In the most recent episode of The Talk Show, John Gruber and MG Siegler agreed that the smartphone will be difficult to overthrow as the dominant method of computing. Something unthinkable would need to happen for us to leave the phones at home in favor of watches, earbuds or pendants, Her-style. So, even if SoC and batteries improve to such extent that we could fit the 2040s equivalent of an M5 chip into a MacBook, iPhone and AirPods equally, and all with great battery life, people would still reach out for their phones first.
This wasn’t the first time I heard the thesis, and it always sounded about right. I don’t know about everyone else, but I tend to be impatient when chatting with Siri. This isn’t about its “lack of” intelligence: although I had only used ChatGPT’s voice chats as a novelty when demoing it to elderly family members, even they needed a few more seconds to answer specific questions than my patience would allow. So why is that?
Well, my impatience would suggest that bandwidth is key, more specifically our own bandwidth to process information. Humans are visual creatures: much of our own brain’s neural pathways are tied up in receiving and processing information from the 6 million cones and 120 million rods contained in the approximately 2,200 square millimeters of our retinas. The next sense down in the number of receptors is not even close: touch, with about 4 million somatosensory receptors packed in the average 1.79 square meters — or 1.79 million square millimeters — of body surface area. That is two orders of magnitude more sensors packed into three orders of magnitude less space in retina (sight) versus skin (touch). What about sound, which is competing with sight as the interface of record? There are around 15,500 hair cells in each cochlea for 31,000 total — not even close. [Note: This is why writing has been the defining achievement of our species, condensing the ineffable into something we can quickly process, and why I will never get tired of reading histories of notebooks and paper. ] But you don’t need to know any of this to have experienced dreams. When was the last time you remembered a particularly nightmarish smell or sound when you were asleep?
So if the optimal way for computers to communicate with us is via retinal inputs, does it not make the most sense to attach most of the local computing machinery onto the interface?
But what about our outputs? Unless you were born on Krypton one wouldn’t expect anything shooting out of your retinas to interact with the environment. Well, here is my main uncertainty in the smartphone-as-the-ultimate-device hypothesis: could you not, on an infinite timescale, wear contact lenses that could beam in information to you as efficiently as possible? Are the Apple Vision Pro and whatever creepiness Meta is out with now not steps towards our corneal computing future? Perhaps, but perhaps not, and the interaction with whatever is beamed into our eyes will be the next limiting factor.
All our movements are planned in the prefrontal cortex and executed in the precentral gyrus of the frontal cortex. A lot of that surface area is dedicated to our hands, as the creepy but to the best of our knowledge accurate cortical motor homunculus shows. [Note: Fun fact about the brain: it’s plastic. In that, it can and does get rearranged as circumstances warrant, and the extent of the rearrangement can be drastic. But receptor numbers are what they are, so any broad changes to the general population would have to take… millennia? Dozens of millennia? Certainly longer than the life span — not to mention attention span — of the average S&P 500 company. ] The side by side representations of the sensory and motor homunculi twins is particularly striking in showing how important our hands are to our sense of self. Now, another prominent feature they have are large tongues and lips, much of it in the service of producing sound, so it is not a surprise that voice controls exist, and not just for the times when our hands are otherwise occupied. Yet what the homunculi show and what any cat parent will attest is that humans are, to the outside world, mostly a pair of hands attached to some rather bizarre squishy elements. Hey, we may as well own it!
The most serious consequence of this state of affairs, much to my disappointment, is that smartphones as we know them are here to stay so there isn’t much point in hobbling my own computing experience with black and white displays, “feature” phones and the like. While I would have loved, in my project to ditch Apple, not to replace my iPhone with anything else “smart”, reason says to try and find a true alternative. GrapheneOS looks promising, and by the time my current phone kicks the can or passes on something else may come along. Here’s hoping.
We have recently bought a book full of photo prints of 19th century Washington DC. The city was founded in 1800 and was a bit of a backwater all the way until the Civil War and massive expansion of the federal government. “There was a time”, notes the introduction, “when cows grazed within sight of the Capitol.”
The farmers are out, but the city is still closer to its rural origins than a visitor — particularly someone from the thoroughly deforested and dewilded Western Europe — could imagine. Theodore Roosevelt Island is about a mile from the White House as the crow flies, and even closer to some other well-known monuments. [Note: The island is the memorial to Teddy Roosevelt in the same vein as the more well known ones — Lincoln, Jefferson — or less directly the Kennedy Center for JFK or what the Epstein File Memorial Archive will be for DJT. But no one goes there to see the somewhat uncanny and Bioshock Infinity-like statue of Teddy; you go there for the nature. So, I would call it a success! ] We went there yesterday for an easy hike and some birdwatching.
Not a scene from 'The Last of Us'.
That white building barely visible from behind the rich leafy branches across the open sewage canal sometimes called the Potomac river is the Donald J. Trump & John F. Kennedy Center for Performing Arts, but could just as easily have passed as a photo from a post-apocalyptic capital city. I took the photo yesterday, and the 3-year-old iPhone camera doesn’t do justice to those greens which brought to mind Annie Dillard’s book Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and the chapter on nature’s fecundity.
The grass is greener on the other side of the Potomac.
No cows on our visit, but one piece of wild fauna did quite literally cross our path.
Don't know if he or she is a Mr. but they do look fantastic.
Never mind the jab against my fellow Europeans up top, even Americans don’t know just how wild their cities can be. On our visit to Smith Island the otherwise wonderful boat tour guide thought we’d look in awe at a blue heron, which is in fact a year-round resident of downtown(ish) DC. You can see red-tailed hawks on top of traffic lights munching on rats, peregrine falcons circling playgrounds, deer walking down the street around Rock Creek Park and, further uptown, a whole bunch of bunny rabbits instead of the daytime/nighttime procession of squirrels and rats as downtown rodent representatives.
Best of all, with temperatures below 18°C — that’s 65°F for Americans — all week long, a magnificent thing happened. There. Were. No. Mosquitos. In the middle of the Potomac marshland. Truly incredible.
Spring 2026 in Washington DC: so far so good.
As promised, today’s update to Microbe — a micro.blog client for Emacs now at version 2.0 — includes draft syncing. There were also some minor updates to Inkling. Both are available on GitHub though I think I’ll just drop that and just host them here. Something to think about for next week…
Well, folks, I did it: I have hit FeedLand’s feed creation limit. Any chance this can be increased, @dave? I’ve just discovered a new blog I’d like to add.
Topic of the essay aside — and it’s a good one — NYT editors didn’t use to let this kind of grammatical malfeasance fly.
The essay is five years old yet I have discovered it just now because the author is also the person behind Denote, a marvelous note-taking tool for Emacs. The tone is not as dry as a scholastic text [Note: For a Substack version of a similar message I encourage you to check out Experimental History. The most recent post, for example, is a case study of one particular aspect of scientism — zombie ideas. ] but not as entertaining as something one would find on Substack. The message is unambiguous, and rather than rehash it let me quote one paragraph out of many:
Science as a career choice rather than a disposition towards learning, and an attitude of living in accordance with the principles than (sic!) enable such learning, contributes to the distancing from philosophy and to the degradation of the moral character of those involved. The practitioner who has not been in the least exposed to the rigours of a virtuous modus vivendi is likely to prioritise superficialities that obscure their own intellectual insecurities, such as social status, a growing collection of titles and certificates that are supposed to support one’s appeal to intellectuality, or the emptiness of being celebrated as a force for so-called “progress” and “rationality” among those who are believed to be unfortunate enough not to be scientists. The latter is one of those non-scientific beliefs amplified by the oligopoly of mass media that helps the philosophically deprived science stake its claim as the tutelary figure of the contemporary world, while blithely disregarding its instrumentalisation as both the apologist and militant activist of the power apparatus that enables it.
The author, who chose to drop his surname and go just by Protesilaos thereby making me break the house rule of using last names only when referring to folks, lives in a hut he built himself [Note: A hut which brought to mind this recent essay from Joan Westenberg about people retreating from their true calling for years in order to recharge. ] in the mountains of Cyprus. Fascinating stuff, all with a large back catalogue I will be perusing in the months to come.
The last few years have been particularly tricky to tread for people who recognize the difference between science and scientism. If the entire board of the National Science Foundation is fired in one day, is it an attack on science or an attempt to curb scientism? [Note: ¿Por qué no los dos? ] When one of the “Abundance” guys — yes, that book is still on the pile — proposes an unbaked not-even-embryonic scheme for reform, is the rebuke from a seasoned scientist legitimate or just circling the wagons? [Note: Vide supra ] So yes, a retreat to the mountains does sound appealing.
Thank you, Hacker News, for promoting — if only briefly — this marvel of an article from Physics World (or is it physicsworld?) about the more scientific aspects of the final and most important step of making coffee. Funnily enough, it focused on the two methods I’ve settled on after a couple of decades of tinkering: espresso and pour-over.
Refreshingly, it is not a “well-actually” article that would use theoretical physics and/or laboratory experiments to prove coffee experts wrong. In fact, much e-ink is spent confirming practices that baristas have settled on, including the coffee-to-water ratio, steeping time, pressure used. There were, however, two things that could make me change how I’m doing things.
For espresso, theory says that using less coffee with a coarser grind would — to me, paradoxically — result in equal extraction and coffee tasting the same despite not using as many beans. With the price of coffee rising, this could be a big deal so I will check it out. Although, to me the benefit of a proper espresso is that it allows you to get a tasty liquid out of sub-par solids, so I would never go with the most expensive beans to begin with (ahem). No, the $2/oz bag is reserved for the queen of brewing, which is the pour-over.
And for the pour-over, there is but a single thing I should change: the height from which I pour, which should apparently be far higher than I’m doing now. A pretty diagram shows the reasons why 20cm is the right height from which the stream of hot — 96°C, thank you very much, so you’d better have a temperature-controlled kettle — water onto a coarsely ground pile of dreams. And there is no safe way to do it from that high up without a gooseneck kettle, so add that to your kettle requirements. Sadly, they don’t go into the quality of the filter and the differences between plain paper, Chemex and metal meshes. I am sure there is much physics involved.
Now before you start commenting that good ol’ Folgers in a hotel room drip machine will do for you, thank you very much, let me suggest a few decidedly unfussy methods of coffee making that are infinitely better than drip coffee out of a plastic tub:
Okay, maybe not that last one.
I tend to avoid podcasts in the style of Joe Rogan, those that begin with a 15-minute long ad block selling mushroom supplements followed by hours of meandering conversation between two people who may or may not be under the influence. Who in the world has the time?
So for that reason I avoided the podcast of one Dwarkesh Patel even as I occasionally linked to an article of his. I filed him mentally in the same “Avoid!” bucket as Lex Fridman — probably unfairly, as no one in the world can be as big of a mental bore as Fridman — without giving his podcast a chance. Although, judging by his writing on AI, I would not have liked the tone even if I had heard it. I remember, in fact, resisting the temptation to pan some of his more outlandish texts prophesying the rise of our LLM overlords with a tone which was as matter-of-fact as it was uncaring about human culture and society. My headphones are a direct link to my brain and I did not want that kind of world view to influence it.
Well a whole bunch of people are about to get influenc’d, because the New York Times has just published a glowing profile of Patel and his podcast, framing the show as a way to “eavesdrop on the A.I. elite” while burying an important fact — the one that kept me from listening in the first place — in the fourth-to-last paragraph:
Mr. Patel doesn’t see himself as a journalist, and he will do things that news organizations’ ethics rules generally prohibit, such as signing onto an amicus brief on behalf of Anthropic in its recent lawsuit against the Department of Defense, and angel-investing in companies whose founders he has interviewed (he disclosed the stakes). He believes in a “glorious transhumanist future,” and his tone isn’t adversarial. But his admirers say that his technical fluency and extensive preparation enable him to follow up or push back on superficial answers that most interviewers would simply accept. The Jensen Huang episode became heated as Mr. Patel repeatedly challenged the world’s most valuable company’s chief executive on the national-security implications of selling chips to China. “If I do cover a topic,” Mr. Patel says. “I think my reputation would suffer a lot if I don’t ask tough questions or don’t do it in a deep way.”
Of course, praising for this kind of pushback on a transhumanist podcast is like praising the host of “The Ultimate Potato Chip Podcast” for pushing back against Frito-Lay’s most recent price hike: it goes without saying that you like junk food.
But it was not this small bit of confirmation bias which made me link to the NYT. Rather, it was the same revelation that piqued Tyler Cowen’s interest, if for a different reason. Rather than paste the whole excerpt, let me provide a (human) summary: bored during the covid pandemic, a 19-year-old Patel asks the libertarian George Mason economist Bryan Caplan to be a guest on his brand-new podcast; Caplan agrees. They continue the exchange, online and in person, while Caplan is spending months in Austin, TX at the home of his billionaire friend Steve Kuhn. [Note: This wasn’t the only good billionaire-themed article in the NYT. For more reasons why Americans should probably do a bit more to clip their wings see the travails of one Sergey Brin and the series of hardships he endured that pushed him to the right. ] Kuhn also meets Patel and, liking the cut of his jib, offers to invest in return for equity. So do other people in the Caplan-Kuhn circle which inevitably expands all the way to your friendly neighborhood founder of Amazon. Cue NYT’s signature glazing.
Crikey. Fans of C.S. Lewis should recognize immediately the themes he raised in The Inner Ring, The Abolition of Man and That Hideous Strength, essays and books which were most likely not on Patel’s reading list during his formative years. One can only wonder whether his belief in “the glorious transhumanist future” came before or after the Silicon Valley billionaires made landfall in his young mind.