Questions and Answers

Another Otakon has gone and passed. As usual, the J-guests got the shaft, stuffed into subprime timeslots and subjected the usual lack of panel structure and random questions from an underinformed audience. I was talking to Greg about the sorry state of these panels and comparing them to some of the guest panels at Anime Expo that I had been to a number of years ago where they picked a topic that a number of guests had in common (being manga creators in this case), and then putting them onto a panel and having them discuss with live translation and audience input. What made this such an interesting experience was learning about stuff that I didn't know about and wouldn't even thought to ask. The problem is that really in the big picture, neither I nor almost any other fan is really in a position to know how to ask a really interesting question. We have so little context that we don't know what we don't know. It's like when I'm giving training and after delivering the agenda, ask if there are any questions. Well, usually there are none since the students know too little about the topic to be able to formulate questions.

Fast forward a day and I'm at a hotel in NJ im'ing Ben and Catherine about CAFE and discussing the use of questions as openers when greeting people and creating conversation. But coming up with good ones is surprisingly difficult since something very generic like "Hello, may I tell you about the anime club?" or "Are you interested?" feels flat and insipid. There's a catch-22 here where you need to know a decent amount about the subject before you can come up with a good question. (In this case the problem is tractible since we do know something about the target based on their behavior at the event.)

And then as precursors to answers, questions have a lot of power. The target of a question often feels a significant compulsion to answer a question, and thus internalizes the topic and perhaps even temporarily structures all thinking in the way indicated by the question. Imagine asking a series of questions like "When's the last time you had a really good dish of pasta? What were it's properties? How do you think they made it?" Then, follow up with "Oh, I just heard of this great Italian place that just opened. Wanna try it?" There is almost limitless potential here.

In school, training, and work, we spend most of our time learning to come up with answers and then applying that skill. However as a precursor, the question frames and structures the entire exercise. How the question is posed can determine if the problem is tractable and useful. Hard problems are often so invisible that we don't know to pose a question that hilights them and thus blissfully march onwards to doom. We are trained how to structure answers, but are left to our own devices when trying to define questions. Take for instance: "How do we save CJAS when membership has been in decline for years?" Is this the right question? What about: "Is CJAS worth saving?" Well, that's a higher-level question in some ways, but again, is it the right one? How do I know if I have the right question? How do I know how to find the right question?

To some extent, simply realizing how important it is to come up with the right question is enough to set one on the right track. It's really difficult to "know what you don't know," but acknowledging that there is this kind of boundless unknown out there that needs to be investigated somehow is enough to get started. The problem is, it's too easy to get set on the track of looking for answers prematurely without having defined the question, especially for engineers like me. I always need to consciously remind myself to stop, consider what the question is, and ponder whether that is the correct question. Unfortunately, hand in hand with "always need" is "often forget." Ah, well...

Internal and External Perspectives

I caught wind of two articles recently that provide two intersting views of anime fandom in Japan. They first is an analysis of otaku as consumers by the Nomura Research Institute, and the second is JETRO's updated "Japan Animation Industry Trends." These two articles have an intersting contrast because the Nomura article analyzes the internal behavior of otaku consumers while the JETRO article analysis the external environment surrounding this behavior. Although, when I actually read the articles, they spark two entirely different lines of thought.

The Nomura article is interesting in how it segments and analyzes the behaviors of otaku groups. It identifies 7 segments of otaku based on the goods they consume: Comics, animation, games, PC assembly, mobile IT equipment, audio/visual equipment, and cars. It also equates otaku to the term "enthusiastic consumer." Across all enthusiastic consumers (regardless of the good they consume), the article describes several common behaviors. The ones that particuarly caught my eye are "strong orientation toward forming a community" and "actively creating fan fictions" (although the latter is a pretty bad title for the effect described, which includes such non-fiction activities as "publishing critical essays, making character figures, and studying how to become skillful at games"). These two behaviors tie closely one of the two ways I see otaku commonly defined in peoples' minds: an "additive" and "subtractive" way (for lack of better terminology).

In the subtractive view, you view an otaku primarily by what the subject lacks due to the intensity of their interest in a given topic. So, interest in anime has left them little room for social skills, showering, unrelated popular culture, and current events. Thus by this standard, hikikomori-type behavior is a close relative of otaku. When I've brought up this concept, it seems to resonate more with the less-otaku, although my sample size is tiny. This is the traditional negative stereotype of otaku and, in a typically cynical and pessimistic outlook, the way I expect to be initially viewed when I am identified as an otaku.

In the additive view, you view an otaku primarily by what the subject has gained due to the intensity of interest in a given topic. Foremost among such behaviors, are a strong social network with other like-minded individuals, and a high level of active participation even for typically passive forms of consumption. Thus by this standard, hikikomori-type behavior is almost antithetical to otaku. This is the perspective that the Nomura article focuses on, and is the definition that Lawrence and many other otaku researchers use. This is a position that I used to view as too optimistic and too distant from the non-otaku expectation to be viable. But more and more, I am gravitating towards this as a more accurate point of view.

Why has my leaning changed? Well, part of it is practical reasoning. Let's say there's a population of these maladjusted subtractive otaku out there. Where would I encounter them? Would they come to an anime club? Participate in activities? Probably not, but perhaps some bold ones do. Well, once they start listening to coherent conversations about diverse topics, are they going to stick around? Perhaps they'll flee in fear? Are non-otaku really more likely to encounter them than me? Based purely on my subjective sample of anime fans I've met, few to none of them really fall in this subtractive otaku mold. Does that mean I haven't seen any of them? Sure, I've seen a few, although most in a kind of "behind glass at the zoo" sort of way. But defining otaku this way is so narrow, that:
(1) There would be very few people in this category overall
(2) The effective probability of meeting such a person is near zero

Well, defining a group of effectively zero people seems kinda pointless. It's not useful to ponder a set of hypothetically unpleasant characteristics that I won't actually encounter. A survey of the flaming-hoop-jumping behavior of circus lions isn't great value if I'm out in the African plains among the majority of real lions. The otaku I read about in the media, interact with, influence, and am influenced by all would be defined as additive. Tsutomu Miyazaki and the AUM Shinrikyo are in the distant past. The way that the industry and its enthusiastic consumers have shunned "AUM-like" representations says a lot about how the population of otaku really shun that sort of mentality. When 20,000 people converge from far and wide to show off their elaborately constructed costumes and engage each other in structured dialogue, or 250 people spend a year to prepare such an event with little to no monetary compensation, it is difficult to intuitively say that the subtractive view is the more correct one to map onto the population.

And then from the purely business-greed-money perspective, the Nomura article would imply that otaku as consumers are notable and valuable for their additive behavior.

The JETRO article, on the other hand, is kind of a laundry list of statistics. The most interesting non-numeric part for me is the diagram of the structure of the animation industry, through the layers of production contractors, sales organizations, and distributors. There are some interesting stats to go along with some my earlier blog entries.

• Average cost-per-episode for anime in 2003: ¥10M (~$95K), but as low as ¥5M (~$48K)
• Number of anime programs per year: 2850 (55/week or 7.8/day)

They also cited a lack of expertise in conducting international business when it comes to foreign licensing. The number of anime programs per year clarifies the previous statistic with the whole "192 Episodes per Day?" issue. This is an annual figure. 7.8 shows per day acutally seems a little low to me if reruns are included, but that's a possibly incorrect instinct. It just dawned on my that I can correlate some of this to the count of anime shows listed in Newtype to see if we're looking at the same ballpark numbers.

Irresistable Manipulation

Two groups of students are given tests. Group A gets a test asking them to consider sentences that have politeness as a common theme. Group B gets a test without such a theme. The students are then sent to meet a professor who never shows up. Group B people leave after some amount of time, in tens of minutes perhaps. Group A people basically wait forever. Without realizing it, members of Group A have been subjected to subtle yet powerful manipulation.

Students are surveyed and rate a professor at the end of a course. A different group of students attend a single lecture by that professor and rate him. Another group of students watch 10 minute video clip of the professor's lecture and also rate him. Another group does the same with a 5 minute clip, then another with a 1 minute clip, another with a 10 second clip. The result? All the groups of students give the professor the same rating, regardless of how much time they spent observing. The implication here, is that snap judgements are formed quickly and that, once formed, are difficult to change.

These examples come from Malcolm Gladwell's recent book "Blink." I heard them this morning in an interview with Gladwell on NPR, I have not read the book. I have, however, read Robert Cialdini's "Influence: The Psychology of Persuasion," which describes many powerful effects and was written more than 20 years ago.

In sales training, we learn the tip of the iceberg in navigating social constructs and influencing individuals and groups to our desired outcome. I've seen it work in practice. Reams of psychology research and papers confirm: the ability to irresistably manipulate minds is real. All it takes is knowledge. And this body of knowledge grows every day.

Well, perhaps "irresistable" is not entirely correct.

In "The Exorcist," Max von Sydow's character warns his young protege "The devil will mix lies with the truth. You must not listen." We can envision vivid portrayals of a cranky Brooklyn man with his family, listening to something disagreeable on the radio and yelling "This is total BS. Turn it off!" We've heard the stories of religious zealots who, rather than reasoning against their less religious foes, simply cut them off and instruct their followers not to listen. I don't need to pay attention to the person speaking to me. I can think about my upcoming vacation and stare out the window into the parking lot, counting the cars. A test subject in Group A can, instead of earnestly taking the test, randomly circle answers in order to get out as quickly as possible.

But this would be a pretty sad way to live one's life. There are people who do this; I try to avoid them. Closing one's mind to the world creates the fundamental assumption that one's internal model of the universe is the pinnacle of accuracy and that nothing can improve it. Studies are assumed to be biased and manipulative. Logic assumed to be false.

Instead, I try to consider the world in a way influenced by Russo and Schoemaker's "Winning Decisions : Getting It Right the First Time." Especially after taking Prof. Russo's related course (and discovering him to be one my my favorite professors of all time). It seems obvious that my model of the world is, while usable, heavily biased by a number of random and non-random factors, making it brittle, and thus requires constant input and adjustment. To receive that adjustment and make improvements in my capabilities, I need to be constantly open to listening, receiving, and considering input from others; especially disconfirming evidence that shows that something about my view of things is wrong.

How can one reconcile this need to be open to external influence (especially influences that conflict with existing beliefs) with the evidence that the act of receiving is all that's necessary to be subject to powerful external manipulation?

"The Third Side" by William Ury

I was listening to NPR yesterday and heard this program on the show "Humankind". Their guest was William Ury, the famed negotiation specialist who wrote "Getting to Yes." Ury was promoting his new book "The Third Side" which is about how in a two-party conflict, a third party can have a huge impact in creating a more positive outcome, sometimes by doing little more than bearing witness to the situation.

Ury struck me as tremendously compassionate when he stressed how we all have the capability, and perhaps even the repsonsibility, to act in a "third side" kind of role because this position has so much power in improving the outcome of a conflict situation. (He also stresses how little engagement is necessary to be an effective "third side".) This is in stark contrast to my New Yorker, "keep your head down and eyes forward" kind of upbringing. I'm reminded of a time when we made a gorup outing into the city and passed by this frail old woman in a wheelchair who had gotten stuck trying to roll from the street onto the sidewalk. Almost all of us, myself included, basically ignored or didn't notice the woman and her quiet pleas for help. Jerry however, heard her and acted, pushing her securely onto the sidewalk where she could continue her journey on her own power. It's not as if I didn't notice, but as part of this defense-fear-NYC kind of reaction, erased her from my reality for that moment.

I didn't get to hear the whole radio program, I should fill out the survey on that site and listen to it on my iPod. I also need to stop in at Border's and buy that book.

That Dry British Humor

Along with millions of other people, I finished the sixth installment of Harry Potter recently, although on audiobook rather than on printed page. The forced pacing and addition of delivery style that comes from having a practiced reader brings out certain elements that I might not have noticed if I were blasting through the book at a furious visual pace. There was one particular line that really stood out as being hilariously funny, down in chapter 26 right before Harry and Dumbledore start the thing with the potions:

"Harry did not speak. Was this why he had been invited along? So that he could force-feed Dumbledore a potion that might cause him unendurable pain?"

When reading it visually, the humor is not readily apparent, and will probably be lost by explanation if it didn't already hit you. At first, it seems like this is a bit of internal semi-dialogue, showing you what's going in Harry's mind. But really, this thought is quite non-sequitur; it is obvious that this is not the reason Harry was brought along. (Can you imagine Dumbledore saying "Yes Harry, I am actually a masochist. This is the true reason why I brought you. Now hurt me, quickly!") Not only that, but given the context, there's no reason for Harry to be thinking such a thing; he should be too frightened and stressed to have such idle thoughts. Hearing it delivered, the out-of-place-ness really jumps out and makes it appear that this is the author's statement, made as a joke to the reader, right in the middle of an sombre scene where one would least expect it.

Well, there goes another joke, destroyed by over-analysis.

Bourgeois Indoctrination

Yes, it's that most bourgeois of Northern California activities... wine tasting. Today, in Sonoma County: Dry Creek and Anderson Valley.

Farmer's market in Healdsburg included the "Toffee Doctor," some dude dressed up as a doctor selling decent toffee. The health inspector gave his stall her approval.

First stop: Rosenblum
Downtown Healdsburg, more like a store than a tasting place.
Decent and very smooth Viogner
Decent and economical late-harvest Zinfandel. Not as good as the Ridge Essence, but less than half the price at $18/bottle.

Second stop: Raffanelli
Had to spit in sink. Two large dogs. Previous group had ex-Burlingamoids who fled after the region became a "yuppie dump." Simultaneous to these comments, Rourke types away on his Blackberry.
Very fruity Zinfindel, slightly peppery and possibly the first good Zin I've had

Third stop: Dry Creek
So-called "late harvest" Zin was only like a slightly sweet regular Zinfandel; kinda a gyp
Brought grappa

Fourth stop: Dashe
Ridge's old winemaker. Their tasting place is shared with some other small winemakers in a facility called "Family Winemakers." Rourke discovered that the Dashe late-harvest Zin he bought at Whole Foods could only have been sold to him through a heinous error, both too early and too cheap by far.
Really good Zin, rivals Raffanelli for best Zin of the day. Had the intense flavor of Dry Creek's so-called "late harvest", just by itself.

Fifth stop: Goldeneye
Nice dried raspberries, two unexciting Pinot Noirs.

Sixth stop: Londer
Dude's house, tasted in kitchen. Retired doctor. Dubious dirt road but Rourke avoided scraping the bottom of his car.
Really good Pinot Noirs very flavorful and fruity
Really fruity and aromatic dry Gewurzstraminer
Bought sweet Gewurztraminer and Pinot Noir "Paraboll"

Seventh stop: Navarro
Stole unripe grape from vine. Firm fruit, single seed.
Interesting peppery Pinot Gris
Unremarkable White Riesling and Edelzwicker(riesling,gewurtzraminer,pinot gris blend)
Solid, "classic" pinot noir
Bought Pinot Noir juice

Eigth "stop": Greenwood
Stole several unripe Pinot Noir, White Riesling, Chardonnay, and Savingnon Blanc grapes

Ninth stop: Husch
Interesting "preserved pear" tasting late-harvest Gewurztraminer

Whew... a total of nine stops is pretty epic; more than enough wine for a single day. So then we wnet to Mendocino for dinner.

Dinner, more specifically the food, was totally hilarious. Mendocino is right next to the ocean. It's fog covered and smells of the sea. Thus, it seemed natural to go to a place decorated with a big fish outside and order seafood. Things went downhill from there. First, the clam chowder was awful. Really, inexcusably so. There was so much flour, to make up for a lack of cream, that if there were any more, we'd be eating one big clam dumpling rather than soup. Rourke ordered "Scallop plus prawn and chips." I got a rock shrimp scampi. What was hilarious was how theoretically wrong these dishes turned out to be.

Rourke's dish ended up being a couple of heavily battered scallops and shrimp (like fish-fry style batter) and a nasty ultra-sweet cocktail sauce. My shrimp came with this weird rice pilaf that had chopped scallions in it, and what could only be described as a diner stir-fry. Brocolli, carrot, onion, mushroom, red cabbage, and cauliflower cut small and then cooked over high heat with a little oil. This side dish and Rourke's over-battered scallops, I found totally hilarious. Rourke simply thought his food was bad. After we left the establishment, we saw a family examining the menu outside. I commented, "Do you think we should warn them about the food?" Rourke proceeded to yell to them "Don't do it!!!" prior to us disappearing around a corner.

Media in Japan Article

More about journalism, for later review and and analysis:

http://www.jpri.org/publications/workingpapers/wp40.html