Walking Into The Landscape

I've been fascinated with trends in computing and futurism ever since I was a little kid.  In the late 1960's, I got hooked on ideas postulated in science-fiction, particularly in hard science-fiction (where science was extrapolated as far as possible to project possible futures, as opposed to just giving in to pure fantasy).

Conventional ideas from science-fiction such as faster-than-light travel, time-travel, and immortality are just a few of many fantastic goals that, while not likely to be realized ever, drive real-world innovations.  They've certainly had impacts on my careers and side-projects over the last quarter century.  As one friend once told me a long time ago, "You're always shooting for the moon, and even if you never get there, you always seem to make it to the next mountain along the way."

Some ideas, however, seemed almost to be within reach (certainly within my lifetime), and as I've gotten older, I've never lost the sense of wonder that comes at the special moment when an idea that seemed to be an impossible element of fiction, became reality.

In particular, I've been fascinated with advances in computation, particular as applied to creativity.

If you're my age or older, then you know the old-fart stories we're telling the younger generations about the history of computers: "When I was your age, computers were as big as cities and only did arithmetic!" (etc, etc).

If you're in college (or earlier in your schooling) then you're rolling your eyes and about to wipe this page from your smartphone to queue up another song on Pandora or iTunes.  Give me another minute before you go Gangnam Style for the umptieth time.

The specific fascination and wonder I'm speaking of is something I dreamed about decades ago, that only now am I able to realize from both a technology and economic perspective.  My first real training and passion wasn't in the sciences, but was in the arts.  Music performance and composition were a big part of my early life, and I also was captivated by visual arts, especially the very beginnings of computer graphics.   There have been many symphonies locked in my head since I was young that I've wanted to pull out and hear, but I've had no orchestra.  There have been many landscapes and vistas in my head that I've wanted to paint, but my stick-figure drawing skills have never not up to the challenge.

Many years ago, one of the most powerful ideas I ever heard was that, "someday, artists could take what was in their minds, and immediately share it without depending on canvas, or the ability to paint or draw".  A similar idea was just as inspiring to me where music was concerned.  Over the years, innovations in computer science, systems, and software have bridged gaps in connecting human creativity to expression. The costs and barriers to entry have become insignificant (in some cases, free open-software platforms are being used create incredible cinematic experiences).  I am certainly not leading the pack when it comes to unleashing the "artist within", but the fact that within my lifetime, something that was only the stuff of novels and screenplays has become commonplace is still a wonder.

After many years of charting, designing and building innovation landscapes, it's nice to be able to start exploring a little bit of that terrain.

Samurai Innovator

Everything I've every learned and practiced about innovation, can be boiled down to the following:

1. Think of what is right and true
2. Practice and cultivate science
3. Become acquainted with the arts
4. Know the principles of craft
5. Understand the harm and benefit in everything
6. Learn to see everything accurately
7. Become aware of what is not obvious
8. Be careful even in the smallest of matters
9. Do not do anything useless.

 

(From 'The Book of Five Rings' - Miyamoto Musashi, 1643)

Freedom to Operate

"Good things come to those who wait."

Wikipedia tells us that the above phrase "extolls the virtue of human patience", and has been a central theme of several notable marketing campaigns in the late 20th century, including Guinness stout, and Heinz ketchup.

I've been absent from my blog for a little over a year if you go by the date of my last publication, but it's been closer to three years if you want to consider how long it's been since I was writing here regularly.

The what, where, and why of the extended idea embargo are not important, other than perhaps to compare it by analogy to a classic challenge many innovation practitioners face in the (patent) prosecution of their ideas: obtaining the freedom to operate.  Often times, an idea may be blocked from practice by opposing logistical claims which serve to create barriers to innovation.  Such barriers, however, are seldom permanent.

I'm looking forward to resuming an exchange of thoughts on a wide array of topics and culture you came to expect in the past, as well as new areas that might surprise you. 

For those of you who have been patiently waiting, I thank you, and hope to be able to offer you food for thought that is as least as nutritious as tomato extract and beer.

The Creativity of Evolution

I know what you're thinking.

He's stepping into dangerous territory now. After years of telling us how from his training and experience in the sciences that innovation is driven through evolutionary and revolutionary paths, Jim's going to weigh in on the greatest debate of all: Where did we come from? How did we get here? Who or what is responsible it all?

I can summarize the answer to your thoughts in two words: Advertising Agencies

(more on that later...)


Today's posting really gets back to what this blog is about. It's a place where I like to chronicle ideas, events, and things that capture my attention. A lot of times it involves my professional interests, and sometimes it reflects something more personal. On rare occasions, I come across something really unique that blends interests and ideas from both sides, and today, I want to share something I stumbled across the other day that fits in that category.

I focus an extraordinary amount of each work day thinking with my clients about evolutions of systems of all kinds (mechanical, electronic, biological, thermodynamic, the list of systems is open-ended). How machines are put together, how and why they function, and how they can be improved are my bread and butter. I also have a passion for the arts, especially fantastic art - visions of possible futures and pasts as realized in oils, watercolors, computer graphics, wood, metal, television, film, stage, and just about any medium for creative expression.

The word "evolution" of course has a sociological context, and immediately conjures up images of primordial soup, dinosaurs, primates and humans engaged in a battle against time and the elements. Each organism is locked in mortal combat, striving to survive, and (consciously or not) is trying to better itself for the promise of an unknown future. Imagine then, my reaction to this advertisement for Saturn Consumer Electronics I recently came across from the Scholz & Friends Group. Is this robotic evolution, or Deus Ex Machina?




Within a few minutes of seeing this ad, I happened to stumble across another which addressed a similar theme, but where the evolutionary flow of time was reversed.

It also happened to feature another one of my..ummm...passions.




This advertisement, created by Abbott Mead Vickers BBDO, won a top award at Cannes in 2006. I'm sure my colleagues in Great Britain will recall it, but I think I can safely say it never aired during the Super Bowl, or else Budweiser would have suffered record losses that year.

So, you see? I really wasn't going to unleash a charged debate on the origin of humanity. Evolution can co-exist with all kinds of design. Pre-determinism and free-will can find balance in the universe.


Now, where did I put my remote?

Fail Whale at 36,000 Feet (or: Oh No, Not Again)

It's not often that life imitates Rod Serling and Douglas Adams simultaneously.

I'm currently 36,000 feet over Colorado, flying on the new Virgin America route between Boston and Los Angeles. Ever since America West's acquisition of US Airways, coast-to-coast travel has not been one of my favorite activities. When Sir Richard Branson entered the United States' ailing commercial airlines market, there was a glimmer of hope that something new might be on the horizon.

Today's flight offers coast-to-coast Wi-Fi service. How cool is that?

Now I find myself ever closer to working "anytime, anywhere" as I can spend the majority of a 6-hour flight connected to the virtual world. I can keep up on my e-mail. I can hold web-conferences with clients and pass critical issues to home office as they happen.

I can update my blog. I can tweet. Wait, I just saw something. Did I just see in my window what I thought I saw?

I need to summon the stewardess, err, flight attendant (he gets paid less). Come quickly, it's out on the wing!



It's gone. But I know I saw something. Maybe I'm just tired. I should get back to updating my tweets. Here's a neat article on Wolfram Alpha that I saw, let me post the link. I just sent the tweet..wait..nothing's happening...now my window is going blank..wait..there it is again! Now I can't do anything...tell the captain - the creature's tampering with the knowledge engine!



Twitter's "fail whale" is a familiar but random creature that up until this morning, I only saw on land. Now it's a recurring nightmare above 20,000 feet, and yet, it seems to be missing something, like a bowl of petunias. I know I've seen these two together somewhere before. Maybe it's an iPhone app.



I've spent most of my career keeping up with and driving technical innovations. Once in a while, however, the benefits we gain come with extremely ironic coincidences. I'll research ways of coping. Maybe Google or Facebook has something. Nope. Let's check the Twitterverse again. Wait a minute...there it is again!!



Flight Attendant: "Can I help you, sir?"

Yes...a glass of water.

Wintry Potpourri

The deepest aspect of this article is likely to be the seven inches of snow that's fallen outside my window. A typical New England storm has moved through to make room for an even larger storm later this weekend. The roads are nearly impassable, but as a familiar song of the season slurs (at least Dean's rendition of it), I've really no place to go.

A lot of topics that I'd would have liked to write about here have surfaced since I talked turkey last month. However, I find that as the end of this year approaches, I want to clear the decks to make room for what's to come in 2009. So I thought I'd take a break from writing a larger article, and instead share some brief insights on things that have caught my attention over the last few weeks.


Innovating In A Recession

It is probably safe to say that 2008 has been a recessionary year for most, and 2009 promises to be even more challenging. During the Great Depression, a few companies managed to thrive. Their secret was simple. They identified ways to create and deliver value.

Chuck Frey of InnovationTools and Renee Hopkins Callahan of Innosight recently contacted a diverse collection of innovation experts and practitioners to learn more about the strategies they recommend for maintaining innovation during these challenging times. I was surprised and honored that an excerpt from one of my recent articles here at Thirty Minutes From Andromeda was included in their report, "Innovation Strategies for the Global Recession". My colleague Jim Todhunter, over at Innovating to Win, was also included in this report.


Recent Passings

Innovation is a technical and creative form of expression, usually a longing for something better, often of a goal that seems unattainable. I have found that for some of the most inventive minds, science-fiction has been an early source of inspiration, creating dreamers that transform into doers. It personally has played a role in my own career paths. So it is with sadness that I note the passing of two important figures in 20th century science-fiction.

Majel Barrett Roddenberry passed away this week from complications of leukemia. She was well known as the "first lady of Star Trek", having been involved with every production of the most recognized franchise in genre entertainment. Recently, she just finished voicing her familiar role as the computer of the famed U.S.S. Enterprise in J.J. Abrams' blockbuster restart of the franchise, due in theaters next May.

Forrest J. Ackerman (Uncle Forry, to those of us who knew him) was one of First Fandom's beloved members. He was responsible for coining the phrase "sci-fi" as a pun on the popular "Hi-Fi" home entertainment center in the 1950's. He discovered and represented giants of the genre including Ray Bradbury. Long before the commodity of social media, Forry published magazines and books that helped connect hundreds of thousands of fans and professionals in their love of the future, the fantastic, and the unknown. He was also one of the kindest and biggest hearts that you could ever meet. I was personally very fortunate come to know him through the 1990's, and last saw him in 2006 in Los Angeles. Forry's passing represents the end of an era, but not the end of his influence.


Notable Blogs

I started this blog as an experiment. One thing I learned very quickly is that there are more bloggers in the world with more talent than I could ever hope to have (or keep up with) who have some very thought provoking things to say. Recently, I've recently discovered several blogs which appeal to my professional and ecclectic interests that are very much worth sharing. I encourage you to check them out.

• Lateral Action - Thought proking articles on creativity, productivity, problem solving and innovation.
  
• Zero Punctuation - While technically not a blog, this video website contains the most essential element of electronic game review: a misanthropic British pop-culture slave displaced to Australia with an unnaturally developed sense of abuse and sarcasm, and command of the $#%&ing English language.
  
• The Market Ticker - I follow a fair number of economic and financial blogs as best I can (certainly not enough as I should). Karl Denninger pulls no punches and doesn't waffle around when it comes to looking at the macro-economic catastrophe we are in, and all of its consequences.

I'll be returning to writing more focused articles shortly, including: the conclusion of my "Why Johnny Can't Innovate" series; a recommended reading list for 2009; and some new insights into the innovation initiatives of the Obama administration.

$25 Billion - A Simple Business Plan

This is one of those moments where life and art have a strange intersection.

The recent plea for $25 billion of taxpayer-backed loans by the CEOs of the big three auto firms has Congress asking a very practical question:

"What plan do you have for spending $25 billion?"

Back in March of 1939, General Motors' Department of Public Relations commissioned the Jam Handy Organization to produce a short film on the subject of macroeconomics.

Maybe GM's future is in widgets?

Back In The Future

I’m leaving on vacation this week to spend time in interests outside of, but synergistic with my day job. I’ll be in Colorado, taking in the sights, sounds, and steers. (One of my all time favorite steak houses anywhere in North America is just outside of Denver. They bring an unsurpassed passion to what they do. You know a steak house is passionate when they burn down to ground one night during dinner, and rebuild. Twice.)

I’m going to be displaying some of my artwork at an exhibit that focuses on science fiction art. Being a facilitator of innovation in new technologies across many fields of science, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that I’ve always had a fascination with the future. Space travel, ray guns, immortality – they were the standard fare of many children like myself who were slaves to late 1960’s pop-culture. We were the first generation to be truly sucked in by television (and even saw colors on occasion). We let our brains get rotted by degenerate media executives who tried to convince us that technology was cool, science was empowering, and commanding starships was a great way to impress babes.

Forty something years later, I’m still waiting for my starship, but I did pretty well taking some of the other lessons to heart (and leaving one of them back in the ‘60s). Along the way, I‘ve crossed paths with many inspirational people. I’ve discussed the physics of tachyons with Isaac Asimov, the snows of Mars with Arthur C. Clarke, and the ethics of nuclear energy with Carl Sagan, to name just a few who have fueled my interest in the future.

I’ve also had a passionate interest in visualizing the future. Wizards of the silver and small screens (including The Wizard Of Speed And Time) have been lifelong personal influences and sources of inspiration. With advances and steep price drops in computer technologies (both hardware and software) I’ve been able to find a medium beyond the limits of my stick figure talents to try my hand at creative visualization. I’d like to share a few of my works (some of which will be on display next week in Denver), and the back stories behind them. (You can see larger versions of these images by clicking on them.)

"Maybe It Needs A Little Love"


Being smack in the middle of the 2007 holiday season, I found myself asking, "What if Charlie Brown went looking for a Christmas tree offworld?", and after a while, this was the result. This was actually the first image I produced with one of two 3D visualization packages I had purchased earlier that year.


"Phobos - 1912"


A "rare" surviving photograph from a failed, top-secret terraforming project (circa 1912) on Phobos, using polar ice from neighboring Mars to flood portions of the surface. There's probably a half dozen influences in this image including tips of the hat to Torchwood, The X-Files, and just about anyone who's imagined space flight with a V2-styled retro rocket. I learned a lot putting this image together, both about the tools I'm using, and in composition.


"Here For The View"


Break out your red and blue 3D glasses. This is a 3D anaglyph study of a flying saucer. I designed it in the simplest (i.e. cheapest) way possible, the way a model maker on a 1950's budget B movie might have built it (yes, its a ball inside a doughnut). Some of the reflections were particularly fun to incorporate, both on the edge of the saucer, and the multiple reflections in the dome. If you click on the image and view the larger size with 3D glasses, you can definitely see the saucer "pop" over the mountain range and the ocean. There are three perspectives I wanted to bring out in this piece - it was definitely a lot of fun (and took a ribbon at a recent showing in New York).

A Mighty Wind

T. Boone Pickens is a Texas oilman by his own definition. He's also one of the most accurate and insightful energy analysts I've seen in the last decade, and I have a lot of respect for his opinions about the energy markets.

Yesterday I happened to catch him early in the morning on CNBC. He was launching a self-funded campaign to any and all interested parties (political, commercial, academic) to propose a plan to shift the United States' disasterous dependence on external energy sources to those that are domestically produced and freely available, including an enormous abundance of wind.

Here are the plan's highlights in his own words:



How did we get here? There are plenty of financial and economic models, theories, and blogs which can argue the answers to this question. I would suggest that supply and demand ultimately play the biggest roles, and in particular, it is the demand side which is least understood by most people. It isn't just the rise in demand by energy consumers in developing nations such as India and China. Demand has skyrocketed through the creation of derivative financial vehicles such as exchange-traded funds (ETFs), and options markets that enable large pools of money such as retirement funds (like the ones you likely have at work) to bid up the price of oil without even realizing it.

In other words, if you walk to work, take the stairs, and let your 401K be managed by companies that deal in hedge funds, you're probably jeopardizing the planet. Think about it.

Pickens' plan has some fascinating implications for the future. If realized, it could mean the revitalization of the American midwest. Skilled labor will be needed to build, maintain and replace turbines. Support businesses and communities will develop around windfarms in an almost symbiotic relationship between people and the machines that sustain them (a theme not foreign to many science fiction stories of the last century, and likely an accurate prediction of the near future).

Unlike oil fields that have a definitive lifecycle of about 30 years, wind farms lend themselves to a continual lifecycle and sustainable innovation. The technical and logistical problems ahead (beyond the establishment of multiple wind farms) represent an opportunity for science and engineering advancements on a scale we haven't seen since the Apollo program. The potential for commercially developed (and green) innovations in turbine design, power transmission, and battery technologies (to name just a few) are incredible. (BTW, not too far outside the proposed wind belt is a solar belt which is equally exciting for its innovation potential.)

This is a plan worth considering.

There are some humorous ironies that I can't help noting. In Picken's own words yesterday, "we all have to get on the same team". When we consider who might be on that team, we might consider Larry Hagman, best known for his role on the tv series Dallas as oil-baron J.R. Ewing, who has converted his entire California estate to solar and alternative power. We might also consider actor and environmental activist Ed Begley, Jr., who has made similar conversions to his home. One of Mr. Begley's roles was a bit part in the film "A Mighty Wind", which was a mockumentary about the folk music movement of the 1960's. The title song from the film refers to a mighty wind as "blowin' peace and freedom..blowin' equality".



How life imitates art sometimes.

Ideas of Futures (Passed)

I'd like to take a brief interlude from my recent articles on innovation, and indulge in something a bit more personal.

As much as I enjoy connecting with the challenges of defining the future, I really appreciate looking at futures past, or more aptly, those that were passed over. I especially am drawn to creative expressions of what technologies and society might have looked like, but never saw the light of day except as some tangential form of entertainment.

A blog I discovered about a year ago truly fascinates me. It's called Paleo Future, and it is perhaps one of the most unique collections of past (and passed) visions of the future that I've seen. A recent article particularly caught my eye, and included a slide show that was being developed for a girl geek dinner. There is another slide show in the article itself, but the one that caught my eye the most is shown below.

| View | Upload your own

It takes so many ideas from creative people and processes to acheive the breakthroughs that future generations enjoy as everyday amentities. We tend to forget ideas that didn't quite make it (and rapidly lose touch with the fact that they were once created).

Recently, one of my favorite forgotten ideas surfaced over at Damn Interesting. One of Ford's answers to the '57 Chevy was a design concept that was never prototyped - the 1957 Ford Nucleon. An elite team of Ford's engineers were asked to look far into the future, and dreamed of a world without fossil fuels or harmful vapors. The Ford Nucleon would have used a steam turbine to drive both torque propulsion and electric generators that would satisfy all of the automoting customer's needs. This wonderous vision of the future was powered by a pint-sized nuclear reactor in the trunk. It gave a different meaning to "green" transportation.

The future is built on creativity and the freedom to fail, as well as succeed. Governments, academic institutions and industry giants have recognized and succeeded on this principle of human nature. As important as it is to be reminded of examples of where our creativity will take us (such as the Futurama exhibit at the 1939 World's Fair), visions of past inventive creativity (successful and otherwise) should not be far removed from anyone's innovation toolkit.

Advice For A Valedictorian

So, after all these years, here you are.

All the homework is done, all the tests are taken, all the grades are in. You've done your chores and eaten your vegetables. You've survived the experience of living with your parents and your brothers. You've beaten everyone's expectations (except perhaps your own).

You've won.

You're about to take the podium tomorrow as valedictorian of your graduating prep school class, before heading off to University with full scholarship and chancellor's awards.

I, and many others who have come to know you are extemely proud of you.

The speech you give tomorrow (and possibly still have to write tonight) will likely contain observations of the past, acknowledgement of the present, and intelligent guesswork about the future. Your future from this point forward is your own to define, constrained only by the world around you (admittedly, that's an awfully big constraint). Having had the great fortune to know you since before you were born, I'd like to offer some totally unsolicited advice as you leave one contest behind, and move on to the next.

This picture has been making its way around the internet in the past few days. It's an image of the Mars Phoenix Lander on its way down to the surface of Mars. (You can just make out the lander at the bottom of the image, the tether lines in the middle, and the parachutes at the top. NASA has since released a cleaner image.) The image was taken by the Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter circling high above Mars, sent to Mars well in advance of the Phoenix probe.

The implications of this image in technological and human terms are staggering. Thousands of people contributed significant portions of their lives to the moment this image was taken. Exactly none of them knew at the time they graduated high school that they would be part of something so unique. However, they likely followed guidelines, codes, rules and something more important than lucky numbers to get to this point.

I'd like to offer you one piece of advice as you step forward to do all the wonderful things you're going to in your life, and have no idea what they are at the moment.

Discover, and follow your passions. It's okay to have more than one, and later on in life, it'll be okay to move between them (or to new choices and career paths), but it is essential that you develop an idea of what you really like. That, is a very different question to answer than the typical "what do you want to do?" question which your peers and collegiate advisors will ask of you.

You're at a time right now (and for the next few years) where literally the world is at your feet. You have the opportunity to explore science, art, literature, theater, music, history, language, romance, and so much more at an intensity that only comes but a few times in many people's lives. The next four years are not just about facts, figures and grades. You've got a chance to discover your own sense of wonder. You're going to meet people at all stages of life: young, middle-aged, and elderly who will inspire you.

Leaders in all fields of study will come to speak at your University. Seek them out and listen to them. Challenge them with questions, and if you find you have none, ask yourself why (it's not a bad thing!).

Politcal movements (and their leaders) will stage events (protests) at your University. Avoid the urge to scoff, but beware the call to participate before examining all sides of current issues and events. The next four years are quite likely to be filled with worsening economic and socio-politcal trends. Learn, and act, with caution and your own intent - not someone else's.

Lastly, don't rush the next four years. They will fly by faster than the last 100 days. Take the advantage of learning from everything you can - not just at the University, but in town, at the surrounding colleges (some offer courses with inter-college credits), music halls, museums, and even the chances for travel. In my own youth, one of the most amazing learning experiences I ever had was seeing a special on PBS about Harold Edgerton, and on a whim, spending my last $17 to take a bus to Boston, head over to MIT and show up on his doorstep on a Saturday, to find him there, and get a completely private 3-hour tour of his lab, and his life experiences that went far beyond the documentary. That experience wasn't part of my course curricula. I still carry his lessons with me to this day.

Make the next four years your own.


When you're done, go forward and change the world.

The Art of (Spinning) War

I'm on vacation for a few days, and this evening I was at my local Borders Bookstore, browsing the bookshelves and working on an upcoming article about barriers to innovation.

I'm extremely interested in early and mid-20th century graphic design, illustration, and propaganda of technology and industrial society. Long before the advent of global communications networks, blogs, and limitless viewpoints of any human event, pictures were truly the most efficient form of communication. They had to be worth a thousand words or more to get their points across. During times of conflict, posters were critical tools of governments (and their opposition) to communicate social, political, and cultural arguements using iconic imagery and visual metaphor to sway the opinions of millions.

The Imperial War Museum in London has recently opened an exhibit of war posters spanning nearly 90 years. "Weapons of Mass Communication" showcases one of the finest collections of coercive art in the world. (The exhibition runs through March of 2008.) While browsing the art history section at Borders, I spotted the book of the exhibition which features over 300 of the posters and many of their back stories. I have been unable to put this book down.

James Aulich, of the Manchester Institute for Research and Innovation in Art and Design, has assembled in this book, an incredible collection of war poster art. His research and commentary detail the battles waged for the hearts and minds of World War I, Interwar Europe, World War II, the Cold War and contemporary generations upto and including the current Iraq conflict.

One of the images from the exhibit is particularly striking. In 1917, Henri Montassier created this image for a proclaimation that France had "discovered the machine to end the war". The imagery depicts the scale of casualties already suffered which weighed heavily on many nations of Europe. The machine imagery is not a vision of contemporary armaments, but is instead akin to the Martian war machines described in H.G. Wells' The War of the Worlds, published only 20 years prior.

If you have an opportunity to see the exhibit first hand, or spend an afternoon with the book, I would highly recommend it. Whether your appreciation is for vintage art styles and techniques of eras gone by, or looking through a window in time on a variety of societal levels, I think you'll find the experience rather captivating.