What one hopes for in professional meetings but rarely, if ever, encounters

July 30th

The occasion of my brief Korean trip was System Dynamics Society Annual meeting. The Society meetings are what one hopes conventions and association meetings will provide - high quality papers, conversations with colleagues sharing common interests, an opportunity to make new friends and a remarkable sense of community.

The field was founded by one of the great intellects of modern times - Professor Jay W. Forrester, now emeritus at MIT’s Sloan School of Management. Since the field is new - the first papers appeared in the 1950s - most of the field’s leaders and founders are not only still living but attend the Annual Meetings regularly. (Tragic exceptions are MacArthur Genius grantee, Donella Meadows and creator of the first graphical user interface for System Dynamics Modeling (Stella), Barry Richmond). Most studied with Professor Forrester at MIT (as I did for a memorable year, but later in my professional career). In contrast to many fields, leaders and luminaries mingle freely and informally with newcomers and students. No other field, in my experience, is as friendly, welcoming and inclusive. The world’s most widely read book based on a computer model The Limits to Growth (the first report to the Club of Rome) uses System Dnamics theory/methodology. So do parts of other "global models."

The fact that all members share a common theoretical-methodological language (emphasizing dynamic behavior generated by feedback loops) also sets the field apart. Whether the topic of discussion is sustainability of the planet earth, urban development in Asia (my own present interest), efficiency in project management or improving product marketing in the pharmaceutical industry, all can understand the presentation and contribute. Discussions are lively, informed, respectful and collegial.

Even if you feel you have no interest in System Dynamics modeling or have never even heard of it, you should check out the System Dynamics Society website and even consider attending an annual meeting (the next will be in July 2011 in Washington DC). The experience will remind you of what you may have hoped for in a professional association but had - sadly - come to accept that attaining that vision of professionalism, community and collegiality was probably not possible.

Returning to Seoul after more than 20 years

July 29.

My last trip to Seoul was in 1984 or 1985. I was an invited participant in a “Conference on the Unity of the Sciences,” sponsored by the Reverend Sun Myung Moon. Other participants and I stayed in the city center. Our hotels were among the very few high rise buildings. There was no underground metro; a Korean Buddhist Temple, surrounded by a tranquil park was nearby. In the morning - about 6 am - I arose and walked around the city in an early December snowfall. The setting was very much like Colombo and smaller Sri Lankan Cities are now - many small shops and eating places in one and two story buildings. I was impressed with the Koreans discipline and industry. They were up early, opening up their storefronts, making tea over small open fires and scrubbing the sidewalks clean of snow and debris. I remember the complexes of underground passages, constructed to serve as bomb shelters during the Korean war. They were still available for that purpose - their unpredictable neighbor to the North remained a brooding, threatening, unpredictable presence. “Great Leader” Kim Il Sung was still in charge, with ‘Dear Leader,” son Kim Il Jong waiting in the wings. However they were filled with small commercial establishments.

What a transformation Seoul has experienced. It is now a city of nearly 20 million, with a public transit system that is more extensive and complex than Singapore (and far more extensive and complex than Washington DC). In the downtown area where I walked as a much younger man, the storefronts have been replaced by modern office buildings, fronted by wide sidewalks (often with bicycle paths). Expensive automobiles fill the streets and there are frequent traffic jams - no Singapore Style (automobile) Certificates of Entitlement or Electronic Road Pricing in Seoul. In the neighborhood where I stayed, near the site of the 1998 Olympics, there were high-rise apartment complexes that were taller and more extensive than Singapore’s Housing Development Flats. They were interspersed with parks, playgrounds and fitness areas but, surprisingly, no commercial establishments or Hawkers’ Stands. Whre are there places for people to shop and eat out, withing walking distance, I wondered?

Surprisingly, the pace of life in Seoul, at least where my limited walking took me, seemed more relaxed than in Singapore. In the apartment complex where I walked, along the streets and in a beautiful park adjoining the Olympic Parkhotel, couples strolled, with mixed couples and pairs of women often holding hands. In Singapore, strolling - and holding hands - are very rare. When people walk, it seems mostly to be with a purpose. And Singaporeans almost always walk fast.

After walking several miles I was getting hungry, Finally I reached the periphery of the housing complex and a bit further on, found a commercial area, including one narrow street fronted by many bars and restaurants. Apart from my hotel, this was one of my few experiences with Korean food. Unlike in Singapore, knowledge of English is rare in Korea, even in areas regularly frequented by tourists. This may partially explain the greater popularity of Singapore as a tourist destination. The paucity of English extends even to most restaurants where menus are in Korean only and none of the staff speak English. Menus do have pictures, as in Japan, but it is hard to figure out what the pictures represent. This makes any meaningful sampling of Korea’s idiosyncratic cuisine, in which varieties of seafood seem to predominate, difficult. One eating place offered live eels writhing in a tank from which one could choose. In the restaurant I fselected on Monday evening, I finally pointed to something that looked like stew. It turned out to be richly varied thick seafood soup that was served in a large earthenware bowl. It was edible - even tasty - but I have no idea what more that half the ingredients were. In general I am wary of seafood when traveling, except in Japan, but experienced no adverse effects.

Another evening I ate with friends at what was reputed to be a popular Korean barbecue restaurant. Interestingly this not particularly pricey establishment sent a shuttle van to pick us up and transported us back to the hotel when we were done. (We did have to get out and give a push, when it got stuck in a pothole exiting the parking lot.) The dinner was OK and we enjoyed each other’s company, however I will not be returning to Korea for the food.

But the friendliness of the Korean people might motivate a return visit. Those whom I encountered, both in commercial establishments and casual meetings might bring me back. What they have accomplished as a nation in 20 years is quite remarkable, though my impression is that they are less concerned about issues of sustainability than the Singaporeans and much less skillful at attracting tourists. This makes the bleak circumstances of their brethren in the north all the more poignant and tragic.

"Best Practices" in international air travel

July 24/29 - Traveling from Singapore to Seoul and back again.

Flying Singapore Airlines business class on long haul flights is a memorable experience, as I have written in previous postings. From check in-to landing, every detail is managed with such attentiveness and efficiency; one wishes the flight might last a bit longer. But I had never flown economy class and wondered what that experience would be like. On today’s medium distance from Singapore to Seoul, I had the opportunity to find out.

From years of post 9-11 international travel, I have habituated myself to 3 hour early airport arrivals, with additional cushions for untoward events built in. War ravaged Sri Lanka requiresthis, but so does the United States, where highways can be jammed, checkin lines long and (especially in the US) security check in lines even longer. This morning, I arrived early. Check in took ten minutes with no lines. The service was more modest than the spectacular level business class provides, but cheerful, conscious and efficient.

Whenever I check in at Changi airport or fly Singapore airlines, I wonder, with a bit of nostalgic sadness why American airlines and airports can’t be better. In my early years of international air travel, Pan American World Airways and the Pan Am Terminal at Kennedy Airport set widely admired standards to which others aspired. I wonder if executives of US Air and United Airlines - to target my worst offenders - ever travel incognito on their own carriers, experiencing the dispirited (sometimes bordering on hostile) checkin and cabin service that I have experienced. Do they investigate the best practices of carriers such as Singapore and Qatar, regularly ranked #1 and #2 by international travelers. Are they trying to set a standard of excellence and failing due to incompetence or lack of effort. Or is it that they simply don’t care.

PS. The gate check-in process at Inchon Airport (on my return flight) - was well below Singapore Airlines standards. It was so much below my usual experiences I asked if those in charge were Singapore Airlines employees. One said “yes” but the others were employed by their “partners.” Insofar as is possible, it seems to me that SAL should choose “partners” with care and, having chosen, should be attentive to the level of service they provide.

Sri Lanka Diary #4. Viewing the clear night sky in Matara

It rained in the early evening, but now the night sky is clear. Standing on my beachfront balcony listening to the surf, I can see a multitude of stars but the constellations are, of course, unrecognizable. My freshman year midshipman cruise on the battleship USS Wisconsin came to mind. As the ship steamed north from Valparaiso Chile, other midshipmen and I would lie on the after part of the ship (the fantail) watching films and the stars overhead. The Southern Cross, which Magellan’s sailors viewed as an omen of their impending death, was often clearly visible. Tonight, I reflected on the ensuing years since that young man, 19 years of age, viewed the stars in the Southern Hemisphere night sky. I thought, “If I should die tomorrow, I would be grateful for the opportunities that life has offered to follow interesting paths, in many parts of the world, and to make a difference.” It was a peaceful moment.

Then I remembered the briefing notes on the dynamics of aging I just completed for a task force examining new research opportunities at Singapore’s National University. One slide featured men and women who had made major contributions - sometimes the major contributions of their lives - after age 70. One notable example, among many, was Deng Shao Peng, who did not begin the reforms that have transformed China until after he had celebrated his 74th birthday.

Clearly it is too soon for self-satisfaction. There must still be challenges and opportunities on the road that lies ahead, The must be promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.

Sri Lanka Diary #3. Early morning sights in Matara, uniformed schoolchildren, crows, dogs, and cattle.

Sri Lanka Diary #3. Early morning sights in Matara, uniformed schoolchildren, crows, dogs, and cattle.

As I wrote in a blog last April, Matara is now my favorite Sri Lankan destination. It is four and a half hours drive from Colombo and about five hours - or a bit more - by train. I particularly wanted to make a longer visit here because of the Buddhist temple located on an island about 100 meters from the shoreline, near Matara’s main market. The temple is unprepossessing. There are just a few small buildings surrounding a worship and assembly hall, fronted by a large Buddha statue. The statue is framed by white curtains which, however, leave it visible to worshippers. When I first saw this hall in April, it seemed as if it would be a tranquil place to meditate, with little more than the sound of the ocean, plus an occasional crow cackle horn bleat from the nearby bus station in the background. This visit has confirmed my intuition.

I have been walking to the temple for an hour or more of meditation about 6:20 each morning. A few yards away from my very modest room at the “Brown’s Beach Rest” are miles of unsullied ocean beachfront. Browns Beach Rest has only seven rooms; only two (mine and another) have ocean views. Four are interior rooms with no view at all. There are only two other accommodations for visitors, of about the same size, on the beachfront. Matara is definitely not a major tourist destination.

At 6:30 in the morning, the beachfront’s principal occupants are flocks of crows and dogs, some alone and others in small packs. Crows are ubiquitous in Sri Lanka, though less prevalent in Colombo than was once the case. They are self confident scavengers, sharing the terrain with humans and other living beings fearlessly. The dogs are of a small to medium sized variety, common in Sri Lanka. I call the breed “entropy,” something like what you would get if all dogs in the world bred with all other dogs an infinite number of times. Some are running and playing with one another in small packs. Others are alone. Mostly, their disposition is cheerful and they mostly seem healthy and well fed. I have not yet figured out whether they have owners. There are also a few middle aged walkers, almost all male. Some pump their arms vigorously. They are getting their daily exercise. Greeting strangers is not the custom in Sri Lanka, unless the stranger is obviously a tourist and the greeter wants something from him or her.

As I walk towards the temple, busloads of schoolchildren arrive to populate the four schools on the beachfront, two Christian (one for boys, one for girls) one Muslim and one Buddhist. Most wear the traditional uniform of white trousers and shorts for boys and white dresses for girls. One group wear blue trousers or skirts and white shirts. All wear ties. With very few exceptions, they are quiet and orderly. Some stare at me with smiling curiosity as I walk by. I smile back. I have seen only three other non Sri Lankans in Matara. There are none walking along the beachfront at 6:30 in the morning.

Under a copse of trees on the beachfront near the marketplace, a small number of apparently homeless men and women congregate. One is a mother with a small child. Some have set up housekeeping with spreads on the ground, possessions in plastic bags and articles of clothing hanging on a nearby fence to dry. Clearly they are not picnickers. It occurs to me that if homelessness was my karma, Matara might not be a bad place to live out that life.

Walking back from the temple, 90 minutes later, the scene has changed. Arriving busses are now packed with commuters and, perhaps, shoppers. Schoolchildren have disappeared into their walled compounds. The walkers have completed their rituals and turned to other tasks. Few dogs remain. Where have the others gone? But now, the grassy strip, about twenty meters wide, between the road and the beach, is occupied by a number of grazing cattle. Others, along with crows, are sampling the refuse heap adjoining the market place. They seem placid and reasonably well cared for. Later in the day, as I write this posting, I can see about twenty taking their rest from the open door of my second floor balcony, adjoining the beach front. The appear not to care about an ocean view; most are looking toward the road. At nightfall they they will be gone. I have no idea where? When I have long sojourn in Matara, as I intend to, there will be time to learn more about these things.

Among all these creatures the crows seem most robust and resilient. When there are no longer dogs, cattle, schoolchildren, homeless people or other human beings living on planet earth, my sense is that crows may well continue to thrive and prosper.

Sri Lanka Diary #2. Running errands in Colombo and a drive to Matara: only a few “small problems” to be resolved.

Having expended more than 90 minutes at the airport in my fruitless attempt to install Dialog GSM’s portable internet service, I was now late for a dinner party in my honor, hosted by a friend who values punctuality. To save time, I chose to negotiate transport to Colombo and a vehicle and driver for the next day with the first Airport Transport employee who accosted me. His firm I shall call “Reliable Tours and Travels.” He was cordial and the price he offered, with little haggling, for the drive to Colombo plus a car and driver to run errands and make the 160 KM run to Matara, on the Southernmost tip of the island, seemed reasonable. I signed on and paid for the service in advance - about $130.00 US. My only requirement, I said, was a driver who knew Colombo and was reasonably fluent in English. The Reliable Tours employee, whom I will call Mr. Gunawardena, assured me he understood fully. “You wouldn’t want to make such a long trip with someone with whom you could not speak,” he volunteered, corroborating my views.

The next morning, my car and driver arrived punctually in a comfortable vehicle with - as we discovered - only one small problem, brake pads that, while they functioned effectively, made a rasping noise each time they were applied. It then unfolded that there were two other small problems, the driver, whom I shall call Mr. deAlwis, had only fragmentary knowledge of English or Colombo geography. Fortunately, my knowledge of Colombo is sufficient, after many years, and we were able to communicate sufficently to reach my various destinations. There would be no extended dialogues between Mr. DeAlwis and myself, however.

With errands completed, we were ready to depart on your journey. But wait.... There were two other small problems. First Mr. Gunawardena had not informed Mr. deAlwis, not a regular employee, that he would be making a 320 km round trip, lasting the entire day an into the evening. Second, Mr. deAlwis had no funds to purchase petrol (gasoline) for the vehicle or meals for his journey. A triangular mobile phone conversation in English and Sinhala between Mr. Gunawardena, Mr. DeAlwis and myself, as we drove through Colombo’s chaotic mid-day traffic, ensued. This was futher complicated by a third very small problem - Mr. DeAlwis’ mobile phone ran out of minutes in the middle of our conversation and we had to switch to a back up. Mr. Gunawardena of Reliable Tours apologized for the miscommunication between himself and Mr. DeAlwis. He would provide the funds immediately except that... there was a fourth small problem. He was not in Colombo. He would have to drive through heavy traffic to a rendezvous - estimated (unrealistic) waiting time for us while he completed the journey, about 30 minutes. Fortunately I was carrying sufficient emergency cash - a routine practice - so that I could cover the costs of Mr. DeAlwis’ return trip and pay for his lunch and dinner. Further negotiations with Mr. Gunawardena remain, however I believe that in the end, I will recover the funds.

The conversation between Mr. DeAlwis, a most polite and congenial young man, (especially considering the unanticipated agenda for his day) was limited, however he did share some information about the circumstances of his employment. He was not an employee of Mr. Gunawardena but of a “middle man” who owned the car with the rasping braks. The car owner contracted with Mr. Gunawardena who contracted with me. Mr. DeAlewis compensation was “15%” which I assumed would be 15% of the gross amount that Mr. Gunawardena had received from me 12,500 Sri Lankan Rupees. Estimating (from the funds I provided Mr. deAlwis) that the petrol costs for the trip were Rs 4,000, this left Rs. 8,500 to be divided between Mr. Gunawardena, Mr. deAlwis’s employer, and Mr. deAlwis. I am assuming, then, that Mr. deAlwis received approximately Rs 1250 (roughly $11.00) for a day of work than began at 7 AM and would end at about 9 PM - about 14 hours - an hourly rate of roughly $.80 US per hour.

In the end, our journey was a pleasant one marred only by nagging concerns that the rasping brakes might fail completely - they did not. The five small problems we encountered were easily resolved with patience and relative good humour. Parts of the journey, along Sri Lanka’s southwest coast road, were quite beautiful. We arrived safely and - hopefully - Mr. deAlwis returned to his new wife of only six months safe, sound and not too late in the evening.

Sri Lanka diary #1. My fruitless attempts to arrange mobile internet service

Sunday July 11,

Even for a frequent visitor, adjusting to Sri Lanka’s different rhythms and culture of efficiency does not happen at once. When we disembarked from the plane and walked down the corridor to the arrivals hall, we were greeted by a succession of six foot high posters advertising the “Luxury Train Service to Colombo.” The journey would take only half an hour. Tickets would be available at the counter in the arrivals lounge.

Before passport control, there was a new “Information Desk” staffed by three attractive young women. I stopped to express my delight about the new service, the early fulfillment of a promise in President Mahinda Rajapaksa’s election manifesto, The Mahinda Chintana (sayings of Mahinda). The women looked puzzled when I asked for details. They seemed unfamiliar with the new service or even that it had been announced. Presently, they told me, there was only one train, which departed at 7AM ach morning. It was not clear the posters were announcing future service, rather than service presently available, but that was the case. I could find no counter with information about luxury train service in the Arrivals Lounge.

However I was pleased to see that there was a counter advertising plug in mobile internet service. I was hoping this would be available, enabling me to avoid the predatory pricing that the AT&T iPhone monopoly imposes on international travelers. Thanks to AT&T, I must already carry a separate mobile phone when traveling internationally, in order to receive reasonably priced service from a local carrier, however iPhone internet connectivity in Singapore, while expensive, is priced reasonably enough that I avoid a separate PDA. I only have to carry a separate cell phone. Not so in Sri Lanka. My carrier in Sri Lanka, Dialog GSM had a reasonably priced contract and I gladly signed up. ...But to be certain before leaving the counter, I decided to check out the service on my computer. It didn’t work, perhaps because my computer is a MacIntosh - they are rarely used in Sri Lanka - who knows? On my last trip I had borrowed a plug in from a friend and used it without difficulty. After working for an hour with the Dialog GSM technician/salesperson we had to give up. I was going to be late to a dinner party at which I was the guest of honor. The technician suggested that I try the Dialog GSM main office in Colombo in the morning where expert assistance would be available.

The next morning I did try. After a brief wait, I sat across from the technician who was to help me - but he had no help to offer. After I explained my problem he told me that neither he or anyone and the Dialog GSM main office knew anything about MacIntosh computers. His suggestion was that I drive across town to another office where assistance for Apple computers might be available. Then he might be able to sell me the service. What struck me most about our exchange was his apparent indifference to whether or not I received the service his company was in business to provide. I like to think he may have been exception among Dialog GSM Sri Lanka employees. His colleague at the airport, under far more stressful conditions, with other customers waiting, made a good faith effort to help.

Dialog GSM’s competitor, Mobitel, was worse. In the hope that they might offer software more compatible with MacIntosh I walked down the street to their office, which, upon entering seemed depressingly down at the heels. Like Dialog GSM, the office had a “customer service” desk and several technicians in cubicles. The customer service desk was unmanned. I stood there for several minutes, thinking the responsible staff member might have stepped out to the rest room or for a tea break. No one came. Finally I decided that AT&T’s preditor-priced monopoly iPod service for international travelers was my only Sri Lankan option, at least for this trip. Using email frugally and eating the exorbitant costs incurred would be my only option.

Practicing compassion

Is altruistic compassion something that can - indeed must - be learned - and mastered - through regular, disciplined practice? Thus, is it analogous to the discipline required to become a world class musician, athlete, chess player or scientist?

As regular dormgrandpop readers know, I listen regularly to podcasts of the US National Public Radio program, Speaking of Faith. To be fully absorbed, many of them merit several listenings.

One of my favorites is host Krista Tippett’s interview with Buddhist monk and spiritual teacher Matthieu Ricard. Ricard grew up in a prominent and intellectually brilliant family, the son of French philosopher Jean-Francois Revel and artist Yahne Le Toumlin. He earned a Ph.D. in cell genetics at the Pasteur Institute studying under a Nobel Laureate. But during his studies his imagination was captured by images of Buddhist spritual teachers in a documentary, The Impressionable Faces of Buddhist Silence, a friend was editing. Later, he reflected:

‘I had the impression of seeing living beings who were the very image of what they taught. They had such a striking and remarkable feeling about them. I couldn’t quite hit on the explicit reasons why, but what struck me most was that they matched the ideal of sainthood, the perfect being, the sage — a kind of person hardly to be found nowadays in the West. It was the image I had of St. Francis of Assisi, or the great wise men of ancient times, but which for me had become figures of the distant past. You can’t go meet Socrates, listen to Plato debating, or sit at St. Francis’ feet. Yet suddenly, here were beings who seemed to be living examples of wisdom. I said to myself, ‘If it’s possible to reach perfection as a human being, that must be it.’

The images contrasted with how he experienced some of the world renowned intellectuals who gathered for conversation at his family home. While they were brilliant, he observed, they did not necessarily seem to be very happy, contented or compassionate. Their teachings and their beings often were at odds with one another. This contrast lead to successive visits to Nepal, and, eventually, the decision to forgo his promising scientific career and pursue a life of Buddhist spiritual practice.

This brief biographical introduction provides context for just one of Ricard’s observations, suggested by the title of this posting. Its source is experimental results from research on the relationship between neuropsychology and Buddhist psychology. The research has been motivated by discussions between leading western psychologists and Buddhist spiritual teachers at the periodic “Mind and Life” conferences held under the Dalai Llama’s auspices.

Not long ago, neuropsychologists believed that there were few changes in the brain structure after adolescence. But recent work in a subfield known as neuroplasticity has refuted this belief. New electronic brain scanning techniques have made this work possible. For a longer period, scientists have been able to associate different parts of the brain’s physiology with different psychic and psychomotor functions. The more recent findings demonstrate that disciplined practice changes the brain’s neurophysiological structure. For example London taxi drivers, who must memorize names and locations of 20,000 streets have brains in which areas dealing with spatial relations are more fully developed. Violin virtuosos have more fully developed brain areas that link sounds, symbols and finger dexterity - and so forth.

These findings have lead neuropsychologists to perform studies on Buddhist monks who, like violinists, chess players and London Taxi drivers, have devoted thousands of hours to their craft, meditative practice, with major priority given to cultivating altruistic compassion. Ricard, who has logged more than 60,000 hours of meditative practice, participated in these studies. He was uniquely qualified to participate as scientist, Buddhist psychologist and subject. The results were similar to those from studies of other master practitioners. The neurophysiology of experienced spiritual practitioners showed greatly enhanced development of brain areas having to do with altruistic compassion and happiness. Indeed based on Ricard’s brain scans, while meditating, one neuropsychologist friend dubbed him “the happiest man in the world.” Not surprisingly, Ricard immediately distanced himself from this ‘honor,’ describing it as a misleading oversimplification that would detract from an important area of scientific research.

But he points to one finding of the research that does offer important practical lessons. He asks, if we believe that compassion is an important value, why do we believe that it can be cultivated in a few minutes each week, or month. Why would it not require - and deserve - disciplined endeavor similar to the practice of violinists, chess masters and London Taxi drivers?

There is a sad corollary Ricard does not mention, but that must certainly be true as well. If we regularly cultivate - and practice - anger, hatred, envy and resentment, that, too, will alter our brain’s neurophysiology, in addition to impacting the other human beings whose misfortune it is to cross our path.