#11 Swooping in The Name of Parental Love

On Saturday, Sydney was given a preview of the warmer months to come. The sun delivered its dress rehearsal for summer and the cast of revellers, my family included, took to the outdoors to play our part. Our chosen stage was Bobbin Head, a point on the Cowan Creek in Sydney’s North. We decided on Bobbin Head because it sits at the very edge of our local government area, to which we are confined during Sydney’s COVID-19 lockdowns. 

It was a day of repose as we enjoyed the humble sport of sauntering and people watching. This was a welcomed respite from the routine of weekday life. We spend most of our time performing tasks and fulfilling plans that we often miss the simple joys that have no aim at all other than soothing our weary spirits. 

On this particular day, a pair of Masked Lapwings facilitated our mental rest. The picnic ground of Bobbin Head is wedged between hilled bushlands on one side and the Cowan Creek on the other. Most people stationed themselves under the shades of Norfolk Island Pines that outline the creek. There is a lone gumtree that sits at one end of the grass strip, equidistant from the foot of hills and the water’s edge. When we first arrived, we noticed there were bright orange cones placed roughly around the tree but didn’t pay much mind to their purpose. I did faintly acknowledge a bird nestled among the debris beneath the tree. Sandra remarked that it must be nested there but I quickly disregarded that suggestion as it seemed highly implausible that a bird would choose an area filled with human congestion to raise its young. We decided to encamp in the tree’s shade, some meters from the cone perimeter. 

Once we settled, we noticed there were a pair of the yellow-beaked birds inside the coned boundaries, one nestled and one standing tall, as though standing guard. It was quickly apparent that Sandra’s initial suspicion was correct. These birds were parents, keeping watch over their young. I initially imagined there to be eggs under the mother bird but when she got up to stretch momentarily, we caught a glimpse of two barely feathered chicks seated under her. This was a family of four. 

Despite all the commotion around us, our attention was completely monopolised by this feathered clan. The mother bird was at first near stationary, rising only occasionally to adjust her position. The father patrolled the surroundings, sporadically picked up nourishments off the floor when he could. 

We noticed a man walking in the direction of the ground nest, although clearly just trying to reach his family on the other side of the tree and entirely unaware of the birds. As the man got closer, the mother bird gave off a shriek that alerted the nearby father to return to the nest. He then echoed the shriek, increasing in frequency and volume as the man got closer. It reminded me of parking sensors in my car as I backed closer and closer to the wall. When the man finally noticed the birds, it was too late. The male guardian took flight and swooped the man at shoulder height. The sight of a full-grown man running awkwardly from a small but ferocious bird was both comical and frightening. I saw flashes of Alfred Hitchcock’s 1963 thriller The Birds. Only that these were not menacing crows - but rather Masked Lapwings - whose appearance reminded me of Mr Burns from The Simpsons. 

Over the next few hours, the passage of time was momentarily exorcised from our minds, as we indulged in the theatre of avian parental instincts. The father performed several maneuvers to deter would-be intruders. He charged a waddling of ducks until they steered clear of the No-Go Zone; He nipped the heels of an unsuspecting lady, who let out a scream that caught the attention of the whole park; He shrieked and ran at a group of young children with the reckless abandon of a Kamikaze pilot - putting the human fight or flight response on full display. 

Given our seated proximity to the birds, I also found myself identifying with these birds and feeling responsible and even anxious for their wellbeing. A masked elderly man approached them from the other side of the tree and was attempting to take photos of the birds without realising that he was entering into sacred grounds. This time, the man’s sudden appearance startled the birds and both parents took flight in opposite directions. Sandra reflected that this must have been designed as a final effort to move the attention away from the chicks that were concealed in the aged leaves and branches. Before I knew it, I was shouting instructions at the man, BACK AWAY FROM THE BIRDS AND STAY BEHIND THE CONE. It was only after that I realised the man didn’t speak English and was probably confused by the whole interaction. 

Eventually, the sun’s rays pulled us back into the flow of time and we decided to explore the mangroves along the creek. Even then, we couldn’t help discussing the life of these birds. Sandra pointed out that although this nesting location seems ludicrous at first, given all the human activity around it, it was actually a genius decision because more humans equal fewer predators and the birds seem to handle humans just fine.

The next day, we returned to Bobbin Head again to take advantage of the balmy weather and sure enough, the familiar scenes from the day before were playing out once again. Although this time, I found myself less concerned, as though I was more confident at their ability to defend their home from pesky humans. There was also a sign we didn’t notice from a day earlier, which stated Caution, Masked Lapwings Swooping, Leave the area to avoid such behaviour. At that moment, I felt a glimmer of hope that our own species - Homo Sapiens - might not be so bad after all. 

#10 Becoming a Father

18 months ago, I became a father. I cannot speak for Sandra’s feelings as a mother as I feel any description would not reflect the intense reality or respect I have for her devotion to our son, Noah. Personally, I find it difficult to describe my emotions in an unfettered fashion because they are muddled by how I think I should feel, measured against what I do feel. I have lived most of my life away from my father and although our relationship has grown in recent years, I can recall few moments in my childhood that involved my father or any father figure for that matter. I have always wanted to be a father but when I became one, a sense of unease punctured my awareness. This feeling comes from the realisation that I have absolutely no idea what I am doing and from this moment forward, Noah will look to me as a guide to mould his own sense of self in this world. When Sandra was pregnant, we were often asked about our feelings on becoming parents but I could never really get to the heart of how I felt without resorting to simplifications like excitement. Of course, excitement was certainly one ingredient of my emotional stew but there was also wariness, concern and a sense of dissonance between my feelings compared to the far more visceral experience of being an expectant mother. 

I recently posed this same question to a close friend who is expecting his first child and his answer reminded me of my own experience. He said the feelings hadn’t really kicked in and that he was in a state of perpetual bracing. Even as I held Noah in my hands moments after he left his sanctum, there was a surreal and ephemeral quality to my feelings. Truth is, Noah’s birth did not unlock any new ‘fatherly’ emotions. These emotions did eventually arrive - when I shared his excitement of taking his first steps or when I comforted him after a stumble. It turns out that fatherhood is a process of becoming and not just being. It didn’t feel real to me when Noah was born because I wasn’t yet a father in a meaningful sense. To be a father requires learning, not only of the child but also of myself. It has prompted me to understand my own patterns and how they may affect Noah. I am of the view that my own actions and behaviour will have a far greater impact than my words and instructions on guiding Noah to become the man he will be one day. 

Becoming a better father requires me to becomes a better husband, son, sibling, friend and actively pursue self-knowledge and my own dreams so that my son can permit himself to be all of those things one day. Fatherhood isn’t one thing, it is many things that require persistent learning and adaptation to the needs of our children and their surroundings. My role is to ensure that my son grows up with the tools to confidently navigate his world and thrive in it. 

Of course, there is something else I haven’t mentioned. One day, Noah may also become a father and the father I am to him will greatly influence the father he will be to his children. With that thought, I know if I don’t achieve anything else, I’d like to be remembered as a present father. The last few lines of Harry Chaplin’s cautionary song Cat’s in the Cradle comes to mind

He’d grown up just like me.

My boy was just like me.

I am grateful to my father, however flawed he may be and to all the father figures who inspires me to be a better father, my wife’s father Gerd being amongst them.

To all the fathers who are trying their best.

#9 Our Actions and Their Long Tail

My maternal grandmother and grandfather. Sadly, both are no longer with us.

Lockdown in Sydney continues

I’ve been spending my mornings listening to Scattered Minds, a book by the Hungarian-Canadian Physician, Dr Gabor Maté. Although the book is primarily about the origins, expressions and healing process of Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD), it has sparked some other thoughts in me and I am going to share them briefly here. 

In discussing the cause of ADD and other conditions, the book makes it clear that genetic dispositions play a strong role in determining our behaviour. However, our fixed coding only make it more likely that some of us will replay the same behaviours as our forbearers. Dr Maté makes a salient point that if genetic makeup was the sole determinant of who we become, then identical twins raised under different circumstances should always retain the exact same traits. Research suggests that although there is a strong correlation, it is nowhere near 100%. Personally, I find this to be quite powerful because it means that there is significant room for adaptation and personal agency. The existence of mental plasticity at any stage of our lives allows for the possibility of powerful personal transformation and change. No matter how down and out we might feel, we are still capable of meaningful adaptation. 

Of course, making that change isn’t so straightforward. As the book points out, many of the factors that result in conditions such as anxiety and ADD are multi-generational in nature. Childhood volatility experienced by one of my grandparents has rippling effects down to me and will continue to impact future generations if I don't come to terms with them and do the required work to overcome their effects. The difficulty lies in the fact that so few of us fully comprehend how we are impacted by our genetics and our upbringing. We experience many of our inclinations as innate and they come to us as naturally as breathing does. It is only when our functions and dysfunctions clash with those of others - a spouse, a friend or even a stranger - that we become aware of our predispositions and habits. Once we are made aware of them, it is then a further task of trying to distinguish between the helpful patterns and the destructive ones. One might think this would be easy given we should know ourselves well enough but if we take one look around us, we would see that most of us are excellent at pointing out the loops of others and remain blind to our own disruptive patterns. This process of identification and acknowledgement can be highly distressing and exhausting. If we manage to hone in on the traits that are holding us back from living an autonomous and fulfilling life, we then have to possess the awareness and courage to free ourselves from their dominant influences. This is a colossal task. It isn’t a surprise that so many of us never even begin to acknowledge our patterns. It is simply too hurtful and shameful to do so. Nevertheless, I personally believe that as difficult as the work is, it is a worthwhile pursuit. This herculean undertaking not only brings me closer to my own self-actualisation, but it will also allow my children and future descendants to have a more fulfilling life, unburdened by trauma that occurred generations ago. 

When I put all of this into the context of my own life, it really starts to make a lot of sense. I have always experienced my paternal grandmother as distant and cold. Although I have always wanted to be closer to her, she never seemed emotionally accessible, as though a part of her just wasn’t there. Over the years, I attributed this to generational differences between us but at best, that can only account for part of the story as I didn’t have the same experience with my maternal grandmother. Even when my father recounts his own childhood, he would always say that he was raised by his grandmother and his mother wasn’t really involved.  A few years ago, I learnt that my great grandparents were part of a local militia during the 1930s in China and were both killed and their bodies dumped in the river when my grandmother was only a small child. Even then, I didn’t fully comprehend the gravity of those events and their effects several generations later. Today, I look at my grandmother and even my father in a whole different light. Their inability to express their emotions and connect deeply with their family was the result of unimaginable childhood disturbance, caused by forces far more powerful than themselves. 

When seen in this light, the irrational or agitating actions of others become far easier to understand. Human beings are first and foremost emotional creatures. Without having the fundamental needs met at crucial stages of our lives, important aspects of our being will be underdeveloped going into adulthood. Maté points out that many disruptive traits aren’t fixed deficiencies but aspects of ourselves that weren’t given the proper conditions to develop. As infants, we were all prone to impulsive tendencies, such as irrational anger and easily triggered agitation. For people who continue to exhibit these traits into adulthood, there is a high degree of possibility that their development process was disrupted during childhood. This most often occurs when the bond between the child and their primary caregiver is interrupted or severed entirely. When I use this perspective to examine my own nature, some interesting rise to the surface. Due to economic pressures at the time, I spent a considerable portion of my early childhood away from my parents at boarding school. Between the age of 2 to 9, I only saw my parents on weekends and during holiday breaks. We moved so frequently during that period that I cannot recall the exact number of homes I had. Although these experiences gave me a colourful childhood, they resulted in significant turbulence and upheaval in my early years. Thinking back, this explains why I was so terrified to be alone even going into my late teens. It explains why I am unable to relax and sit still for long - a fact I was made aware of by my wife. The point here isn’t to blame my parents or my grandparents but to highlight the fact that the experiences of one generation can have lasting effects on the lives of their descendants, in ways that are concealed from them. 

Some might look at that and think this perspective is an easy way to escape personal agency - Nothing that happens to me is really my fault so I shouldn’t be held accountable - far from it. This perspective allows me to see that the better response to destructive parts of ourselves or anyone else isn’t blame, it is understanding. If we can begin with the acknowledgement that our flaws are often the product of circumstance and not simply due to genetic miswiring, we can then start the work to adjust those circumstances for ourselves and our children. 

Even in the last few days, I have come to see so many of my own patterns in this way. Of course, they cannot all be explained by childhood instability, it is never that neat or simple, but it does get me closer to greater self-understanding. Since the birth of my son Noah, I have often found myself thinking about my own actions and how they impact others around me. His birth gave me another reason to better understand myself. As Maté puts it, a great proportion of our impact on other people is invisible because we are simply acting out our unexamined proclivity. When those actions are perceived by others, they do not have access to our first-person intention or rationale, however benevolent they may be. They are privy only to the consequences of our actions and this is especially true for our children. My intention is to reveal my own invisible patterns so that I can allow those underdeveloped parts of myself a second chance to thrive. By doing so, I am hopeful that my own actions will have sown the seed for my children to find fulfilment and well-being. 

#8 Plato’s Cave and What It Means For Our Reality.

It is late. Amidst the fatigue, a familiar delirium takes hold of me. These small hours have the effect of shrouding my reality in mystery, giving it an other-worldly quality. The darkness makes the routine of tomorrow seem distant and the quiet amplifies the imagination of what could be. Tonight, for reasons unknown, my mind drifts to Plato’s Cave.

The Cave

In your mind, conjure up a cave. 

Inside this cave, there are three captives facing the cave wall. 

They have been there for as long as they remember. This cave and its stone wall are all that they know. 

All three are bound in a way that prevents them from ever turning around to glimpse the true world outside the cave. 

Unknown to these prisoners, there is a fire that burns brightly some distance behind them.

Between this fire and the incarcerated, there is a raised walkway, upon which people from outside use to bypass this strange place. 

The fire casts shadows of our passersby and their chattel onto the stonewall, which our prisoners are able to perceive. 

However, from their vantage point, they do not consider these projections shadows. They don’t think of them as derivatives of a ‘real thing’ because they have never observed the original. To them, these shadows are in every meaningful way, authentic reality.

Our prisoners take turns guessing what objects would appear next on the stonewall and they would congratulate each other for having guessed the right answer and the victor would receive the mantle of master of nature.

Sometime later, one of these inmates escapes his bondage. What he discovers outside the cave truly shocks him and he shutters at the thought that he once considered himself wise. 

He returns to the cave to find his former companions still observing the stonewall and playing the same guessing game. He excitedly reports his findings outside the cave but the others weren’t interested. They go as far as threatening him if he dares to set them free of their subjugation. 

For Plato, we are those prisoners, only able to perceive phenomena through our feeble senses. We consider what we observe to be real but in truth, they are only interpretations of phenomena, first received by our senses and then interpreted by our brains. It is this second-hand nature of our reality that particularly troubles and intrigues me. Essentially, everything we see, hear, smell, taste and touch are only subjective manifestations of the original. The true nature of our existence will always remain a closed book to us. 

Plato believed that the only escape, the only viable path to piercing our subjectivity and acquiring a glimpse of the original reality is through philosophical reasoning rather than empirical observations. He is essentially arguing that because our senses are so limited, everything we record and observe with them will only be a shadow of a higher reality. 

I find it difficult to fault this line of argument, although I am not sure if our capacity to reason can free us of this condition. However, it certainly has served us well thus far. 

John Locke, the Englishman renowned more for his political philosophy, also has some interesting follow up thoughts of his own. 

Locke argues that although we perceive tomatoes to be red, this is not the property of the tomato itself, but rather the result of the human eye’s particular perception of light waves. To a dog, a bee or someone with colourblindness, the tomato would not possess this same quality. Red is not an essence of the tomato but rather a consequence of the interaction between an observer and the subject. 

This line of reasoning can be extrapolated to all of our other senses too. Whatever we see, hear, smell, taste and touch, what we observe are not inherent qualities of the things we are perceiving. 

To theorise further, there is an idea that I have always gravitated towards intuitively. I have even found it to be romantic. It is the idea that the universe requires an observer to take form and exist. Without a human, an eagle, an ant or an earthworm, our universe would be formless. Something cannot be said to exist in any meaningful way until the moment it interacts with an observer. 

In these private hours of tonight, I ponder whether our purpose here is to give shape to the universe. The sky cannot be blue without us looking and the thunder cannot be loud without us listening. The universe without an observer is a murky soup, uncertain of its contents. Similar to humans, it is perhaps a social creature, deriving its identity and form from others. It is vast because human eyes have looked at it. It is majestic because human emotions have felt it. 

When I ponder about the contingent nature of our observed reality, the part that troubles me is the imperceivable nature of what lies beneath. I, a feeble and mortal human will never know its true form. At the same time, I am awestruck by it for the same reasons why I am attracted to these hours of the night - the cloaked nature of reality leaves room for boundless possibilities. Although the universe will keep its secrets from me, I am free to muse. 

#7 Explained: Apple’s New Child Safety Features

Hello friends,

I’ve been seeing a few outraged Social Media posts about a particular piece of news (not COVID-19 related) that I found interesting so I did a little deep dive into it. The clickbait tagline for it is Apple spies on you and snitches to authorities. The reality is a little more nuanced. 

What is Apple doing?

As part of their iOS 15 update, Apple is rolling out three new features aimed at Child Safety. They released a bundle of information that you can find here. If you can’t be bothered, you’ve come to the right place because I’ve read it for you. They are described below in the order from least to most controversial. It is important to point out that the features will initially be U.S. only and presumably be rolled out to other countries on a case by case basis. 

New Siri and Search prompts

This part is fairly straightforward. Essentially, if someone asks their Apple device how they can report child exploitation, then Siri and Search will direct them to more specific resources. If Siri or Search detects someone actively looking for child exploitation material, then they will be presented with prompts and warnings to rethink their decision. 

Communication safety in Messages

Then Apple steps it up a notch by introducing a function that detects sexually explicit photos when sent through the native Messages app. This feature is only active on child accounts (under 18) in Family Sharing (part of iCloud). It is also important to note that the detection of sexually explicit photos occurs on-device, part of the reason why this update has raised some criticism. 

Teenagers (12 to 17)

When a teenager receives content their device considers sexually explicit (i.e. nudity), the device will blur out that content and provide the receiver with a warning. According to Apple, the warning will tell the receiver the nature of the content and let them know that it is ok not to view it if they don’t want to and direct them to some helpful resources. If the receiver then chooses to proceed, the content will then be revealed. The sender of such content will also be warned prior to sending. 

Children 12 and under

For this age group, there is an additional function of parental notifications. The receiver of the content will be warned that if they choose to view the content, their parents will receive a notification. Apple makes a point to state that notification received by parents will not include any details of the content itself. This additional element functions similarly for senders of this age group. If they choose to send, then the parents will receive a notification that content of such nature has been sent. 

Some people have taken issue with the fact that the actual detection of the photos is done on-device. Apple achieves this through machine learning algorithms. It is clear that Apple is very aware of this objection. They create an entire FAQ, most of which is dedicated to reassuring people’s expected privacy concerns. The gist is that Apple claims it does not have access to the images, evaluations, notifications or interventions. One of the FAQ questions is whether this feature will prevent children in abusive homes from seeking help. I personally found this interesting as I wouldn't have imagined kids needing to send nude photos for that purpose but I guess it may need to be done as a proof-of-evidence process to peers or would-be-helpers on certain occasions. Another angle I didn’t personally think of was mentioned by Kendra Albert, a lawyer at Harvard Law School’s Cyberlaw Clinic. He tweets on August 6,

 “these "child protection" features are going to get queer kids kicked out of their homes, beaten, or worse”

“I just know (calling it now) that these machine learning algorithms are going to flag transition photos. Good luck texting your friends a picture of you if you have "female presenting nipples.”

Personally, I think Apple has done their homework and probably came to the conclusion that the pros of this feature outweigh the cons. I do agree that there will be some unforeseeable consequences that will negatively impact the kids involved in ways that Apple has not considered. More importantly, I personally feel this will simply encourage users to migrate to an alternative messaging platform. 

Child Sexual Abuse Material (CSAM) Detection

This is by far the most contentious component of the features. The way it functions is also highly technical. So technical that Apple includes several detailed summaries to explain the various technologies involved. The three technologies involved are NeuralHash, Private Set Intersection and Threshold Secret Sharing.  Before I attempt to break down these technologies, the grossly oversimplified version is: 

Apple will create a digital thumbprint for all photo and video content users choose to sync with iCloud. Those thumbprints will be matched against a list of existing thumbprints, generated from a database of known CSAM material from the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children (NCMEC). This matching process is done on-device. Once a certain number of matches is met, the matching content is then revealed and forwarded for manual review by Apple. If the report is validated by the human reviewer, the user’s account will be disabled and the report will be forwarded to NCMEC and their law enforcement partners. 

Apple goes to great lengths to state that they will learn absolutely nothing about the user’s content or other meaningful data generated from this process until that threshold of matches is crossed and a report is sent to them for manual review. They further reaffirm that the only matches this feature applies to are with known material from the NCMEC and nothing else. I have read all of their technical summaries and below is my best attempt at explaining the technologies in ways that I can understand myself. 

NeuralHash

The actual process through which hashes are generated is actually quite complex so I will not attempt to explain it. Essentially, images are given a digital thumbprint, known as a hash and that hash is then put through a compression process so the final thumbprint is small enough for storage and transmission purposes. 

Similar images are given the same hash, even if they differ by scale, colour, size or other superficial changes while images deemed different are given separate hashes. Apple gives the example below. 

The NCMEC maintains a database of known CSAM material. Each piece of material is given a unique hash. This set of hashes from the NCMEC goes through a ‘blinding’ process and is stored on user devices. This process ensures that no one can infer anything about the underlying CSAM content from looking at the hash database. 

Private Set Intersection (PSI)

The Apple device will scan all content synced with iCloud and assign a hash to all of that material. It will then match those hashes with the NCMEC hash database securely stored on those devices. If a match is found on-device, it will generate what Apple calls a Safety Voucher and uploaded to the iCloud server. This next part is where it becomes exceptionally technical. What I surmised is that PSI is broken down into two steps. First step is on-device and the second step is server side. The reason why Apple has created this further step is actually to strengthen security and privacy. At the first step, even if someone can decrypt and extract the hash matches on-device, those matching results are only arbitrary numbers. It will just look like a random set of 1s and 0s. The second step is done on the server side. The matching safety vouchers are combined with the server side blinding secret to decrypt and reveal the content. The way I understand this as a total layman is that the NCMEC hash database stored on Apple devices are pre-scrambled by Apple so no one can infer anything about the original content from those matching hashes. Once the matching hashes are uploaded onto iCloud, Apple is able to decrypt them and unscramble them because only the server side knows how they were scrambled in the first place. Without additional steps or technologies, it would mean that Apple would be able to decrypt and view the contents each time there was a match but they actually combine it with something called Threshold Secret Sharing to further improve privacy. 

Threshold Secret Sharing (TSS)

Essentially, instead of being able to decrypt the Safety Voucher each time there was a match, Apple adds TSS to ensure that it takes a certain number of matches before Apple is able to decrypt and view the image itself. Supposedly the addition of this step means that the chances of an incorrect flagging will be 1 in a trillion. Apple explains it using the following Example

 if a secret is split into one-thousand shares, and the threshold is ten, the secret can be reconstructed from any eleven of the one-thousand shares. However, if only ten shares are available, then nothing is revealed about the secret.

Before that threshold is reached, the server only learns the number of matches for a particular user. What is fascinating is that Apple introduces a further step here to obfuscate that number. They do this by having the devices send out a random number of dummy vouchers to look like encrypted CSAM data. Apple servers initially only learns the combined number of matches, fake and real. Only if the threshold is reached will the server become able to identify the actual matches. 

Once Apple’s threshold is hit, Apple will be able to decrypt and view the images and that information is forwarded to a manual reviewer. If that manual reviewer validates CSAM material, then the user’s account will be disabled and their information sent to the NCMEC and presumably law enforcement. Apple does state that there is the ability for users to request an appeal process if they feel their account was wrongly disabled. 

Is Apple Aware of Privacy Concerns?

Most definitely. It is pretty obvious reading Apple’s materials and looking at the design of these features that Apple anticipated criticism. They devote a significant amount of energy to reassure users that no meaningful data can be extracted about the user either on-device or server side until the threshold is met and the results revealed to Apple. They include several analyses from industry experts as testimonials for the strength of the system. So what are people really worried about? 

What Are The Critics Saying?

I reviewed a bunch of different criticisms. There is an open letter that outlines the main public and industry issues with these new features. Overall, the criticisms can be summarised in the following categories. 

1. Apple is spying on us through a ‘backdoor’ and telling our secrets to the government.
   I don’t personally think this criticism holds any water for what the features currently do. You can certainly infer a lot of things and get very mad if you were simply reading headlines but in its current form, I think a lot of people are just misunderstanding how these features function. 

2. These features will have unintended consequences and victims.
   It’s pretty hard to debate this one. I’ve already touched on this above. I am certain that there will be issues with these features that will hurt kids, families and relationships in ways that Apple hasn’t anticipated. 

3. These features may not be a problem now but they open a door we cannot close.
   I think this is by far the strongest argument. Apple reiterates several times through their materials that the CSAM detection is only matching known materials from the NCMEC. They also explicitly state that they will never give in to government demands to change the matching targets for other purposes. I personally don’t doubt this pledge from Apple as it stands today but people and organisations are prone to change and there is little guarantee that the target won’t be moved in the future. The on-device scanning component of these new features are controversial because there is no real ‘opting out’. Once these features get rolled out into other countries, you simply cannot rule out other types of materials becoming targets for matching. Even if this only remains in the US, the possibility of scope creep is ever present and Apple cannot assure that the target will always be CSAM material. 

4. Bad actors using this feature to frame innocent people
   I found this criticism while looking at some random threads. I am not versed enough in the technical aspects to understand whether this criticism is possible or not but I’ll leave it here in full so you can make your own decision.

An attacker can easily produce natural images that have a specified perceptual Hash. An attacker can generate a meme image which looks normal but has a hash which is inside the CSAM database. (he can easily get one of these bad hash values by computing the neural hash of a known offensive image) Then he send you a mail, then you save the image to your cloud because you find it funny (or because your phone automatically back-up your mail to your cloud) , and a collision is registered and you get arrested (when the manual review fails, for example if the attacker has steganographically hidden offensive content in those images).

Personally, I find the scope-creep argument the most convincing. Technology is akin to Pandora’s box. Once you put it out there into the world, no amount of good intention will prevent it from being used in ways you did not first intend. It is just the nature of things and I think Apple took a step that it won’t be able to walk back on. 

What Are The Other Tech Giants Doing?

I think one of Apple’s most convincing counter arguments is that there are already other significantly less privacy conscious methods being used to scan photos on other non-Apple devices. Another method to yield the same result would be to scan the images on a cloud server in the clear without any process to encrypt or obscure user data. If you look at the data published by NCMEC for the year 2020 on the number of reports submitted by other tech and social platforms, Apple has barely made the list.

Facebook: 20,307,216

Google: 546,704

Snapchat: 144,095

Microsoft: 96,776 

TikTok: 65,062

Dropbox: 20,928

Apple: 265

I would imagine such low numbers are a reflection of Apple’s long held value of maintaining user privacy over other goals, some of them perfectly legitimate such as curbing child exploitation. If the only goal is privacy, then Apple’s new Child Safety features are moving away from that but I would argue this new development essentially puts Apple on par with the practices of most of their industry peers, perhaps with greater privacy considerations. Personally, I don’t believe these functions as they stand pose any real threat to user privacy. However, I do share certain concerns such as scope creep. The capability is there now and there will always be the temptation in the future to use it in ways that won’t align with their purpose today. 

Other interesting things I learnt

• Facebook’s numbers from the NCMEC are extremely high. However, it turns out that over 90% of those reports refer to the same or previously reported content. Facebook also reports that copies of six videos are responsible for over 50% of these reports. Even one report is too many but this gives me some comfort that it isn’t 20 million unique cases of child exploitation. 

• Those numbers reported above also include subsidiaries such as WhatsApp and Instagram under Facebook. 

• WhatsApp uses an entirely different way to detect CSAM material. As the platform boasts end-to-end encryption, they do not do any type of scanning of content shared between users. However, there are certain data that is considered unencrypted such as group names or profile photos. With the assistance of artificial intelligence algorithms, WhatsApp files reports (combined with Facebook’s numbers) to NCMEC based on these types of unencrypted data.

I hope you found this week’s content interesting. If you made it this far, I presume you didn’t hate it. I hope to be putting out more research based pieces in the future.

#6 What Divides Us

America Disunited

I had a brief discussion with an American friend  over one of her Instagram posts this week. She was venting her frustration at the inconsistent implementation and messaging of the government’s COVID-19 vaccine program. One of her main gripes was how difficult it was to have a genuine discussion around this topic without being dragged into a political loyalty test. By now, America’s rift has been laid bare to the world. This division in the United States was palpable during my visit in 2019. Our road trip took us across states with contrasting histories, culture and political views: California, Nevada, Arizona, Utah, New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana and New York City. During our brief interactions with Americans across the country, it was clear that their approximations of fellow citizens who held different values were distorted and caricatured. People who lived in the liberal cities essentially equated the South with ignorance and racism while our conversations with people from the south revealed that they considered their coastal countrymen fragile, naive and detached from reality. Americans didn’t see each other clearly and they couldn’t be convinced otherwise. Although Trump’s presidency and the pandemic exacerbated the chasm, this state of partisanship existed long before either came along. Even as a schoolboy in the early 2000’s, I remember watching American talk shows and many of the segments featured ‘conservatives’ being asked simple questions and failing to do so at the amusement of the TV audience. At that age, I digested these shows as statements of fact and concluded that conservatives were ignorant and hateful. It was not until I got a chance to visit many cities and towns in conservative states that I comprehended the ridiculousness of my earlier views. This has got me thinking about the cause of these divisions and what we can do about it. 

Us and Them

We humans have a predictable tendency to create in and outgroups - An Us and a Them.  One hypothesis is that the threat of an outgroup fosters ingroup cohesion and cooperation. By creating a common external enemy, this allows members of the ingroup to overlook their own differences and work together to achieve certain goals. What is more fascinating, although not surprising, is that this trait may not be limited to human beings. This study out of Kyoto University published in February found similar behaviours in chimpanzees. Two groups of chimps were exposed to sound recordings of unfamiliar wild chimps. It was found that after the test chimps heard the threatening hoots from apparent external competition, they demonstrated higher levels of ingroup cohesion and cooperation. The authors write

In sum, we found across several measures, both in the presence and absence of feeding competition, that perceived outgroup threat directly enhances ingroup cohesion and tolerance in captive chimpanzees. This demonstrates that humans’ greater group cohesion in competitive contexts is shared with chimpanzees, and suggests that intergroup competition in human evolution may have selected for our ability to maintain cooperation and tolerant relations in large groups in the presence of a common enemy.

Our View of Others

So perhaps our genetics are partially to blame for our ceaseless prejudice against people we consider outsiders. We don’t see each other clearly because some deeply ingrained parts of us don’t want to. An inevitable consequence of creating an Us and Them is the loss of nuance. Our views get reduced down to false dichotomies: Good & Evil, Right & Wrong, Truth & Lies. It is easy and perhaps justifiable to blame this on the media or intentional propaganda. My personal take is that these binary fallacies emerge due to a combination of ignorance, convenience and genetic predisposition. Sometimes we believe certain things about another group of people purely out of ignorance. During the Chinese Boxer Rebellion of 1899 - 1901, one of the early tactics used by the Chinese Rebels was to carry long poles with hooks at the end to trip their Caucasian adversaries. It was believed that white people were incapable of bending their knees and once tripped, they would be stuck on the ground like a turtle on its back. We have of course come a long way since those days and our world is far more connected than ever before but modern day examples of cross-cultural misconceptions are still plentiful. It just isn’t possible for everyone to have accurate information or first hand exposure to every other group of people on earth. We primarily live in our own bubbles and rely on various types of secondhand recounts, which are riddled with inaccuracies or agendas that have nothing to do with fairness or fidelity. 

I believe we also create false impressions of other people because it is just easier than dealing with infinite layers of grey. Holding superficial absolute beliefs is far less taxing than trying to consider the gradation of everything, even if they have material consequences. The task of seeing other groups of people without obscurity becomes even more difficult when you consider the fact that our genetics most likely reward us for demonising members of outgroups. Doing so helps us forge greater ingroup bonds and incentivises us to contribute to a collective goal. In other words, We are stronger when there is a They. 

Along Real or Imagined Lines

We often see categories such as race, gender, culture or class as the foundations of our prejudice. The logic seems to be that if we can eliminate racism, sexism, various -phobic beliefs, then we can eliminate discrimination altogether. I do not share this view and think that we will simply create new arbitrary categories of division. This was demonstrated in Jane Elliott’s 1968 blue/brown eyed experiment. Aggrieved by the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr, Ms. Eliott, a school teacher, decided to teach her third grade students a valuable lesson. She did this by dividing them into two groups based on an arbitrary trait - eye colour. She assigned the blue eyed students with certain characteristics that were considered superior and the browned eyed students with other traits that were considered inferior. Her students quickly aligned themselves into these groups and adjusted their behaviour to make them consistent with their new identities. The roles were then reversed to help the students comprehend the impact of discrimination. In this instance, prejudice was borne out of a trait chosen offhand. I can think of countless other examples of in and outgroups that have nothing to do with the dominant forms of prejudice. Shanghainese people in China are well known for being prideful of their “Shanghainese-ness”. Among old residents of Shanghai, there is a clear distinction between 上海人 Shànghǎi rén（Shanghainese) and 外地人 Wàidì rén（Outsiders). By outsiders, they are not referring to foreigners or even people from other major Chinese cities. Outsiders are an exclusive term reserved for people from smaller cities or towns that surround Shanghai. Common stereotypes of these Outsiders will sound familiar to many of you. They are supposed to be sneaky, untrustworthy, uncivilised and here to take jobs from the Shanghainese. At the beginning of the COVID-19 outbreak, there was a story circulating Chinese social media that illustrates this arbitrary prejudice perfectly. 

An elderly man walked into a shop and was asked to put his mask on. He angrily replied that he was Shanghainese. When questioned by the attendant what his Shanghainese-ness had to do with putting on a mask, he replied that he was a pure Shanghainese and dirty things such as this virus could never touch him because of his pedigree. He added that this virus would only affect Outsiders. There is no way of verifying this story but it does capture the essence of this particular brand of prejudice. In short, humans will divide and discriminate along any real or imagined line.

It’s Complicated

Personally, I don’t believe that we can eliminate prejudice entirely, not without altering the very core of our being. The reason is that in order to discriminate against a Them, we must have an Us and having that identity is quite often a positive and celebrated force in our society. Without an individual and group identity, it would make it impossible for us to navigate our world. However, it is also a double-edged sword. Consider any kind of prejudice, it always starts with a group of people holding a certain identity that they later compare to other identities and conclude that theirs is superior. An identity can be formed around any belief, behaviour, physical characteristic or shared experience. Although they may start as individual explorations, people who share similar identities inevitably gravitate toward each other. We are told to be proud of our identities - that may be our race, gender, sexual orientation or political beliefs. However, in order to be proud, we have to see our identities as unique and special. No matter what country we are from, we often attribute characteristics such as courage, camaraderie, perseverance and work ethic to our country alone. We may say “we will get through this tough time because we are Australians (or Americans, Chinese etc). Doing so has a clear benefit for the cohesion and cooperation of whatever that identity is. By reiterating the ingroup origin story and shared values, it serves to create stronger bonds among members of that group. 

However, the positive effects of identity and ingroup formation simultaneously creates the risk of intergroup division because by defining an ally, you automatically create an adversary. This isn’t so much of a problem when the external environment is one of abundance in terms of resources and opportunities. However, if the environment is one defined by competition and scarcity, group identities will inevitably clash. It is at this point that all the nuance becomes lost and we start mythologising and demonising. Human tribal instincts take over and we quickly fall into opposing teams, even if the values of those teams don’t match seamlessly with our individual beliefs. When the environment is uncertain, we start herding, looking for protection and identity with our ingroup. We do this by signaling our own loyalty through language, behaviour and outward signs of group membership such as clothing. We start believing and articulating that our identity and ingroup is better than another. We may even modify our behaviour and use any means necessary to prove that superiority. These mechanisms of human behaviour is observable in every type of society throughout our history.

What Now?

I don’t know what the antidote to these challenges is. I don’t know if there is a cure-all action we can take. So many of these concepts and human behaviours are not simplistic polarities. You cannot eliminate the negative without diminishing the positive. Facile concepts of good and bad are often tricks of language and context. With that said, my personal strategy is to constantly remind myself that there are good people and assholes wherever you go and although I should be proud of my own choices in this life, I have to check myself before I start drinking my own Kool Aid. It is a delicate balance that requires a lifetime to sustain. Above all, we must keep in sight that different forms of discrimination may be genetic in nature but so too is our desire and ability to overcome them. 

#5 Luckiest Dog In The World

We’ve had dogs in my family ever since I was a tiny person. The first-ever dog we ever had was a Shanghainese street dog that found its way to our home through the rooftop of our lane house. Today, Sandra and I have two dogs (Frank and Fofo) and a cat (Jon Snow). Although being in an apartment with three animals and Noah can be pure mayhem at times, there are always moments that remind us just how important these non-people members of our family have become. 

One morning this week during breakfast, Fofo was curled up next to us, enjoying one of his many naps during the day. He is an English Cocker Spaniel and will be turning 18 next year. As I watched him lying there, I thought back to all the moments in his life and realised that he is essentially a living museum of some of my own cherished memories. With sadness, we realise he won’t be with us much longer as he battles returning cancerous growths, total deafness, deteriorating eyesight, arthritis and the general scourge of old age. This week, I wanted to chronicle Fofo’s life and how he has impacted mine. 

福 /fú/ - Blessing, Good Fortune

Fofo’s name is an anglicised version of the Shanghainese pronunciation of Fufu 福福- a repeat of a character in chinese that means blessing. This repetition of characters is a common way names are given to pets in China. My uncle had a pair of toy poodles named Lele 乐乐 and Lala 拉拉. Lele translates to joy, joy while Lala translates to pull, pull. Lala’s name wasn’t chosen because of any pulling prowess she possessed, my uncle just liked the rhythmic sound of Lele and Lala. This method of bellowing titles also extends to nicknames for people. We occasionally call our son Noah Nuonuo. It means absolutely nothing but when spoken in Chinese, it just sounds cuter. 

According to my uncle - Fofo’s original owner - he bought puppy Fofo at a Shanghainese market circa 2004. We went through this whole process of trying to figure out Fofo’s exact birthday but Sandra ended up designating 8/8 because the number 8 is considered auspicious and 88 is off the charts lucky due to its resemblance to 囍, a decorative character meaning double happiness. This collective superstition surrounding the number 8 is so powerful that the Australian Department of Home Affairs renumbered some of their business visa classes to include more 8s so that they are appealing to Chinese applicants. My own phone number has four 8s in it because the salesperson from where I purchased my number took one look at me and said “You Chinese? I have the perfect number for you.” It was most certainly a case of racial profiling but you know what, I’m not giving my number up anytime soon. So you could say Fofo is the luckiest dog in the world with his name connoting happiness, wealth, blessing and all of those times two. 

Origin Story

In his early years, Fofo spent most of his time in the warehouses where my uncle plied his trade as a furniture manufacturer. Although Fofo was content enough rummaging around the place, my uncle felt guilty that he didn’t spend that much time with him. So when a neighbouring business owner asked if he could take Fofo off my uncle’s hands, my uncle said yes, thinking Fofo would be better off with someone else. That arrangement only lasted for a few months after my uncle saw Fofo alone in a small cage most days in front of his neighbour’s place. Soon our blessed canine was back on the factory grounds, nose to concrete, doing what he loves best. It’s common nowadays to see all types of purebreds in Chinese cities but back then, an English Cocker would have been a rare sight, especially in the Shanghainese countryside. 

A few years go by and my uncle decided that it was best for Fofo to live with my wai po 外婆 (maternal grandmother). It was a mutually beneficial covenant where my wai po supplied the food and he supplied the companionship. This was also around the time my family and I got to know this tenacious pup. We would customarily visit Shanghai once a year during Chinese New Year and each time we went to see my wai po, Fofo would be there. Cocker Spaniels have been bred over a few centuries to be very receptive to human commands, especially directional ones. The novelty of making Fofo run to wherever we pointed entertained us for hours. We could always tell he enjoyed it too because of the subtle wagging of his docked tail. It was also during this time that Fofo became a father when he mated with one of my uncle’s dogs. I like to imagine Fofo’s offspring running around out there in the world and feel a peculiar sense of pride that he has successfully fulfilled his duties by passing on his genes. So many of these memories are intrinsically tied with family reunions, my early twenties and my wai po when she was around. 

外婆/wàipó/ - Maternal Grandmother

My wai po was a generous and kind woman. Each time I think of her, I am immediately filled with warmth. Like many people of her generation in China, she lived through hardships that were senseless and undeserved. As a baby, she was given away by her parents because they couldn’t look after her but was later retrieved by her mother after she caught wind of the mistreatment she suffered at the hands of her foster parents. During the Japanese invasion in the second world war, she was sent down a river, only to be rescued by a Japanese man. After losing my grandfather to throat cancer, she raised her four children on her own, my mother being the youngest. Even after all of that she had room in her heart to love and be loved by all who knew her. Some of my fondest childhood memories are with her - telling me stories and cooking her legendary meals. In the last few years of her life, she lost her speech, her movement and eventually her spirit to the affliction of parkinson’s. Although she passed away in 2019, the last time she called my name was in 2017. That was also the time I made a conscious effort to close my eyes so that I could etch the sensation of my fingers running through her hair and holding her hands deep into my consciousness. Today, when I see Fofo, I am reminded of my grandmother because so many memories live through him. When he’s gone, those memories will become a little more distant and that is a day I don’t look forward to. When bad things happen to good people, it will never make sense from our limited perspective but I like to think that she succeeded in making the world a better place, at least for the people she loved. 

New Chapters

When I moved to Shanghai in 2014, Fofo had been living with my dad for a few years because of my grandmother’s ailing health. I always felt a little bad for him since I knew that as much as my dad enjoyed spending time with him, those times were limited and he spent most days wandering the yard on his own. He soon developed a habit of taking himself out for walks whenever someone left the gate open. I was horrified to hear from dad that he was hit by a car on two occasions during these self-guided walks. Apparently, he picked himself back up and just kept moving like it was nothing. When I moved out to my own place in Shanghai, I decided that Fofo should come live with me and his new best pal Frank the French Bulldog. Despite the age gap between the two, they soon became inseparable. Back then, Fofo had three great loves. One was rummaging through the rubbish any time he saw an opening. Another was jumping onto the couch so that he could snuggle up next to me while I watched tv and his favourite pastime was to terrorise the cleaners with his imposing bark. I don’t know his criteria but he always chose the people he liked and didn’t like. 

In 2017, our clan grew bigger. Sandra moved in with her cat John Snow and the animal members of our family outnumbered the people. It was around this time that I learnt something new about Fofo. Our neighbour had this enormous Saint Bernard that lived in a unit above us. This dog was goofy and clearly didn’t know his own size. For whatever reason, any time Fofo saw this dog or even got a whiff of his scent in the elevator, he would transform into a berserker, aggressively barking, foaming at the mouth and could only be calmed after great effort. The science on the cause of this sudden on-set aggression or ‘rage syndrome’ isn’t settled but it is believed to be genetic amongst Cocker Spaniels. Having witnessed it first hand on a few occasions, it is clear Fofo has absolutely no control over it. This always makes me wonder how many people have certain behavioural triggers that are beyond their control. 

By 2018, Fofo’s condition had deteriorated considerably. It started with a few failed attempts at jumping on the couch but he would soon develop complete deafness and require surgery for a number of ailments. Despite all of that, when Sandra and I relocated to Germany for 10 months in 2019, Fofo went with us and added another chapter to his storied life. He accompanied my father-in-law Gerhard on many walks through their town and surrounding forests. If the start of Fofo’s life was tumultuous, this period was him enjoying his retirement. Due to his age, we were concerned that he wouldn’t make it back to Sydney and had mentally prepared ourselves to say goodbye to him in Germany. If that had happened, I would have been comforted by the fact that he was with my in-laws, who love him dearly.

Living Memory

Nevertheless, two years on and the veteran is still kicking. It’s a little surreal to see him in Sydney considering we were concerned he wouldn’t make it out of Shanghai. Nowadays, it takes him a long while to get going in the morning. His eyesight is starting to go and his bladder control is fading quickly. We were informed recently that cancer he beat last year has already come back and we should be prepared to say goodbye to our elder statesmen in the coming year. When I first heard the news, I was crushed. Fofo has been around for so much of my life that it was easy to pretend he would just go on forever. Observing him sets off so many memories of the past 17 years that it feels like some of those memories live within him. 

Each morning as I take Fofo for a walk, I always wonder whether that might be his sunrise on earth. I guess much like people, dogs never really know when it’s their time to go. However, unlike people, they live out every moment of their lives doing exactly what they want. For Fofo, that means devouring his food and waiting for us to slip up so he can explore the rubbish bin. Each day, my heart is filled knowing that my son Noah got to know Fofo. This old robust dog is now the common thread that binds four generations of my family. When he is gone, things will be different and he will be missed. 

#4 Conversations With Strangers

Sydney has been in lockdown for the past few weeks so my mind has been taking its own journeys, traversing the lands of my travel memories. It occurred to me that despite my fondness for enjoying the natural beauty in relative solitude, the memories that are etched most deeply into my consciousness are the ones involving encounters with strangers. So this week I will share just a few of them. 

Dark Paris

One of the first major trips I ever took without my parents was at the end of 2006, the year I graduated high school. My dear friend Daniel and I decided that a two-month trip across Europe was a fitting conclusion of our school years and a hopeful initiation to life as newly minted adults. Whenever I think back to the trip, it has retained a certain charm that was only possible before the days of digital omnipotence. We were armed with one lonely planet guidebook and my patchy memories of a trip with my parents a few years earlier. Despite our general ignorance, the trip was immeasurably rewarding. It opened my eyes to the menagerie of cultures that occupied that part of the world, with all its wonders and flaws. 

We ate at restaurants that would certainly be considered tourist traps today and yet, we loved it all, every overpriced euro’s worth. We devoured as many ancient relics, football stadiums and random Chinese eateries as we could (because our body’s reserves of rice were depleted). In short, it was one of those trips that we still reminisce about over 15 years later. 

There was one encounter that didn't belong with the wholesome fun. Whenever I recall it, I have to pause and consider whether it actually happened because it was so jarring. 

Dan and I were standing at a Parisian train station, waiting for a connection and I noticed a man staring at us, cracking half a smile. It wasn’t one of those smiles that invited you to reciprocate but it pulled us into his orbit and there was no escape. He approached us and asked where we were from and how our trip had been but it was clear he was just segueing to his real sales pitch. Neither of us was ready for what he was selling.

“You like boys?” He enquired. 

“Ah… sorry?” I heard him clearly but was hoping he had asked something else, like “you want drugs?”

“You like boys? I have many little boys for you to …” He stopped himself as he registered our shock.

His eyes darted rapidly, as though he was all of a sudden naked and wanted to make sure no one noticed him in that state. 

Then he was gone, disappearing into the crowd. 

To this day I don’t know what to make of this encounter. If the rest of our trip was a showcase for the wonders of our world, this moment was a reminder that it is also a very complicated one. 

One man’s treasures

In 2019, My wife Sandra and I drove 3000 KM across the African nation of Namibia for our belated honeymoon. Up until that moment, Africa was a complete mystery to me. Whenever I mentioned Namibia to people, the most common response I received was “Don’t die.” Having successfully kept my life, I can confidently say that our experience couldn’t have been more life-affirming rather than life-risking. 

Namibia sits on the southwest coast of the African continent (to the left to Botswana and above South Africa for any geography simpletons like myself). I can go on for days about its awe-inspiring grandeur but there is one particular encounter (among many) that has stayed with me.

I have a saying I like reminding myself whenever I become dissatisfied with a particular situation in my life. 

All lives are possible.

It just means that there is no one-size-fits-all blueprint to a fulfilled life. Although our world is filled with misery of all kinds, I believe it is also filled with joy. We just have to find ours. It can come in all shapes and sizes and we needn’t get caught up in pessimism for too long because we possess the agency to change it. 

Namibia taught me that lesson on a few occasions but none more so than a place called Mesosaurus Fossil Site in Keetmanshoop. It is a rural property spanning across 7500 acres with a few humble guest huts and a completely isolated bush campsite. I have been to quite a few places in my time that I would describe as the middle of nowhere but this place may actually deserve that hyperbole. We chose to make the trip there because Sandra is a connoisseur of strange and unique plants (a hobby I've since come to appreciate). The campsite was surrounded by enormous block-shaped dolerite rocks and an estimated 5000 quiver trees. These strange botanical specimens look like they were materialised into being based on a verbal description of a generic tree by a five-year-old.

The site is also known for the presence of Mesosaurus Fossils (a freshwater crocodile-esque creature that lived in these parts almost 300 million years ago). They were discovered on the property accidentally by its owner Giel Steenkamp when excavating for agricultural purposes a few decades ago. Since that discovery, he has spent a considerable amount of time studying the fossils and their history, culminating in various university publications and this endearing place. 

As far as I could tell, this place and these fossils were Giel’s life and have been for a good chunk of his existence on earth. For the amusement of visitors, he plays the tune of Frère Jacques by tapping a small stone on different sized dolerite rocks and proudly announcing that he is the youngest fossil on the property. The reason why this interaction has stayed with me is that Giel struck me as one of the most joyful humans I’ve ever met. Perhaps it’s the wisdom that comes with age, perhaps it’s the calming effects of the endless Namibian plain. It was clear that despite the isolation and simplicity, fulfilment found a home here. 

Effortless Cool

Over a decade ago, my friend Stuart and I travelled to Brazil as a part of our self-guided tour of South America. There were many revelations made on that trip but my mind always drifts back to a conversation I had with a man named Diego. Too long has passed for me to recall his face or where he came from but a 2 am conversation on the curbside is etched into my memories. 

Diego was charismatic and musically talented. He had a great sense of humour and didn’t take himself too seriously. He was just one of those travellers that you wanted to be your friend from the moment you met him. He also had a patchwork of tattoos down his right (or left) arm that gave him an outlaw biker feel. It’s funny how overt signals often determine our perception of someone’s character. Days leading up to this conversation, Diego laughed and bonded with the rest of our impromptu group. My sense of him was that he was effortlessly relaxed and egolessly funny.

One night in Rio, we headed out to watch the rehearsal performance leading up to the annual Carnival festival. Among the cacophony of intoxicating Samba music, Diego and I sat down to give our wearied legs a rest. I remember looking at a particular tattoo on his right arm - an ace of hearts and blurted out the question “what’s that one about”. Over the years, I’ve developed an inclination for asking direct and arguably intrusive questions. I do it because I’m genuinely curious about the person underneath the small talk. 

Diego paused. He then began to tell me the story of the moment that came to define his life. 

He was engaged once, to a beautiful woman that he adored. They were both into motorcycles but he was into drinking more. On the morning of his marriage, he decided to take his soon-to-be bride out on a ride. It was raining and he was drunk. There were pleas to take it slow and perhaps not even go at all but amidst the drinking and the adrenaline, he didn’t have the faculty to heed warnings. 

She died that day and with her, the remainder of his self-control. He told me that he spiraled for a long time and got many of his ‘stupid tattoos’ as a part of that descend. I was struck by his description of his tattoos as stupid because that was also my first undisclosed impression. He said eventually he got to a place, with the help of his family and friends, where he could see the shore again and he has been making the slow swim back ever since. 

Each day I spend living, I become more aware that reality is always messier than the articulated story. I know that I have never experienced the type of pain Diego went through and he most certainly will never forget it but now I also understand a part of his effortless cool. He was a man that sank to the bottom of his personal hell and swam back to the surface through sheer will. That type of man isn’t going to care whether he had stupid tattoos. 

Big Dick Energy

I leave you this week with a conversation from one of the most unique places I’ve ever visited - the Kingdom of Bhutan. It was the fall of 2017 and I wanted to surprise Sandra with a trip. We were living in Shanghai at the time so I wanted to pick somewhere in Asia. After much research, I decided to go with the place I knew nothing about. Up until this point, I knew Bhutan because of its distinctive dragon flag and Gross National Happiness - its governing political philosophy. Although I am tempted to elaborate on all the truly enchanting things about this country, I will stay the course and only discuss this particular conversation I have in mind. 

Travel in Bhutan is quite restrictive for anyone other than a few neighbouring countries. The only way to do so for the rest of us is a pre-organised itinerary, a style of travel I generally stay away from. However, for this particular trip, the benefit of the package was the companion of a pair of excellent human beings that assisted us as our guide and driver. 

We drove from one gorgeous site to another. Witnessing the majesty of the Tiger’s Nest Monastery and the splendour of the Haa Valley. The particular conversation I had in mind happened on our walk to Chimi Lhakhang, a temple dedicated to the Buddhist Lama Drukpa Kunley, affectionately named the “divine madman”. 

Divine because he slew demons and

a Madman because he did his slaying with his “magic thunderbolt of flaming wisdom.”

AKA his penis.  

The village houses surrounding his temple are suitably decorated with murals of various depictions of fanged phalluses, some spitting out lightning and fire. The theory was that these formidable members would ward off any demons. In all honesty, I too would be petrified if I was a demon. There is not much dignity in death by pecker. 

Our guide told us that the Madman is also called the saint of 5,000 women and he enlightened them through sexual intercourse. He further explained that Lama Kunley was revered because he was the only lama to show that it was possible to obtain enlightenment without being a celibate prude. He famously declared to anyone who came to him seeking guidance that he would not help them unless they brought with them a beautiful woman and a bottle of wine. 

We were about three-quarters of the way to the temple and I had so many questions. At this point of our trip, it was clear to us that Bhutan was a very traditional nation, with citizens of a humble and conservative demeanour. That image was getting a little hard to maintain with the worship of a guy that went around slaying demons with his exaggerated pee-pee and demanding sex as repayment of his hard work (couldn’t help myself). 

I asked our guide if he personally considered these stories fictional or historic accounts and he told me without a pause that they were factual events. I am not often lost for words but I was for the rest of the walk up to the temple. 

When we got to the temple, we paid our respects at the shrine to the topless portrait of Lama Kunley and a monk came forth, unsheathed an object to reveal a large wooden plonker. Before I could protest, Sandra and I were both schlonged on the forehead and was ceremoniously told that we have been given the blessing of fertility. Looking at the AK47s and the ornamental swords hanging on each side of the shrine, I decided to stop asking questions and appreciate the fact that we live in a wonderful and wacky world. 

Last year, we were blessed with the birth of our first child, Noah. I guess we have Lama Kunley’s boner to thank. 

#3 Tribe, Culture and Games

I have a persistent thread of thought that I would like to untangle this week. It has to do with the variety of cultures and rules which we are born into. I haven’t completely clarified my ideas in this area yet but I’d like to just pull some of them out of my head. 

Actions, Consequences, and the Social Contract

We, humans, are undoubtedly social beings. The very few of us who choose to live as hermits are exceptions that only prove the rule. Our enormous societies today have their origins in the humble family unit—a group of us who live, work and play together, connected by bonds of kinship. I often imagine that in such a family unit, we all played a key role in its survival and progression. One of the advantages of living in such a small unit was that our contribution to it was very visceral. Regardless of how we contributed, it was very clear who we toiled for and why we laboured. There was a palpable and reciprocal relationship between one’s input into the group and the consequences of that input.

Eventually, driven by our curiosity and innate desire to have dominion over our environment, we worked out that it was more beneficial to work together in bigger groups to achieve our goals. As anyone who has ever been part of a group, even if two people will tell you that when you are trying to achieve something collectively, part of our individual needs has to be set aside for the benefit of the collective. This is the general basis of the ‘social contract’, a philosophical theory with a long tradition that postulates the origins of societies. The basic premise is that we choose to live in societies in accordance with an agreement or pact that governs our political or moral obligations. We frequently are expected to modify our behaviour in some way to act in accordance with the needs of society and, in return, society is meant to nourish us with stability, security and progress. 

Since living in tribal bands of less than 100 members, we have grown to societies of billions. Despite the covid-19 pandemic, our world is still interconnected in ways that aren’t visible to us. I used to imagine how great it would be if humans could be like ants, working together with a hive mind. I now realise that we are more like ants than ants. Ants cannot cooperate outside of their hives but we have managed to overcome an impressive amount of biological and cultural barriers to form a largely functional global community of almost eight billion people. 

The Fulfillment Paradox

As a collective, our species has been incredibly good at breaking barriers and innovating new rules that suit the changing times. I would have imagined that with all the material progress, we would all feel personally more fulfilled. This has not turned out to be the case. In his book Factfulness, Hans Rosling outlines countless ways our societies are materially better than they were and yet, many of us don’t feel that way. The conclusion seems to be that the world is getting better on most developmental metrics but we are all collectively feeling worse about it. Although we are living longer, more educated and far less conflict-prone, our emotional well-being is going the other way. 

I think much of our modern emotional disconnectedness comes from a problem of scale. We are educated to consider the entire world as our own tribe. As an individual in a world of billions, the impact of our labour becomes almost anonymous. The once-simple and essential relationship between input and the consequences of that input has become diluted and divergent. Instead of bonds of kinship or community, our labour is rewarded in something cold but scalable—money. We are performing tasks at such a trickled down level that our biological feedback mechanisms do not recognise this contribution and doesn’t reward us directly for it. Our world might be global but our experience is still local. 

I feel it would be unjust not to mention that I have been an immense benefactor of this globalised tribe. Without it, I would not have had the experiences, opportunities and friends that I have today. However, many people haven’t been so lucky. The dizzying pace at which our societies are growing has disrupted countless ways our species traditionally derived its fulfillment. There are more of us but we are feeling more isolated than ever. We have billions of tribesmen but most of them are invisible.

With that in mind, I want to share some personal feelings about the nature of our societies and delve deeper into our laboured pursuit of fulfillment.

The Game of Life

For a quick prologue—my early childhood was characterised by change. Within the decade from my birth, our family had moved at least 7 times—starting from my grandparent’s attic in rural Shanghai, and ending in a small rented apartment in Sydney, Australia. Due to various factors, between the age of 2 and 9, I was a boarding student at 4 different childcare centres and schools. The constantly changing physical environment made me experience our world a little differently than your average child. 

I came to see my surroundings not as a fixed set of rules, but as an ever-changing one. I’m not sure how many other people see their society as a set of rules but that’s how I’ve come to understand it. Each of our human societies is governed by a different set of social contracts, derived from its unique trajectory in history. Since my childhood, I’ve also had the immense privilege of travelling to almost every corner of the world. The culmination of these experiences has cemented one important realisation - that a ‘good life’ comes in all shapes and sizes. There is simply no archetype for what a fulfilling life looks like. Most of us just happen to choose a path that is closest to us because we were born into it. I have come to understand that we humans are exceptionally good at adapting to our circumstances and we do this by learning the rules and playing the games around us in the best ways we can. I don’t use the word ‘game’ to trivialize these rule-sets, I am deeply aware that many of them are a matter of life and death. I mean ‘games’ as in there are rules in each society set by generations of people who came before us and if we act in certain ways and pursue certain things, we will be elevated in that particular society. This is what we would normally call social status. Society and culture isn’t just food or any of the other external displays. At its core, it is a set of rules that govern individual conduct by assigning punishment and reward. It tells its members what is good, desirable or bad and undesirable. 

The expansion and blending of societies have resulted in endless games that we find ourselves in. Unlike recreational games we play, life doesn’t seem to have a discernible objective goal, I happen to think there isn’t an overarching one outside of survival of the species. There are in fact countless cultural games that our ape ancestors first started playing for a multitude of reasons and now we are many generations down the line playing new machinations of these games. What people generally term ‘success’ is simply someone who consistently played one of these cultural games exceptionally well. It might have started as a curiosity and became an obsession and we weighed that game more importantly over other games we could have played. The personal takeaway is, if success is what I am after, then I have to best pick a game as early as I can and hope that I have the physical, mental and emotional attributes to play it longer and better than other players in that game. If we despise the particular game we’re playing, it is probably a good sign that we either need to pick a different game to play, create our own game or find a culture that has a game better suited to us. 

I am conscious of the fact that the word ‘games’ seem vague to describe everything that humans do and not all games are in the same category, played on the same level and many are connected and interdependent. For this particular thread of thought, I am just referring to any human social engagement that has an explicit or implicit ruleset that governs how that engagement should take place.

The Ossification Problem

An interesting feature of our cultural rules is that they all tend to harden and become dogmatic and unsuited to perform their functions over time. Ossification of culture is an issue common across all structures and games created by humans. I believe the issue stems from the fact that as soon as we create rules, they become fixed and limited by our language. It becomes rigid and non-exhaustive. We cannot possibly agree on rules in a way that completely covers every single situation, there are always holes. We typically solve this by having a human interpret a set of actions to align whatever situation with the original intent but this is problematic as well. Any human must interpret the meaning of the original intent and must also make a decision on whether to defend the old rules to their letter or reinterpret them for the changing environment. We see this tension play out in politics, religion, sports, essentially anywhere that we have tried to impose a ruleset on. We even use the term ‘game the system’ because there are always opportunities to engineer some way of achieving a goal that is not consistent with the genuine intention of the ruleset. Ossification refers to a hardening of bones and when it comes to organisations, it means that the players in that organisation game the system over time, little by little until that organisation morphs into something that doesn’t at all serve its created purpose. 

All of these rules that govern our lives and our institutions are not static. They are moving and transforming in ways that are not immediately observable. Much of what we consider fixed is actually flexible, to varying degrees. Many things considered impossible is only so because most of us have never thought about challenging the status quo. When one of us achieves the ‘impossible’, we are collectively in awe because up until that point, we considered that limitation as a matter of physics. 

What then is the antidote to all of this? I have absolutely no clue. I do know that I feel better when I shrink my world down and spend time with the people I like. So I am going to do just that.

#2 Sisyphus, the Absurd Hero

As I attempt to articulate my thoughts, I am humbled by just how difficult it is to capture the essence of ideas through language. Whenever I follow a train of thought, I realise my ideas fork off onto a thousand paths, forcing me to obscure the whole landscape as I squeeze my flowing thoughts into something rigid. I am yet to arrive at a place to resolve this strain, nor do consider it possible. I have to remind myself that I am not trying to explain the entire cosmos but only use words to excavate my thoughts. For now, I will float downstream. 

There is an old story my mind wanders to in the quiet hours of the day. It was told that the Greek king Sisyphus of Corinth, anointed by Homer as “the most cunning of men”, managed to cheat death twice and caused pandemonium on earth. As punishment for his transgression, he was sentenced by Zeus to push a formidable boulder up a steep hill, only to have the stubborn rock roll back down so that he must repeat this meaningless task for all of eternity. This predicament Sisyphus finds himself in does not at first appear particularly relatable to our lives. Until I came across the great existentialist philosopher Albert Camus a few years back when I was searching for ways to understand life and all the ways it confounded me. To Camus, the myth of Sisyphus represented something far greater than its original intent. It is a depiction of our existence distilled down to its essence. Camus writes this poignant passage:

“Rising, streetcar, four hours in the office or the factory, meal, streetcar, four hours of work, meal, sleep, and Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday and Saturday according to the same rhythm – this path is easily followed most of the time. But one day the “why” arises and everything begins in that weariness tinged with amazement.”

If I ask myself that “why” enough times, I arrive at a place where our lives cannot be measured with any objective certainty. We clean only to have our homes dirty again, we work only to die without our belongings or fleeting accomplishments. Many generations will continue to do this only for the sun to one day explode and wipe the last remanence of our existence from this place. It will be as though we were never here. This realisation is deeply overwhelming to me. If everything we do is without meaning beyond ourselves, what would be the point of doing anything at all? Many of us circumvent this malady by a leap of faith towards a fixed ideology that reimagines our existence as a set of fixed and predetermined rules. These beliefs soothe our nausea by promising external meaning and certainty when faced with the staggering nature of reality - always threatening to swallow us whole if we allow our minds to stay for too long. 

I wholeheartedly understand the desire to have certainty. I believe this is why movies, tv shows, games and stories have always been so alluring to me. Within these confined worlds, as complex as they may be, the boundaries are intelligible. There is a beginning, an end and a manageable set of rules in between. I recognise in myself a persistent desire for certainty and for many years, I was convinced I had found it. Yet, for reasons hidden from me, I have never been able to get beyond the apprehension that all of these decrees, many of them very old, were once made up by a human born as clueless as I am. 

Camus’ Sisyphus makes no attempts to resolve this absurd nature of reality. He offers no finality to this dilemma. Instead, he advocates for something quite the opposite. In Camus’ view, Sisyphus was only condemned to perform his arduous task but he was not doomed to despise his existence. Perhaps it is this dogged need for certainty, the endless seeking for the panacea of meaning, that shackles and truncates us. Camus famously proclaimed

“You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.”

Too often do I treat moments in my life as just a vehicle, a means to arrive at some greater end that will help me capture objective purpose. This transactional way of living life seeps into our most sacred places. Before we have a chance to fall in love with an idea, a person or a passion, we twist and bend so that they may fit into arbitrary confines. We willfully blind ourselves to the worth of things in their own right. Inevitably, when we arrive at our imagined destination, we invariably realise it wasn’t as certain or meaningful as we thought and we begin our futile search again. 

“For if there is a sin against life, it consists perhaps not so much in despairing of life as in hoping for another life and in eluding the implacable grandeur of this life.”

Camus’ Sisyphus is not a tale of despair but heroic revolt. The tension I feel when I realise that whatever I choose to do, it will be as lacking in a grand purpose as anyone else is sobering. Camus reminds us that this does not have to be resolved by imposing a false reality, a kind of ‘philosophical suicide’. Instead, it can be acknowledged, experienced and embraced. This gives us the freedom to savour the transitory moments, to see the beauty within the cracks and white spaces. To do things for their own sake, enjoy our pursuits as ends in themselves rather than means to an end. To relentlessly affirm the lack of a pre-ordained, pre-packaged purpose for all of us paradoxically emancipates us to freely imbue a personal sense of purpose into every action we choose to take. When we realise this, the freedom is dizzying. 

As I imagine the stone inevitably rolling back down the hill, Camus writes

“It is during that return, that pause, that Sisyphus interests me. A face that toils so close to stones is already stone itself! I see that man going back down with a heavy yet measured step toward the torment of which he will never know the end. That hour like a breathing-space which returns as surely as his suffering, that is the hour of consciousness. At each of those moments when he leaves the heights and gradually sinks toward the lairs of the gods, he is superior to his fate. He is stronger than his rock.”

Camus’ Sisyphus has an enduring allure for me. It seems to capture the essence of our condition. It also treads the fine line between acknowledging our predicament while not promising to deliver us from it with false certainty. Despite this, I don’t feel as though I have arrived at a destination. Even as I write these words, I feel the persistent longing for an ultimate conclusion. To neatly capture all my swirling thoughts and turn them into something static and final. It takes a moment of silence to recompose myself and understand that the process of casting light on my thoughts and transforming them into words is enough to fill my heart. 

#1 By What Values Shall I Live?

So here we are. 

This is me trying to explore that persistent whisper on the frontiers of my mind. The whisper that compels me to answer the call to adventure. I have been living in that “in-between” place, a being that knows neither victory nor defeat. Just drifting between one expectation to another and yet always failing to reach my own. Writing might not sound like much of an adventure to some but it does to me. This is a step into the unknown.

It is with genuine fear and trepidation that I am publishing this first piece. What gives me courage is my belief that the things we cherish in this world should be done for their own sake and not as means to any ends and we must relentlessly protect the sacred places where our curiosity still burns. Here, in this place, I will explore and celebrate all the ways this life intrigues, excites, and mystifies me. So this is a personal pledge, to pour words onto these pages and leave them here once a week, no matter how imperfect they might be. If my words and ideas resonate with you, please get in touch because I would love to hear from you. 

As my first step, I want to explore the concept of Values - The set of beliefs mysteriously shaping all of our actions and decisions. What exactly do I stand for? Whenever I pose this question to my mind, a flood of answers pour forward like a rushing of waters but so many of the words that emerge seem to be more aspirational and untested. I would like to believe that I am honest, courageous, charismatic, and generous but if they are untested proclamations, are they true reflections of my being, or are they simply things I want to believe about myself. 

This is what I want to find out. What do I stand for and am I really who I project myself to be? I want to pursue a life where my actions are in sync with my values, not just my words.

Throughout all my enquiring, the framework that stands out above the rest to understand our development of values is Nietzsche’s Three Metamorphoses. The Camel, The Lion, and the Child. This was outlined in his work Thus Spoke Zarathustra. 

The Camel represents the way we are all born - carrying on its back all of the values and expectations handed down from the people who came before us. The endless “you shoulds” that stem from familial, religious, and social structures. 
The Lion represents a transitional stage where we reject the values given to us without our agency. A stage where we may indiscriminately replace the “you shoulds” with “Instead, I will”.

The Child represents a final stage of development where through our will, we affirm old values or create our own to move forward in this life. 

It seems to me that every human being alive is somewhere along the spectrum of Camel to Child. We are all born into a particular set of circumstances that impose expectations upon us. It’s not that these handed-down values are inherently wrong. Many of them are useful for physical or social survival. The issue is that as the Camel, we have not had the chance to evaluate these values and consider whether they are fitting for our own lives. They were simply there when we arrived for our first day on the planet. This process of assessing these pre-packaged values is paramount because social structures we humans create tend to ossify over time. Instead of serving its original purpose, it becomes corrupted, bastardized, and exists simply to maintain the status quo. 

It isn’t easy to combat the values handed down to us. It is a path fraught with danger and alienation. The worst part is that many of the existing values are there for very good reasons and you’ll prove yourself a fool for rejecting them. This rebellion requires herculean courage and that is where Nietzsche’s Lion plays its part. The Lion is a rebellious teenager. It is against authority for its own sake and doesn’t stop to consider whether the “you shoulds” have any validity. Being the Lion is a tricky proposition. On the one hand, your acts of rebellion are indiscriminate, it is a blunt instrument that doesn’t consider the merits of anything you rebel against and may leave a trail of broken things in its wake. On the other hand, it clears the space for new values to be created. Nietzche eloquently puts this

 “To create new values - even the Lion is incapable of that: but to create itself freedom for new creation - that the might of the lion can do.” 

I am undecided whether I can embody the Lion because I am not sure if I have the wisdom to differentiate the values worth keeping and the ones due for demolition. Nevertheless, having the courage to defy prevailing beliefs in defense of my own is something I aspire to. 

After the path is cleared by the Lion, The Child arrives to decide its Values for itself. Even if some of these values are the same as the “you shoulds” that the Camel carried, they have been transformed from “you should” to “I choose to”. 

If I am honest with myself about where I am on this journey, I am still the Camel, carrying the expectations of those before me and afraid to do anything different, even if I have a deep yearning to do so. When I look around me, I see that many of us are not living in ways that are meaningfully connected with our values. We make a series of passive decisions over long periods and the next thing you know, many of us are funneled into a part of society performing a certain function that has nothing to do with our core values. Some of us eventually come to terms with it while others suffer in quiet desperation. I would like to avoid both fates. 

To live closer to our values, we have to first know what we value. This is a harder proposition than it first appears because many of the things we think we value are simply virtue signals to be put on parade for others to see and values altogether are prone to change and evolution throughout our life. My experience so far has been that we won’t know what we value until we are tested by life. 

I have always been introspective. I think a lot and sometimes to my detriment. I have had periods of my life where I had ample time to think and other periods where thinking was a luxury and I’ve found both extremes to be unproductive to figure out what I truly value in this life. I don’t think I have figured it out for myself and certainly cannot speak for the plethora of personalities that require different methods out there but I can say this - If you are like me and your mind has always been busy seeking, you will not find your answers by thinking in a vacuum. When we are by ourselves and thinking without feedback from the world, the internal world we construct is riddled with faulty assumptions that lead to false conclusions. When we isolate ourselves completely, our thinking will not reflect reality. To truly know what we value, we must go out there and be the man in the arena. As the saying goes 

“Knowing is not enough, you must apply. Willing is not enough, you must do.” 

When I first started writing this piece, I was determined to identify my values with scientific precision. I hoped to come away from this process with a list of values I could definitively say I cherished. Instead, I encountered contradictions and inconsistencies in my thinking. It appears entirely meaningless to list out all my values because the essence of trying to encapsulate ‘values’ in any language is clumsy. As with all other traits about our species, our values are messy. I have values that have never been tested. I have acted in ways that are entirely against my values. I have values that I don’t have the right words to describe and I probably have values that I don’t consciously acknowledge. 

I feel a strange sense of defeat from not acquiring the precision I wanted but I’ve also gained an understanding that trying to understand what makes me tick is more of an art than a science. As I age, as I learn, as I interact with the world, my beliefs and values will change. Instead of trying to classify my values neatly onto a page, I will take my advice and live them through experience. What I know for certain is that I am far from living in complete harmony with my values and that may never be possible but I’d like to try because that seems to be what this whole living business is all about.