Heated arguments

This is a post about chillies and about endorphins. If you’re into either, read on, Macduff. I’m into both.
The kernel for this post was a story by Mark Frauenfelder on Boing Boing recently, revisiting an article he’d written some time ago called The Cult of Capsaicin.

In the excerpt, Mark quotes Dave De Witt, a seasoned (yes, pun intended) veteran of books on the chili pepper. Dave in turn refers to a Yale study in the 1970s that classified people into supertasters, tasters and nontasters, based on the number of taste buds per square something-or-the-other.

I’ll come to the argument and the controversy shortly; first, some scattered seeds to help those who aren’t yet into chillies big-time.

Believe it or not, there’s actually an index, the Scoville Scale, to measure the “hotness” of food, particularly chili peppers. To give you an idea of how hot hot can be, the Naga Dorset pepper, currently claimed as the world’s hottest chillie, has a Scoville rating of between 876K and 970K. Contrast that with the habanero, a measly 100K to 350K, or with your common-or-garden jalapeno, a miserly 2.5K to 10K.

There is some evidence to suggest that chillies only grow in hot climates, and that one of their key roles is to help humans living in such hot climates to cool down. The logic goes: Eat chillie. Sweat buckets. Allow prevailing wind to operate on sweaty body. Cool down.

Now that’s not everyone’s cup of tea (although the same logic is used to explain why people drink hot tea in hot climates, to cool down….).

There is also considerable research into the protective and curative properties of the chillie (assuming that this public domain good hasn’t already been illegally patented to death); one of the more unusual bits of research suggest that some aspect of capsaicin, the active compound present in chillies, helps produce anti-carcinogenic behaviour in the human body. But that’s a deeper subject. If you are interested in the rich history, culture, science and folklore of the chillie, I would recommend you read Amal Naj’s Peppers. It’s an excellent first book on the subject.

Now to the main course of this post. Frauenfelder’s story set off alarm bells in my head, as I saw an old controversy rear its ugly head. The controversial concept is simple:

  • Some people can eat hot chillies. Others can’t. The difference can be explained by the number of tastebuds.

The 1970s Yale study seemed to endorse this position, given the likelihood that people could be classified into super-tasters, tasters and non-tasters.

Wrong.

This is another nature-versus-nurture debate.

Man’s ability to endure chillie heat has nothing to do with tastebuds. It has to do with training the mind.

You see, chillies are a fantastic con. Let me explain.
When you drink a cup of really hot coffee or tea, you damage some tastebuds. If you lived in the US I guess you may even sue, on the basis that you couldn’t read Warning: Hot or something like that.

The damage that a hot liquid does to your tastebuds is physical. Unless you’re desperately unlucky, the damage is temporary; for a few days, a part of your tongue is over-sensitive to heat and cold, and you struggle. But soon you mend.

As against this, look what happens when you eat a really hot chillie. Brain gets message: I AM ON FIRE. Sends out the fire engines. Every mucous membrane known to mankind rains on the chillie’s parade. Brain  then says to itself, OK, damage limitation done. Now let’s see what else needs to be done. Oh yes, we took some serious heat there, better send out some heavy-duty painkillers. The brain then dispatches a cartload of endorphins. Shortly after, the body calms down and all is well.

Now you can train your body to be more efficient about this process. Eat chillies. Miss out the fire-engine bit. Do not pass Go. Go straight to collect endorphin consignment. Live happy.

This is not to say there isn’t a physical issue to do with chillies. Capsaicin is a major irritant. So you’re messing with death if you don’t wear gloves while chopping up really hot chillies. Don’t even think about removing contact lenses or visiting the men’s (or ladies’ ) rooms until and unless you’ve really washed your hands AND worn gloves.

The irritant aspect of capsaicin is one to be feared, especially with sensitive areas like the eyes, nose and for that matter regions further south. But most people don’t tend to eat chillies using those parts of the body.

For the mouth and the tongue, the irritant aspect is manageable and trainable. And the endorphin kick is enjoyable.

It’s only anecdotal and completely unscientific, but I know people who are serious foodies, with highly developed senses of taste, smell and flavour, who can and do eat heavy-duty chillies. At least one is also a pretty good judge of wine.

So for me I don’t buy the argument that chillie tolerance is connected to having a shortage of taste buds.

Any comments?

On collaboration and Prisoner’s Dilemmas and the Power of Many

Have you ever heard of Richard Butler? A man, who, according to Jim White in the Daily Telegraph, “hit the council where it hurts; he has kicked it in the red tape.” A delightful story that you can read here, without a paywall in sight.

The story’s simple. Council wants to build road through man’s garden. Man likes garden. Man protests, banner shows website address. Banner banned. “Illegal advertising”. So. Man introduces fractional ownership into said garden. Plots for £1 a pop. Buyers aplenty. Fractional owners dispersed globally. Council cannot build road until and unless all owners are served with compulsory purchase orders. Which will take time.

The power of many.
Different context. Willie Nelson. And band. Travelling through Louisiana. Issued misdemeanour citations. Rather than prison sentences. Because the band acted as a group. Story here.
The power of many.

Different context. Class 7A, Mr Patrick Vianna’s class, St Xavier’s Collegiate School, Calcutta. Sometime in 1971. Rich boy brings 100 rupee note to class. To pay school fees. 100 rupee note goes missing. “Prefect of Discipline” Fr Camille Bouche called for. He shuts the doors. Tells all forty-odd students (average age 13). Form a line. Walk one-by-one to the open window. Reach into pocket. Come out with a closed fist. Place fist through open window. Below sight line. Retract hand. Walk on. And magically, 100 rupee note is found on grass outside. [A classic example of the pragmatic wisdom and sensitivity shown to all of us by Father Bouche, who passed away a few years ago. A giant of a man. I miss him.]

The power of many.

Different context. Apocryphal tale. Calcutta, maybe 1974. Bank A wants to try and get Bank B’s customers, aggressive marketing ploy. You can open an account for as little as one rupee. Bank B, next door, sees marketing campaign. Bank B worries. Until someone has a brainstorm. Go out and give every street dweller you see a banana, a cup of tea and a rupee. Ask them to go and open an account at Bank A. Horrendous queues in front of Bank A, as they stroll in to open accounts. Regular customers don’t get served, switch over time to Bank B. [Was this the world’s first DDOS attack? :-) ] Plan backfires gloriously.

The power of many.

People who want to work together can do amazing things. Nitin Nohria and Paul Lawrence, in Driven, spoke of the Drive to Acquire, the Drive to Defend, the Drive to Bond and the Drive to Learn. I do so like their model, so much more than that of Maslow fifty years earlier. People want to bond. People want to learn. People want to defend that which they hold as precious. And people want to acquire, yes, but not at the cost of the other drivers.

Sure, any form of collective action has its perils and its misuses. But hey, any form of anything has its perils and its misuses. So let’s celebrate the different ways people work together in different contexts.

It’s OK to say good things about people

I believe in building people up, in encouraging people, in helping people develop to their potential, and to extend that potential.

I believe that social software helps us do that. It’s not the only way, it may not even be an important way, but it is a way.

Recent comments on Esther and her role at PC Forum, and on Kim Cameron and his role in the Microsoft OSP, have  helped me see just how good the blogosphere can be for encouraging people. Yes, in both cases they were helped by wonderful teams of people working hard together. Yes, in both cases the news created snowballs where people did the commenting all over the place, it wasn’t like everyone signed a card or something like that.  It’s just nice to be able to say “Well done”.
Yet people who don’t know much about the blogosphere somehow imagine it to be this nest of vipers where everyone flames everyone else, much bitching is done, people get cut down to size, whatever.

That’s a lie.

We need to understand that it’s OK to say good things about people. That it doesn’t automatically become some sort of mutual admiration society, some cabalistic heresy. It’s OK to say Well Done. Don’t let anyone take away that right.

Shoes are real. Money is an end result.

I’ve tended to devour everything that Peter Drucker wrote or said. One of my favourite Drucker sayings is this one:

No financial man will ever understand business because financial people think a company makes money. A company makes shoes, and no financial man understands that. They think money is real. Shoes are real. Money is an end result.

The first time I saw this particular quote was in an interview that Erick Schonfeld had done with Drucker in Business 2.0, maybe five years ago. And every now and then I’d see little gems from the interview being quoted, but began to get ever-so-slightly frustrated at being unable to find the original piece.

Now I’m a bit like Sean, we still read books, we still read hardcopy magazines, we tear things out, we scribble stuff on the torn-out pages, we squirrel them away. And sometimes we even find them. :-)
And so it came to pass, while clearing my garage, that I found the original October 2001 issue of Business 2.0, The One With The Interview In It. Entire of itself. Unexpurgated, unbowdlerised. [Erick, since your online archives only go back to 2003, may I scan the article in and post it here? Or do you have a link for me to use? I will e-mail you separately]

It’s a fantastic interview. I wish I could link to the whole thing, but instead, have restricted myself to just ten quotes out of the six-hour interview:

  • During the Internet bubble, it was argued that because the internet is important, it must be profitable. That does not follow.
  • The cultural impact of the Internet is far greater than the economic one. The important effect is on the middle classes in these half-developed countries. They don’t see themselves as part of their economy, but as part of the worldwide developed economy. This may be the next development: the emergence of psychologically global middle classes.
  • The customer uses the Internet not to buy a car but to eliminate or reject. Now, when they come to the dealer, they know what they don’t want.
  • Maybe on the Internet you need to be a buyer for your customer, not a seller.
  • The computer is a moron. It can’t handle more than one logical system…..The human mind, on the other hand, can handle quite a few logical systems at the same time.
  • There is a difference between a supplier that sees a quick buck and a supplier that sees a relationship. These things have not changed. Judgment, the computer cannot overcome.
  • To me, management is a practice, and a practitioner needs a practice.
  • You go ahead and do things. You don’t ask for permission because that implies the other fellow can say no. Yes, you risk ending up in jail. You have to take that risk.
  • In fact, I don’t particularly like to read management. I read Shakespeare.
  • What do you want to be remembered for? That I helped a few people accomplish my goals.

Somewhere within the seven pages of interview, Drucker sowed a number of very powerful seeds in my head. About what the internet really was. About the impact on the global middle class. About changes in marketing and in selling, about intention and recommendation. About relationships and judgment and empowerment and vulnerability and risk. About business. About life.

Thank you Peter Drucker.

A sign of the times

Clarence Fisher alerted me to this:

A version of David Weinberger’s Small Pieces Loosely Joined for children. What a wonderful idea. [Don’t worry, David, I won’t shanghai you into signing this one as well!]

And it got me thinking.

I will know that something significant has happened when the reverse takes place. When I see books published on blogs and wikis and chat and social networks, explicitly targeting the over 65s or something like that.

Or should I make that the over 25s? :-)