In this blog, teachers, students and all those who have some kind of interest in the English language will find useful, interesting, curious and funny things to be used in their classes or for their personal enjoyment.
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10 tips for landing more freelance writing projects
By Susan Harkins
March 7, 2012
Takeaway: Freelance writing can provide a nice source of income if you go about it the right way. Susan Harkins shares a few tricks of the trade.
Freelance writing is a great way to share your expertise and to earn a little extra money. Making a career of it, or at least, expanding to the point where writing generates a dependable source of income, requires that you publish lots of new content every month. But there’s more to freelance writing than writing; you must aggressively work the business side. These tips will help writers of all ilk, but they’re aimed at technical writers, who have a bit of an edge over the creative types in this area if they can speak with authority on a specific subject.
1: Ask for work; ask for more work
Freelance writing is a business, and you need customers for your product. That means you must query editors often; you can’t get new work if you don’t ask. To write queries that editors notice, keep the following in mind:
• Introduce yourself and share article ideas that match the publisher’s focus.
• Check the editorial calendar and make suggestions that fill their needs if possible. (Many technical publishers don’t produce editorial calendars.)
• Keep your queries concise.
When you complete an assignment with a new editor, send a short thank you note and let them know you’re available for more work. If you have an established relationship with an editor, ask for more work — stay on their radar.
2: Be familiar with the publisher’s needs
Before querying a new publisher, spend some time reading their product. If you’re familiar with their product, you won’t waste time suggesting topics they’ve recently covered and you can fine-tune your expertise to match their audience. When possible, mention a current or previous article or author to demonstrate your familiarity with their product. For instance, to pitch an advanced article on SQL transaction logs, you might say, “My article on SQL transaction logs picks up where ‘SQL Logs, use them or lose them’ ends.” Of course, this won’t always be possible, but keep your eye open for these opportunities. Writing a great article or book isn’t enough; fulfilling an editor’s needs will get you published.
3: Innovate
After studying a potential publication, you might decide that your expertise isn’t a good match for their audience — but you might be wrong. Try to find something in common between their audience and your expertise and wait for inspiration. You may think of a unique way to introduce your expertise that the editors might appreciate. Innovation drives the technical industry, why not your technical writing?
4: Keep editors happy
A one-time gig is better than no gig, but recurring assignments are better! That means keeping editors happy. Fortunately, that it isn’t hard:
• Write the article the editor expects. If you feel the need to stray from the original scope, discuss it with the editor first.
• Submit articles in the required format; apply their styles and template (if provided). If there’s no template, keep formatting to a minimum.
• Submit graphics in the required format.
• Submit articles on time. If the worst happens, and you can’t meet a deadline, let the editor know as soon as possible.
• Always be ready to make editorial changes. You might have the technical expertise, but the editor knows the audience. You do your job and let the editors do theirs.
When you fulfill your promises, editors are more inclined to assign you more work.
5: Let editors know you’re open to their ideas
Editors will expect you to pitch your ideas when querying them. They want you to! However, it’s a good idea to let them know that you’re available to write about other topics. Tell them you’d be glad to consider their ideas. Be sure potential and current editors know that you’re available to tackle subjects you haven’t personally suggested.
6: Don’t make promises you can’t keep
If an editor asks for an article that’s outside your expertise or if you can’t meet their deadline, don’t accept the assignment. Tell them why, suggest a compromise if you have one, and offer your future services for other assignments. Never make a promise you can’t keep. If you do, you will probably never get an opportunity to make amends.
7: Hang out with other writers
Writers are like restaurants — you can benefit from one another’s overflow. When you can’t accept an assignment, recommend someone who can. They might also do the same for you. Even if they never return the favor, the editor will probably remember your willingness to help. Editors are human beings too, and they remember a kindness the same way you do.
8: Query low-paying markets
We all want to make more money, but waiting for high-paying jobs might leave your bank account empty. Don’t be too proud to fill your free hours with lower-paying assignments. Generally, they’re much shorter, so they balance out nicely. Learn to write quickly, satisfy the specific goal of each piece, and churn out as many as you can fit into your schedule. You won’t write Pulitzer-winning content, but you will receive payment, and lots of small checks add up. Few writers, especially technical writers, make a reasonable living writing only a piece or two each month.
9: Ask for referrals
After completing an assignment, consider asking for a referral. Most technical editors work for large publishers and have a broad network of industry coworkers. By tapping into their network, you can expand your own. Moreover, a referral carries a recommendation, even if implicit — they won’t refer you if they’re not satisfied with your work.
10: Be seen!
Join forums, user groups, lists, and other social networks that support your technical expertise. Publicly offer free solutions and helpful advice. Give a presentation to a local user group. Create free and helpful how-to videos. Host a recurring chat. Create a Facebook page and publish free tips or other helpful resources. Join LinkedIn and keep your profile updated. Find something to tweet about often. Attend workshops and conferences. Go a step further and submit a presentation paper to a conference; they’re always looking for new voices. You don’t have to do all of these things, but do some of them. Get your name in front of users and editors.
The following information is used for educational purposes only.
Transcript:
You should be nice to nerds. In fact, I'd go so far as to say, if you don't already have a nerd in your life, you should get one. I'm just saying. Scientists and engineers change the world. I'd like to tell you about a magical place called DARPA where scientists and engineers defy the impossible and refuse to fear failure. Now these two ideas are connected more than you may realize, because when you remove the fear of failure, impossible things suddenly become possible.
If you want to know how, ask yourself this question: What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail? If you really ask yourself this question, you can't help but feel uncomfortable. I feel a little uncomfortable. Because when you ask it, you begin to understand how the fear of failure constrains you, how it keeps us from attempting great things, and life gets dull, amazing things stop happening. Sure, good things happen, but amazing things stop happening.
Now I should be clear, I'm not encouraging failure, I'm discouraging fear of failure. Because it's not failure itself that constrains us. The path to truly new, never-been-done-before things always has failure along the way. We're tested. And in part, that testing feels an appropriate part of achieving something great. Clemenceau said, "Life gets interesting when we fail, because it's a sign that we've surpassed ourselves."
In 1895, Lord Kelvin declared that heavier-than-air flying machines were impossible. In October of 1903, the prevailing opinion of expert aerodynamicists was that maybe in 10 million years we could build an aircraft that would fly. And two months later on December 17th, Orville Wright powered the first airplane across a beach in North Carolina. The flight lasted 12 seconds and covered 120 feet. That was 1903.
One year later, the next declarations of impossibilities began. Ferdinand Foch, a French army general credited with having one of the most original and subtle minds in the French army, said, "Airplanes are interesting toys, but of no military value." 40 years later, aero experts coined the term transonic. They debated, should it have one S or two? You see, they were having trouble in this flight regime, and it wasn't at all clear that we could fly faster than the speed of sound. In 1947, there was no wind tunnel data beyond Mach 0.85. And yet, on Tuesday, October 14th, 1947, Chuck Yeager climbed into the cockpit of his Bell X-1 and he flew towards an unknown possibility, and in so doing, he became the first pilot to fly faster than the speed of sound. Six of eight Atlas rockets blew up on the pad. After 11 complete mission failures, we got our first images from space. And on that first flight we got more data than in all U-2 missions combined. It took a lot of failures to get there.
Since we took to the sky, we have wanted to fly faster and farther. And to do so, we've had to believe in impossible things. And we've had to refuse to fear failure. That's still true today. Today, we don't talk about flying transonically, or even supersonically, we talk about flying hypersonically -- not Mach 2 or Mach 3, Mach 20. At Mach 20, we can fly from New York to Long Beach in 11 minutes and 20 seconds. At that speed, the surface of the airfoil is the temperature of molten steel -- 3,500 degrees Fahrenheit -- like a blast furnace. We are essentially burning the airfoil as we fly it. And we are flying it, or trying to.
DARPA's hypersonic test vehicle is the fastest maneuvering aircraft ever built. It's boosted to near-space atop a Minotaur IV rocket. Now the Minotaur IV has too much impulse, so we have to bleed it off by flying the rocket at an 89 degree angle of attack for portions of the trajectory. That's an unnatural act for a rocket. The third stage has a camera. We call it rocketcam. And it's pointed at the hypersonic glider. This is the actual rocketcam footage from flight one. Now to conceal the shape, we changed the aspect ratio a little bit. But this is what it looks like from the third stage of the rocket looking at the unmanned glider as it heads into the atmosphere back towards Earth.
We've flown twice. In the first flight, no aerodynamic control of the vehicle. But we collected more hypersonic flight data than in 30 years of ground-based testing combined. And in the second flight, three minutes of fully-controlled, aerodynamic flight at Mach 20. We must fly again, because amazing, never-been-done-before things require that you fly. You can't learn to fly at Mach 20 unless you fly. And while there's no substitute for speed, maneuverability is a very close second.
If a Mach 20 glider takes 11 minutes and 20 seconds to get from New York to Long Beach, a hummingbird would take, well, days. You see, hummingbirds are not hypersonic, but they are maneuverable. In fact, the hummingbird is the only bird that can fly backwards. It can fly up, down, forwards, backwards, even upside-down. And so if we wanted to fly in this room or places where humans can't go, we'd need an aircraft small enough and maneuverable enough to do so.
This is a hummingbird drone. It can fly in all directions, even backwards. It can hover and rotate. This prototype aircraft is equipped with a video camera. It weighs less than one AA battery. It does not eat nectar. In 2008, it flew for a whopping 20 seconds, a year later, two minutes, then six, eventually 11. Many prototypes crashed -- many. But there's no way to learn to fly like a hummingbird unless you fly. (Applause) It's beautiful, isn't it. Wow. It's great. Matt is the first ever hummingbird pilot. (Applause)
Failure is part of creating new and amazing things. We cannot both fear failure and make amazing new things -- like a robot with the stability of a dog on rough terrain, or maybe even ice; a robot that can run like a cheetah, or climb stairs like a human with the occasional clumsiness of a human. Or perhaps, Spider Man will one day be Gecko Man. A gecko can support its entire body weight with one toe. One square millimeter of a gecko's footpad has 14,000 hair-like structures called setae. They are used to help it grip to surfaces using intermolecular forces.
Today we can manufacture structures that mimic the hairs of a gecko's foot. The result, a four-by-four-inch artificial nano-gecko adhesive. can support a static load of 660 pounds. That's enough to stick six 42-inch plasma TV's to your wall, no nails. So much for Velcro, right?
And it's not just passive structures, it's entire machines. This is a spider mite. It's one millimeter long, but it looks like Godzilla next to these micromachines. In the world of Godzilla spider mites, we can make millions of mirrors, each one-fifth the diameter of a human hair, moving at hundreds of thousands of times per second to make large screen displays, so that we can watch movies like "Godzilla" in high-def.
And if we can build machines at that scale, what about Eiffel Tower-like trusses at the microscale? Today we are making metals that are lighter than Styrofoam, so light they can sit atop a dandelion puff and be blown away with a wisp of air -- so light that you can make a car that two people can lift, but so strong that it has the crash-worthiness of an SUV.
From the smallest wisp of air to the powerful forces of nature's storms. There are 44 lightning strikes per second around the globe. Each lightning bolt heats the air to 44,000 degrees Fahrenheit -- hotter than the surface of the Sun. What if we could use these electromagnetic pulses as beacons, beacons in a moving network of powerful transmitters? Experiments suggest that lightning could be the next GPS.
Electrical pulses form the thoughts in our brains. Using a grid the size of your thumb, with 32 electrodes on the surface of his brain, Tim uses his thoughts to control an advanced prosthetic arm. And his thoughts made him reach for Katie. This is the first time a human has controlled a robot with thought alone. And it is the first time that Tim has held Katie's hand in seven years. That moment mattered to Tim and Katie, and this green goo may someday matter to you. This green goo is perhaps the vaccine that could save your life. It was made in tobacco plants. Tobacco plants can make millions of doses of vaccine in weeks instead of months, and it might just be the first healthy use of tobacco ever.
And if it seems far-fetched that tobacco plants could make people healthy, what about gamers that could solve problems that experts can't solve? Last September, the gamers of Foldit solved the three-dimensional structure of the retroviral protease that contributes to AIDS in rhesus monkeys. Now understanding this structure is very important for developing treatments. For 15 years, it was unsolved in the scientific community. The gamers of Foldit solved it in 15 days. Now they were able to do so by working together. They were able to work together because they're connected by the Internet. And others, also connected to the Internet, used it as an instrument of democracy. And together they changed the fate of their nation.
The Internet is home to two billion people, or 30 percent of the world's population. It allows us to contribute and to be heard as individuals. It allows us to amplify our voices and our power as a group. But it too had humble beginnings. In 1969, the internet was but a dream, a few sketches on a piece of paper. And then on October 29th, the first packet-switched message was sent from UCLA to SRI. The first two letters of the word "Login," that's all that made it through -- an L and an O -- and then a buffer overflow crashed the system. (Laughter) Two letters, an L and an O, now a worldwide force.
So who are these scientists and engineers at a magical place called DARPA? They are nerds, and they are heroes among us. They challenge existing perspectives at the edges of science and under the most demanding of conditions. They remind us that we can change the world if we defy the impossible and we refuse to fear failure. They remind us that we all have nerd power. Sometimes we just forget.
You see, there was a time when you weren't afraid of failure, when you were a great artist or a great dancer and you could sing, you were good at math, you could build things, you were an astronaut, an adventurer, Jacques Cousteau, you could jump higher, run faster, kick harder than anyone. You believed in impossible things and you were fearless. You were totally and completely in touch with your inner superhero. Scientists and engineers can indeed change the world. So can you. You were born to. So go ahead, ask yourself, what would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?
Now I want to say, this is not easy. It's hard to hold onto this feeling, really hard. I guess in some way, I sort of believe it's supposed to be hard. Doubt and fear always creep in. We think someone else, someone smarter than us, someone more capable, someone with more resources will solve that problem. But there isn't anyone else; there's just you. And if we're lucky, in that moment, someone steps into that doubt and fear, takes a hand and says, "Let me help you believe."
Jason Harley did that for me. Jason started at DARPA on March 18th, 2010. He was with our transportation team. I saw Jason nearly every day, sometimes twice a day. And more so than most, he saw the highs and the lows, the celebrations and the disappointments. And on one particularly dark day for me, Jason sat down and he wrote an email. He was encouraging, but firm. And when he hit send, he probably didn't realize what a difference it would make. It mattered to me. In that moment and still today when I doubt, when I feel afraid, when I need to reconnect with that feeling, I remember his words, they were so powerful.
Text: "There is only time enough to iron your cape and back to the skies with you."
Voice: Because that's what being a superhero is all about.
RD: "There is only time enough to iron your cape and back to the skies for you." And remember, be nice to nerds. (Applause) Thank you. Thank you.
(Applause)
Chris Anderson: Regina, thank you. I have a couple of questions. So that glider of yours, the Mach 20 glider, the first one, no control, it ended up in the Pacific I think somewhere.
RD: Yeah, yeah. It did. (CA: What happened on that second flight?) Yeah, it also went into the Pacific. (CA: But this time under control?) We didn't fly it into the Pacific. No, there are multiple portions of the trajectory that are demanding in terms of really flying at that speed. And so in the second flight, we were able to get three minutes of fully aerodynamic control of the vehicle before we lost it.
CA: I imagine you're not planning to open up to passenger service from New York to Long Beach anytime soon.
RD: It might be a little warm.
CA: What do you picture that glider being used for?
RD: Well our responsibility is to develop the technology for this. How it's ultimately used will be determined by the military. Now the purpose of the vehicle though, the purpose of the technology, is to be able to reach anywhere in the world in less than 60 minutes.
CA: And to carry a payload of more than a few pounds? (RD: Yeah.) Like what's the payload it could carry?
RD: Well I don't think we ultimately know what it will be, right. We've got to fly it first.
CA: But not necessarily just a camera?
RD: No, not necessarily just a camera.
CA: It's amazing. The hummingbird?
RD: Yeah?
CA: I'm curious, you started your beautiful sequence on flight with a plane kind of trying to flap its wings and failing horribly, and there haven't been that many planes built since that flap wings. Why did we think that this was the time to go biomimicry and copy a hummingbird? Isn't that a very expensive solution for a small maneuverable flying object?
RD: So I mean, in part, we wondered if it was possible to do it. And you have to revisit these questions over time. The folks at AeroVironment tried 300 or more different wing designs, 12 different forms of the avionics. It took them 10 full prototypes to get something that would actually fly. But there's something really interesting about a flying machine that looks like something you'd recognize. So we often talk about stealth as a means for avoiding any type of sensing, but when things looks just natural, you also don't see them.
CA: Ah. So it's not necessarily just the performance. It's partly the look. (RD: Sure.) It's actually, "Look at that cute hummingbird flying into my headquarters." (Laughter) Because I think, as well as the awe of looking at that, I'm sure some people here are thinking, technology catches up so quick, how long is it before some crazed geek with a little remote control flies one through a window of the White House? I mean, do you worry about the Pandora's box issue here?
RD: Well look, our singular mission is the creation and prevention of strategic surprise. That's what we do. It would be inconceivable for us to do that work if we didn't make people excited and uncomfortable with the things that we do at the same time. It's just the nature of what we do. Now our responsibility is to push that edge. And we have to be, of course, mindful and responsible of how the technology is developed and ultimately used, but we can't simply close our eyes and pretend that it isn't advancing; it's advancing.
CA: I mean, you're clearly a really inspiring leader. And you persuade people to go to these great feats of invention, but at a personal level, in a way I can't imagine doing your job. Do you wake up in the night sometimes, just asking questions about the possibly unintended consequences of your team's brilliance?
RD: Sure. I think you couldn't be human if you didn't ask those questions.
CA: How do you answer them?
RD: Well I don't always have answers for them, right. I think that we learn as time goes on. My job is one of the most exhilarating jobs you could have. I work with some of the most amazing people. And with that exhilaration, comes a really deep sense of responsibility. And so you have on the one hand this tremendous lift of what's possible and this tremendous seriousness of what it means.
CA: Regina, that was jaw-dropping, as they say. Thank you so much for coming to TED. (RD: Thank you.)
The following information is used for educational purposes only.
Transcript:
The electricity powering the lights in this theater was generated just moments ago. Because the way things stand today, electricity demand must be in constant balance with electricity supply. If in the time that it took me to walk out here on this stage, some tens of megawatts of wind power stopped pouring into the grid, the difference would have to be made up from other generators immediately. But coal plants, nuclear plants can't respond fast enough. A giant battery could. With a giant battery, we'd be able to address the problem of intermittency that prevents wind and solar from contributing to the grid in the same way that coal, gas and nuclear do today.
You see, the battery is the key enabling device here. With it, we could draw electricity from the sun even when the sun doesn't shine. And that changes everything. Because then renewables such as wind and solar come out from the wings, here to center stage. Today I want to tell you about such a device. It's called the liquid metal battery. It's a new form of energy storage that I invented at MIT along with a team of my students and post-docs.
Now the theme of this year's TED Conference is Full Spectrum. The OED defines spectrum as "The entire range of wavelengths of electromagnetic radiation, from the longest radio waves to the shortest gamma rays of which the range of visible light is only a small part." So I'm not here today only to tell you how my team at MIT has drawn out of nature a solution to one of the world's great problems. I want to go full spectrum and tell you how, in the process of developing this new technology, we've uncovered some surprising heterodoxies that can serve as lessons for innovation, ideas worth spreading. And you know, if we're going to get this country out of its current energy situation, we can't just conserve our way out; we can't just drill our way out; we can't bomb our way out. We're going to do it the old-fashioned American way, we're going to invent our way out, working together.
(Applause)
Now let's get started. The battery was invented about 200 years ago by a professor, Alessandro Volta, at the University of Padua in Italy. His invention gave birth to a new field of science, electrochemistry, and new technologies such as electroplating. Perhaps overlooked, Volta's invention of the battery for the first time also demonstrated the utility of a professor. (Laughter) Until Volta, nobody could imagine a professor could be of any use.
Here's the first battery -- a stack of coins, zinc and silver, separated by cardboard soaked in brine. This is the starting point for designing a battery -- two electrodes, in this case metals of different composition, and an electrolyte, in this case salt dissolved in water. The science is that simple. Admittedly, I've left out a few details.
Now I've taught you that battery science is straightforward and the need for grid-level storage is compelling, but the fact is that today there is simply no battery technology capable of meeting the demanding performance requirements of the grid -- namely uncommonly high power, long service lifetime and super-low cost. We need to think about the problem differently. We need to think big, we need to think cheap.
So let's abandon the paradigm of let's search for the coolest chemistry and then hopefully we'll chase down the cost curve by just making lots and lots of product. Instead, let's invent to the price point of the electricity market. So that means that certain parts of the periodic table are axiomatically off-limits. This battery needs to be made out of earth-abundant elements. I say, if you want to make something dirt cheap, make it out of dirt -- (Laughter) preferably dirt that's locally sourced. And we need to be able to build this thing using simple manufacturing techniques and factories that don't cost us a fortune.
So about six years ago, I started thinking about this problem. And in order to adopt a fresh perspective, I sought inspiration from beyond the field of electricity storage. In fact, I looked to a technology that neither stores nor generates electricity, but instead consumes electricity, huge amounts of it. I'm talking about the production of aluminum. The process was invented in 1886 by a couple of 22-year-olds -- Hall in the United States and Heroult in France. And just a few short years following their discovery, aluminum changed from a precious metal costing as much as silver to a common structural material.
You're looking at the cell house of a modern aluminum smelter. It's about 50 feet wide and recedes about half a mile -- row after row of cells that, inside, resemble Volta's battery, with three important differences. Volta's battery works at room temperature. It's fitted with solid electrodes and an electrolyte that's a solution of salt and water. The Hall-Heroult cell operates at high temperature, a temperature high enough that the aluminum metal product is liquid. The electrolyte is not a solution of salt and water, but rather salt that's melted. It's this combination of liquid metal, molten salt and high temperature that allows us to send high current through this thing. Today, we can produce virgin metal from ore at a cost of less than 50 cents a pound. That's the economic miracle of modern electrometallurgy.
It is this that caught and held my attention to the point that I became obsessed with inventing a battery that could capture this gigantic economy of scale. And I did. I made the battery all liquid -- liquid metals for both electrodes and a molten salt for the electrolyte. I'll show you how. So I put low-density liquid metal at the top, put a high-density liquid metal at the bottom, and molten salt in between.
So now, how to choose the metals? For me, the design exercise always begins here with the periodic table, enunciated by another professor, Dimitri Mendeleyev. Everything we know is made of some combination of what you see depicted here. And that includes our own bodies. I recall the very moment one day when I was searching for a pair of metals that would meet the constraints of earth abundance, different, opposite density and high mutual reactivity. I felt the thrill of realization when I knew I'd come upon the answer. Magnesium for the top layer. And antimony for the bottom layer. You know, I've got to tell you, one of the greatest benefits of being a professor: colored chalk.
(Laughter)
So to produce current, magnesium loses two electrons to become magnesium ion, which then migrates across the electrolyte, accepts two electrons from the antimony, and then mixes with it to form an alloy. The electrons go to work in the real world out here, powering our devices. Now to charge the battery, we connect a source of electricity. It could be something like a wind farm. And then we reverse the current. And this forces magnesium to de-alloy and return to the upper electrode, restoring the initial constitution of the battery. And the current passing between the electrodes generates enough heat to keep it at temperature.
It's pretty cool, at least in theory. But does it really work? So what to do next? We go to the laboratory. Now do I hire seasoned professionals? No, I hire a student and mentor him, teach him how to think about the problem, to see it from my perspective and then turn him loose. This is that student, David Bradwell, who, in this image, appears to be wondering if this thing will ever work. What I didn't tell David at the time was I myself wasn't convinced it would work.
But David's young and he's smart and he wants a Ph.D., and he proceeds to build -- (Laughter) He proceeds to build the first ever liquid metal battery of this chemistry. And based on David's initial promising results, which were paid with seed funds at MIT, I was able to attract major research funding from the private sector and the federal government. And that allowed me to expand my group to 20 people, a mix of graduate students, post-docs and even some undergraduates.
And I was able to attract really, really good people, people who share my passion for science and service to society, not science and service for career building. And if you ask these people why they work on liquid metal battery, their answer would hearken back to President Kennedy's remarks at Rice University in 1962 when he said -- and I'm taking liberties here -- "We choose to work on grid-level storage, not because it is easy, but because it is hard."
(Applause)
So this is the evolution of the liquid metal battery. We start here with our workhorse one watt-hour cell. I called it the shotglass. We've operated over 400 of these, perfecting their performance with a plurality of chemistries -- not just magnesium and antimony. Along the way we scaled up to the 20 watt-hour cell. I call it the hockey puck. And we got the same remarkable results. And then it was onto the saucer. That's 200 watt-hours. The technology was proving itself to be robust and scalable. But the pace wasn't fast enough for us. So a year and a half ago, David and I, along with another research staff-member, formed a company to accelerate the rate of progress and the race to manufacture product.
So today at LMBC, we're building cells 16 inches in diameter with a capacity of one kilowatt-hour -- 1,000 times the capacity of that initial shotglass cell. We call that the pizza. And then we've got a four kilowatt-hour cell on the horizon. It's going to be 36 inches in diameter. We call that the bistro table, but it's not ready yet for prime-time viewing. And one variant of the technology has us stacking these bistro tabletops into modules, aggregating the modules into a giant battery that fits in a 40-foot shipping container for placement in the field. And this has a nameplate capacity of two megawatt-hours -- two million watt-hours. That's enough energy to meet the daily electrical needs of 200 American households. So here you have it, grid-level storage: silent, emissions-free, no moving parts, remotely controlled, designed to the market price point without subsidy.
So what have we learned from all this? (Applause) So what have we learned from all this? Let me share with you some of the surprises, the heterodoxies. They lie beyond the visible. Temperature: Conventional wisdom says set it low, at or near room temperature, and then install a control system to keep it there. Avoid thermal runaway. Liquid metal battery is designed to operate at elevated temperature with minimum regulation. Our battery can handle the very high temperature rises that come from current surges. Scaling: Conventional wisdom says reduce cost by producing many. Liquid metal battery is designed to reduce cost by producing fewer, but they'll be larger. And finally, human resources: Conventional wisdom says hire battery experts, seasoned professionals, who can draw upon their vast experience and knowledge. To develop liquid metal battery, I hired students and post-docs and mentored them. In a battery, I strive to maximize electrical potential; when mentoring, I strive to maximize human potential. So you see, the liquid metal battery story is more than an account of inventing technology, it's a blueprint for inventing inventors, full-spectrum.
The following information is used for educational purposes only.
Transcript:
Billy Collins: I'm here to give you your recommended dietary allowance of poetry. And the way I'm going to do that is present to you five animations of five of my poems. And let me just tell you a little bit of how that came about. Because the mixing of those two media is a sort of unnatural or unnecessary act.
But when I was United States Poet Laureate -- and I love saying that. (Laughter) It's a great way to start sentences. When I was him back then, I was approached by J. Walter Thompson, the ad company, and they were hired sort of by the Sundance Channel. And the idea was to have me record some of my poems and then they would find animators to animate them. And I was initially resistant, because I always think poetry can stand alone by itself. Attempts to put my poems to music have had disastrous results, in all cases. And the poem, if it's written with the ear, already has been set to its own verbal music as it was composed. And surely, if you're reading a poem that mentions a cow, you don't need on the facing page a drawing of a cow. I mean, let's let the reader do a little work.
But I relented because it seemed like an interesting possibility, and also I'm like a total cartoon junkie since childhood. I think more influential than Emily Dickinson or Coleridge or Wordsworth on my imagination were Warner Brothers, Merrie Melodies and Loony Tunes cartoons. Bugs Bunny is my muse. And this way poetry could find its way onto television of all places. And I'm pretty much all for poetry in public places -- poetry on buses, poetry on subways, on billboards, on cereal boxes. When I was Poet Laureate, there I go again -- I can't help it, it's true -- (Laughter) I created a poetry channel on Delta Airlines that lasted for a couple of years. So you could tune into poetry as you were flying.
And my sense is, it's a good thing to get poetry off the shelves and more into public life. Start a meeting with a poem. That would be an idea you might take with you. When you get a poem on a billboard or on the radio or on a cereal box or whatever, it happens to you so suddenly that you don't have time to deploy your anti-poetry deflector shields that were installed in high school.
So let us start with the first one. It's a little poem called "Budapest," and in it I reveal, or pretend to reveal, the secrets of the creative process.
(Video) Narration: "Budapest." My pen moves along the page like the snout of a strange animal shaped like a human arm and dressed in the sleeve of a loose green sweater. I watch it sniffing the paper ceaselessly, intent as any forager that has nothing on its mind but the grubs and insects that will allow it to live another day. It wants only to be here tomorrow, dressed perhaps in the sleeve of a plaid shirt, nose pressed against the page, writing a few more dutiful lines while I gaze out the window and imagine Budapest or some other city where I have never been.
BC: So that makes it seem a little easier. (Applause) Writing is not actually as easy as that for me. But I like to pretend that it comes with ease. One of my students came up after class, an introductory class, and she said, "You know, poetry is harder than writing," which I found both erroneous and profound. (Laughter) So I like to at least pretend it just flows out. A friend of mine has a slogan; he's another poet. He says that, "If at first you don't succeed, hide all evidence you ever tried."
(Laughter)
The next poem is also rather short. Poetry just says a few things in different ways. And I think you could boil this poem down to saying, "Some days you eat the bear, other days the bear eats you." And it uses the imagery of dollhouse furniture.
(Video) Narration: "Some Days." Some days I put the people in their places at the table, bend their legs at the knees, if they come with that feature, and fix them into the tiny wooden chairs. All afternoon they face one another, the man in the brown suit, the woman in the blue dress -- perfectly motionless, perfectly behaved. But other days I am the one who is lifted up by the ribs then lowered into the dining room of a dollhouse to sit with the others at the long table. Very funny. But how would you like it if you never knew from one day to the next if you were going to spend it striding around like a vivid god, your shoulders in the clouds, or sitting down there amidst the wallpaper staring straight ahead with your little plastic face?
(Applause)
BC: There's a horror movie in there somewhere. The next poem is called forgetfulness, and it's really just a kind of poetic essay on the subject of mental slippage. And the poem begins with a certain species of forgetfulness that someone called literary amnesia, in other words, forgetting the things that you have read.
(Video) Narration: "Forgetfulness." The name of the author is the first to go, followed obediently by the title, the plot, the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel, which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of. It is as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain to a little fishing village where there are no phones. Long ago, you kissed the names of the nine muses good-bye and you watched the quadratic equation pack its bag. And even now, as you memorize the order of the planets, something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps, the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay. Whatever it is you are struggling to remember, it is not poised on the tip of your tongue, not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen. It has floated away down a dark mythological river whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall, well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those who have forgotten even how to swim and how to ride a bicycle. No wonder you rise in the middle of the night to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war. No wonder the Moon in the window seems to have drifted out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.
(Applause)
BC: The next poem is called "The Country" and it's based on, when I was in college I met a classmate who remains to be a friend of mine. He lived, and still does, in rural Vermont. I lived in New York City. And we would visit each other. And when I would go up to the country, he would teach me things like deer hunting, which meant getting lost with a gun basically -- (Laughter) and trout fishing and stuff like that. And then he'd come down to New York City and I'd teach him what I knew, which was largely smoking and drinking. (Laughter) And in that way we traded lore with each other. The poem that's coming up is based on him trying to tell me a little something about a domestic point of etiquette in country living that I had a very hard time, at first, processing. It's called "The Country."
(Video) Narration: "The Country." I wondered about you when you told me never to leave a box of wooden strike-anywhere matches just lying around the house, because the mice might get into them and start a fire. But your face was absolutely straight when you twisted the lid down on the round tin where the matches, you said, are always stowed. Who could sleep that night? Who could whisk away the thought of the one unlikely mouse padding along a cold water pipe behind the floral wallpaper, gripping a single wooden match between the needles of his teeth? Who could not see him rounding a corner, the blue tip scratching against rough-hewn beam, the sudden flare and the creature, for one bright, shining moment, suddenly thrust ahead of his time -- now a fire-starter, now a torch-bearer in a forgotten ritual, little brown druid illuminating some ancient night? And who could fail to notice, lit up in the blazing insulation, the tiny looks of wonderment on the faces of his fellow mice -- one-time inhabitants of what once was your house in the country?
(Applause)
BC: Thank you. (Applause) Thank you. And the last poem is called "The Dead." I wrote this after a friend's funeral, but not so much about the friend as something the eulogist kept saying, as all eulogists tend to do, which is how happy the deceased would be to look down and see all of us assembled. And that to me was a bad start to the afterlife, having to witness your own funeral and feel gratified. So the little poem is called "The Dead."
(Video) Narration: "The Dead." The dead are always looking down on us, they say. While we are putting on our shoes or making a sandwich, they are looking down through the glass-bottom boats of heaven as they row themselves slowly through eternity. They watch the tops of our heads moving below on Earth. And when we lie down in a field or on a couch, drugged perhaps by the hum of a warm afternoon, they think we are looking back at them, which makes them lift their oars and fall silent and wait like parents for us to close our eyes.
(Applause)
BC: I'm not sure if other poems will be animated. It took a long time -- I mean, it's rather uncommon to have this marriage -- a long time to put those two together. But then again, it took us a long time to put the wheel and the suitcase together. (Laughter) I mean, we had the wheel for some time. And schlepping is an ancient and honorable art.
(Laughter)
I just have time to read a more recent poem to you. If it has a subject, the subject is adolescence. And it's addressed to a certain person. It's called "To My Favorite 17-Year-Old High School Girl."
"Do you realize that if you had started building the Parthenon on the day you were born, you would be all done in only one more year? Of course, you couldn't have done that all alone. So never mind; you're fine just being yourself. You're loved for just being you. But did you know that at your age Judy Garland was pulling down 150,000 dollars a picture, Joan of Arc was leading the French army to victory and Blaise Pascal had cleaned up his room -- no wait, I mean he had invented the calculator? Of course, there will be time for all that later in your life, after you come out of your room and begin to blossom, or at least pick up all your socks. For some reason I keep remembering that Lady Jane Grey was queen of England when she was only 15. But then she was beheaded, so never mind her as a role model. (Laughter) A few centuries later, when he was your age, Franz Schubert was doing the dishes for his family, but that did not keep him from composing two symphonies, four operas and two complete masses as a youngster. (Laughter) But of course, that was in Austria at the height of Romantic lyricism, not here in the suburbs of Cleveland. (Laughter) Frankly, who cares if Annie Oakley was a crack shot at 15 or if Maria Callas debuted as Tosca at 17? We think you're special just being you -- playing with your food and staring into space. (Laughter) By the way, I lied about Schubert doing the dishes, but that doesn't mean he never helped out around the house."
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Transcript:
When I was seven years old and my sister was just five years old, we were playing on top of a bunk bed. I was two years older than my sister at the time -- I mean, I'm two years older than her now -- but at the time it meant she had to do everything that I wanted to do, and I wanted to play war. So we were up on top of our bunk beds. And on one side of the bunk bed, I had put out all of my G.I. Joe soldiers and weaponry. And on the other side were all my sister's My Little Ponies ready for a cavalry charge.
There are differing accounts of what actually happened that afternoon, but since my sister is not here with us today, let me tell you the true story -- (Laughter) -- which is my sister's a little bit on the clumsy side. Somehow, without any help or push from her older brother at all, suddenly Amy disappeared off of the top of the bunk bed and landed with this crash on the floor. Now I nervously peered over the side of the bed to see what had befallen my fallen sister and saw that she had landed painfully on her hands and knees on all fours on the ground.
I was nervous because my parents had charged me with making sure that my sister and I played as safely and as quietly as possible. And seeing as how I had accidentally broken Amy's arm just one week before ... (Laughter) ... heroically pushing her out of the way of an oncoming imaginary sniper bullet, (Laughter) for which I have yet to be thanked, I was trying as hard as I could -- she didn't even see it coming -- I was trying as hard as I could to be on my best behavior.
And I saw my sister's face, this wail of pain and suffering and surprise threatening to erupt from her mouth and threatening to wake my parents from the long winter's nap for which they had settled. So I did the only thing my little frantic seven year-old brain could think to do to avert this tragedy. And if you have children, you've seen this hundreds of times before. I said, "Amy, Amy, wait. Don't cry. Don't cry. Did you see how you landed? No human lands on all fours like that. Amy, I think this means you're a unicorn."
(Laughter)
Now that was cheating, because there was nothing in the world my sister would want more than not to be Amy the hurt five year-old little sister, but Amy the special unicorn. Of course, this was an option that was open to her brain at no point in the past. And you could see how my poor, manipulated sister faced conflict, as her little brain attempted to devote resources to feeling the pain and suffering and surprise she just experienced, or contemplating her new-found identity as a unicorn. And the latter won out. Instead of crying, instead of ceasing our play, instead of waking my parents, with all the negative consequences that would have ensued for me, instead a smile spread across her face and she scrambled right back up onto the bunk bed with all the grace of a baby unicorn ... (Laughter) ... with one broken leg.
What we stumbled across at this tender age of just five and seven -- we had no idea at the time -- was something that was going be at the vanguard of a scientific revolution occurring two decades later in the way that we look at the human brain. What we had stumbled across is something called positive psychology, which is the reason that I'm here today and the reason that I wake up every morning.
When I first started talking about this research outside of academia, out with companies and schools, the very first thing they said to never do is to start your talk with a graph. The very first thing I want to do is start my talk with a graph. This graph looks boring, but this graph is the reason I get excited and wake up every morning. And this graph doesn't even mean anything; it's fake data. What we found is --
(Laughter)
If I got this data back studying you here in the room, I would be thrilled, because there's very clearly a trend that's going on there, and that means that I can get published, which is all that really matters. The fact that there's one weird red dot that's up above the curve, there's one weirdo in the room -- I know who you are, I saw you earlier -- that's no problem. That's no problem, as most of you know, because I can just delete that dot. I can delete that dot because that's clearly a measurement error. And we know that's a measurement error because it's messing up my data.
So one of the very first things we teach people in economics and statistics and business and psychology courses is how, in a statistically valid way, do we eliminate the weirdos. How do we eliminate the outliers so we can find the line of best fit? Which is fantastic if I'm trying to find out how many Advil the average person should be taking -- two. But if I'm interested in potential, if I'm interested in your potential, or for happiness or productivity or energy or creativity, what we're doing is we're creating the cult of the average with science.
If I asked a question like, "How fast can a child learn how to read in a classroom?" scientists change the answer to "How fast does the average child learn how to read in that classroom?" and then we tailor the class right towards the average. Now if you fall below the average on this curve, then psychologists get thrilled, because that means you're either depressed or you have a disorder, or hopefully both. We're hoping for both because our business model is, if you come into a therapy session with one problem, we want to make sure you leave knowing you have 10, so you keep coming back over and over again. We'll go back into your childhood if necessary, but eventually what we want to do is make you normal again. But normal is merely average.
And what I posit and what positive psychology posits is that if we study what is merely average, we will remain merely average. Then instead of deleting those positive outliers, what I intentionally do is come into a population like this one and say, why? Why is it that some of you are so high above the curve in terms of your intellectual ability, athletic ability, musical ability, creativity, energy levels, your resiliency in the face of challenge, your sense of humor? Whatever it is, instead of deleting you, what I want to do is study you. Because maybe we can glean information -- not just how to move people up to the average, but how we can move the entire average up in our companies and schools worldwide.
The reason this graph is important to me is, when I turn on the news, it seems like the majority of the information is not positive, in fact it's negative. Most of it's about murder, corruption, diseases, natural disasters. And very quickly, my brain starts to think that's the accurate ratio of negative to positive in the world. What that's doing is creating something called the medical school syndrome -- which, if you know people who've been to medical school, during the first year of medical training, as you read through a list of all the symptoms and diseases that could happen, suddenly you realize you have all of them.
I have a brother in-law named Bobo -- which is a whole other story. Bobo married Amy the unicorn. Bobo called me on the phone from Yale Medical School, and Bobo said, "Shawn, I have leprosy." (Laughter) Which, even at Yale, is extraordinarily rare. But I had no idea how to console poor Bobo because he had just gotten over an entire week of menopause.
(Laughter)
See what we're finding is it's not necessarily the reality that shapes us, but the lens through which your brain views the world that shapes your reality. And if we can change the lens, not only can we change your happiness, we can change every single educational and business outcome at the same time.
When I applied to Harvard, I applied on a dare. I didn't expect to get in, and my family had no money for college. When I got a military scholarship two weeks later, they allowed me to go. Suddenly, something that wasn't even a possibility became a reality. When I went there, I assumed everyone else would see it as a privilege as well, that they'd be excited to be there. Even if you're in a classroom full of people smarter than you, you'd be happy just to be in that classroom, which is what I felt. But what I found there is, while some people experience that, when I graduated after my four years and then spent the next eight years living in the dorms with the students -- Harvard asked me to; I wasn't that guy. (Laughter) I was an officer of Harvard to counsel students through the difficult four years. And what I found in my research and my teaching is that these students, no matter how happy they were with their original success of getting into the school, two weeks later their brains were focused, not on the privilege of being there, nor on their philosophy or their physics. Their brain was focused on the competition, the workload, the hassles, the stresses, the complaints.
When I first went in there, I walked into the freshmen dining hall, which is where my friends from Waco, Texas, which is where I grew up -- I know some of you have heard of it. When they'd come to visit me, they'd look around, they'd say, "This freshman dining hall looks like something out of Hogwart's from the movie "Harry Potter," which it does. This is Hogwart's from the movie "Harry Potter" and that's Harvard. And when they see this, they say, "Shawn, why do you waste your time studying happiness at Harvard? Seriously, what does a Harvard student possibly have to be unhappy about?"
Embedded within that question is the key to understanding the science of happiness. Because what that question assumes is that our external world is predictive of our happiness levels, when in reality, if I know everything about your external world, I can only predict 10 percent of your long-term happiness. 90 percent of your long-term happiness is predicted not by the external world, but by the way your brain processes the world. And if we change it, if we change our formula for happiness and success, what we can do is change the way that we can then affect reality. What we found is that only 25 percent of job successes are predicted by I.Q. 75 percent of job successes are predicted by your optimism levels, your social support and your ability to see stress as a challenge instead of as a threat.
I talked to a boarding school up in New England, probably the most prestigious boarding school, and they said, "We already know that. So every year, instead of just teaching our students, we also have a wellness week. And we're so excited. Monday night we have the world's leading expert coming in to speak about adolescent depression. Tuesday night it's school violence and bullying. Wednesday night is eating disorders. Thursday night is elicit drug use. And Friday night we're trying to decide between risky sex or happiness." (Laughter) I said, "That's most people's Friday nights." (Laughter) (Applause) Which I'm glad you liked, but they did not like that at all. Silence on the phone. And into the silence, I said, "I'd be happy to speak at your school, but just so you know, that's not a wellness week, that's a sickness week. What you've done is you've outlined all the negative things that can happen, but not talked about the positive."
The absence of disease is not health. Here's how we get to health: We need to reverse the formula for happiness and success. In the last three years, I've traveled to 45 different countries, working with schools and companies in the midst of an economic downturn. And what I found is that most companies and schools follow a formula for success, which is this: If I work harder, I'll be more successful. And if I'm more successful, then I'll be happier. That undergirds most of our parenting styles, our managing styles, the way that we motivate our behavior.
And the problem is it's scientifically broken and backwards for two reasons. First, every time your brain has a success, you just changed the goalpost of what success looked like. You got good grades, now you have to get better grades, you got into a good school and after you get into a better school, you got a good job, now you have to get a better job, you hit your sales target, we're going to change your sales target. And if happiness is on the opposite side of success, your brain never gets there. What we've done is we've pushed happiness over the cognitive horizon as a society. And that's because we think we have to be successful, then we'll be happier.
But the real problem is our brains work in the opposite order. If you can raise somebody's level of positivity in the present, then their brain experiences what we now call a happiness advantage, which is your brain at positive performs significantly better than it does at negative, neutral or stressed. Your intelligence rises, your creativity rises, your energy levels rise. In fact, what we've found is that every single business outcome improves. Your brain at positive is 31 percent more productive than your brain at negative, neutral or stressed. You're 37 percent better at sales. Doctors are 19 percent faster, more accurate at coming up with the correct diagnosis when positive instead of negative, neutral or stressed. Which means we can reverse the formula. If we can find a way of becoming positive in the present, then our brains work even more successfully as we're able to work harder, faster and more intelligently.
What we need to be able to do is to reverse this formula so we can start to see what our brains are actually capable of. Because dopamine, which floods into your system when you're positive, has two functions. Not only does it make you happier, it turns on all of the learning centers in your brain allowing you to adapt to the world in a different way.
We've found that there are ways that you can train your brain to be able to become more positive. In just a two-minute span of time done for 21 days in a row, we can actually rewire your brain, allowing your brain to actually work more optimistically and more successfully. We've done these things in research now in every single company that I've worked with, getting them to write down three new things that they're grateful for for 21 days in a row, three new things each day. And at the end of that, their brain starts to retain a pattern of scanning the world, not for the negative, but for the positive first.
Journaling about one positive experience you've had over the past 24 hours allows your brain to relive it. Exercise teaches your brain that your behavior matters. We find that meditation allows your brain to get over the cultural ADHD that we've been creating by trying to do multiple tasks at once and allows our brains to focus on the task at hand. And finally, random acts of kindness are conscious acts of kindness. We get people, when they open up their inbox, to write one positive email praising or thanking somebody in their social support network.
And by doing these activities and by training your brain just like we train our bodies, what we've found is we can reverse the formula for happiness and success, and in doing so, not only create ripples of positivity, but create a real revolution.
The following information is used for educational purposes only.
Transcript:
When I was nine years old I went off to summer camp for the first time. And my mother packed me a suitcase full of books, which to me seemed like a perfectly natural thing to do. Because in my family, reading was the primary group activity. And this might sound antisocial to you, but for us it was really just a different way of being social. You have the animal warmth of your family sitting right next to you, but you are also free to go roaming around the adventureland inside your own mind. And I had this idea that camp was going to be just like this, but better. (Laughter) I had a vision of 10 girls sitting in a cabin cozily reading books in their matching nightgowns.
(Laughter)
Camp was more like a keg party without any alcohol. And on the very first day our counselor gathered us all together and she taught us a cheer that she said we would be doing every day for the rest of the summer to instill camp spirit. And it went like this: "R-O-W-D-I-E, that's the way we spell rowdie. Rowdie, rowdie, let's get rowdie." Yeah. So I couldn't figure out for the life of me why we were supposed to be so rowdy, or why we had to spell this word incorrectly. (Laughter) But I recited a cheer. I recited a cheer along with everybody else. I did my best. And I just waited for the time that I could go off and read my books.
But the first time that I took my book out of my suitcase, the coolest girl in the bunk came up to me and she asked me, "Why are you being so mellow?" -- mellow, of course, being the exact opposite of R-O-W-D-I-E. And then the second time I tried it, the counselor came up to me with a concerned expression on her face and she repeated the point about camp spirit and said we should all work very hard to be outgoing.
And so I put my books away, back in their suitcase, and I put them under my bed, and there they stayed for the rest of the summer. And I felt kind of guilty about this. I felt as if the books needed me somehow, and they were calling out to me and I was forsaking them. But I did forsake them and I didn't open that suitcase again until I was back home with my family at the end of the summer.
Now, I tell you this story about summer camp. I could have told you 50 others just like it -- all the times that I got the message that somehow my quiet and introverted style of being was not necessarily the right way to go, that I should be trying to pass as more of an extrovert. And I always sensed deep down that this was wrong and that introverts were pretty excellent just as they were. But for years I denied this intuition, and so I became a Wall Street lawyer, of all things, instead of the writer that I had always longed to be -- partly because I needed to prove to myself that I could be bold and assertive too. And I was always going off to crowded bars when I really would have preferred to just have a nice dinner with friends. And I made these self-negating choices so reflexively, that I wasn't even aware that I was making them.
Now this is what many introverts do, and it's our loss for sure, but it is also our colleagues' loss and our communities' loss. And at the risk of sounding grandiose, it is the world's loss. Because when it comes to creativity and to leadership, we need introverts doing what they do best. A third to a half of the population are introverts -- a third to a half. So that's one out of every two or three people you know. So even if you're an extrovert yourself, I'm talking about your coworkers and your spouses and your children and the person sitting next to you right now -- all of them subject to this bias that is pretty deep and real in our society. We all internalize it from a very early age without even having a language for what we're doing.
Now to see the bias clearly you need to understand what introversion is. It's different from being shy. Shyness is about fear of social judgment. Introversion is more about, how do you respond to stimulation, including social stimulation. So extroverts really crave large amounts of stimulation, whereas introverts feel at their most alive and their most switched-on and their most capable when they're in quieter, more low-key environments. Not all the time -- these things aren't absolute -- but a lot of the time. So the key then to maximizing our talents is for us all to put ourselves in the zone of stimulation that is right for us.
But now here's where the bias comes in. Our most important institutions, our schools and our workplaces, they are designed mostly for extroverts and for extroverts' need for lots of stimulation. And also we have this belief system right now that I call the new groupthink, which holds that all creativity and all productivity comes from a very oddly gregarious place.
So if you picture the typical classroom nowadays: When I was going to school, we sat in rows. We sat in rows of desks like this, and we did most of our work pretty autonomously. But nowadays, your typical classroom has pods of desks -- four or five or six or seven kids all facing each other. And kids are working in countless group assignments. Even in subjects like math and creative writing, which you think would depend on solo flights of thought, kids are now expected to act as committee members. And for the kids who prefer to go off by themselves or just to work alone, those kids are seen as outliers often or, worse, as problem cases. And the vast majority of teachers reports believing that the ideal student is an extrovert as opposed to an introvert, even though introverts actually get better grades and are more knowledgeable, according to research. (Laughter)
Okay, same thing is true in our workplaces. Now, most of us work in open plan offices, without walls, where we are subject to the constant noise and gaze of our coworkers. And when it comes to leadership, introverts are routinely passed over for leadership positions, even though introverts tend to be very careful, much less likely to take outsize risks -- which is something we might all favor nowadays. And interesting research by Adam Grant at the Wharton School has found that introverted leaders often deliver better outcomes than extroverts do, because when they are managing proactive employees, they're much more likely to let those employees run with their ideas, whereas an extrovert can, quite unwittingly, get so excited about things that they're putting their own stamp on things, and other people's ideas might not as easily then bubble up to the surface.
Now in fact, some of our transformative leaders in history have been introverts. I'll give you some examples. Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks, Gandhi -- all these peopled described themselves as quiet and soft-spoken and even shy. And they all took the spotlight, even though every bone in their bodies was telling them not to. And this turns out to have a special power all its own, because people could feel that these leaders were at the helm, not because they enjoyed directing others and not out of the pleasure of being looked at; they were there because they had no choice, because they were driven to do what they thought was right.
Now I think at this point it's important for me to say that I actually love extroverts. I always like to say some of my best friends are extroverts, including my beloved husband. And we all fall at different points, of course, along the introvert/extrovert spectrum. Even Carl Jung, the psychologist who first popularized these terms, said that there's no such thing as a pure introvert or a pure extrovert. He said that such a man would be in a lunatic asylum, if he existed at all. And some people fall smack in the middle of the introvert/extrovert spectrum, and we call these people ambiverts. And I often think that they have the best of all worlds. But many of us do recognize ourselves as one type or the other.
And what I'm saying is that culturally we need a much better balance. We need more of a yin and yang between these two types. This is especially important when it comes to creativity and to productivity, because when psychologists look at the lives of the most creative people, what they find are people who are very good at exchanging ideas and advancing ideas, but who also have a serious streak of introversion in them.
And this is because solitude is a crucial ingredient often to creativity. So Darwin, he took long walks alone in the woods and emphatically turned down dinner party invitations. Theodor Geisel, better known as Dr. Seuss, he dreamed up many of his amazing creations in a lonely bell tower office that he had in the back of his house in La Jolla, California. And he was actually afraid to meet the young children who read his books for fear that they were expecting him this kind of jolly Santa Claus-like figure and would be disappointed with his more reserved persona. Steve Wozniak invented the first Apple computer sitting alone in his cubical in Hewlett-Packard where he was working at the time. And he says that he never would have become such an expert in the first place had he not been too introverted to leave the house when he was growing up.
Now of course, this does not mean that we should all stop collaborating -- and case in point, is Steve Wozniak famously coming together with Steve Jobs to start Apple Computer -- but it does mean that solitude matters and that for some people it is the air that they breathe. And in fact, we have known for centuries about the transcendent power of solitude. It's only recently that we've strangely begun to forget it. If you look at most of the world's major religions, you will find seekers -- Moses, Jesus, Buddha, Muhammad -- seekers who are going off by themselves alone to the wilderness where they then have profound epiphanies and revelations that they then bring back to the rest of the community. So no wilderness, no revelations.
This is no surprise though if you look at the insights of contemporary psychology. It turns out that we can't even be in a group of people without instinctively mirroring, mimicking their opinions. Even about seemingly personal and visceral things like who you're attracted to, you will start aping the beliefs of the people around you without even realizing that that's what you're doing.
And groups famously follow the opinions of the most dominant or charismatic person in the room, even though there's zero correlation between being the best talker and having the best ideas -- I mean zero. So ... (Laughter) You might be following the person with the best ideas, but you might not. And do you really want to leave it up to chance? Much better for everybody to go off by themselves, generate their own ideas freed from the distortions of group dynamics, and then come together as a team to talk them through in a well-managed environment and take it from there.
Now if all this is true, then why are we getting it so wrong? Why are we setting up our schools this way and our workplaces? And why are we making these introverts feel so guilty about wanting to just go off by themselves some of the time? One answer lies deep in our cultural history. Western societies, and in particular the U.S., have always favored the man of action over the man of contemplation and "man" of contemplation. But in America's early days, we lived in what historians call a culture of character, where we still, at that point, valued people for their inner selves and their moral rectitude. And if you look at the self-help books from this era, they all had titles with things like "Character, the Grandest Thing in the World." And they featured role models like Abraham Lincoln who was praised for being modest and unassuming. Ralph Waldo Emerson called him "A man who does not offend by superiority."
But then we hit the 20th century and we entered a new culture that historians call the culture of personality. What happened is we had evolved an agricultural economy to a world of big business. And so suddenly people are moving from small towns to the cities. And instead of working alongside people they've known all their lives, now they are having to prove themselves in a crowd of strangers. So, quite understandably, qualities like magnetism and charisma suddenly come to seem really important. And sure enough, the self-help books change to meet these new needs and they start to have names like "How to Win Friends and Influence People." And they feature as their role models really great salesmen. So that's the world we're living in today. That's our cultural inheritance.
Now none of this is to say that social skills are unimportant, and I'm also not calling for the abolishing of teamwork at all. The same religions who send their sages off to lonely mountain tops also teach us love and trust. And the problems that we are facing today in fields like science and in economics are so vast and so complex that we are going to need armies of people coming together to solve them working together. But I am saying that the more freedom that we give introverts to be themselves, the more likely that they are to come up with their own unique solutions to these problems.
So now I'd like to share with you what's in my suitcase today. Guess what? Books. I have a suitcase full of books. Here's Margaret Atwood, "Cat's Eye." Here's a novel by Milan Kundera. And here's "The Guide for the Perplexed" by Maimonides. But these are not exactly my books. I brought these books with me because they were written by my grandfather's favorite authors.
My grandfather was a rabbi and he was a widower who lived alone in a small apartment in Brooklyn that was my favorite place in the world when I was growing up, partly because it was filled with his very gentle, very courtly presence and partly because it was filled with books. I mean literally every table, every chair in this apartment had yielded its original function to now serve as a surface for swaying stacks of books. Just like the rest of my family, my grandfather's favorite thing to do in the whole world was to read.
But he also loved his congregation, and you could feel this love in the sermons that he gave every week for the 62 years that he was a rabbi. He would takes the fruits of each week's reading and he would weave these intricate tapestries of ancient and humanist thought. And people would come from all over to hear him speak.
But here's the thing about my grandfather. Underneath this ceremonial role, he was really modest and really introverted -- so much so that when he delivered these sermons, he had trouble making eye contact with the very same congregation that he had been speaking to for 62 years. And even away from the podium, when you called him to say hello, he would often end the conversation prematurely for fear that he was taking up too much of your time. But when he died at the age of 94, the police had to close down the streets of his neighborhood to accommodate the crowd of people who came out to mourn him. And so these days I try to learn from my grandfather's example in my own way.
So I just published a book about introversion, and it took me about seven years to write. And for me, that seven years was like total bliss, because I was reading, I was writing, I was thinking, I was researching. It was my version of my grandfather's hours of the day alone in his library. But now all of a sudden my job is very different, and my job is to be out here talking about it, talking about introversion. (Laughter) And that's a lot harder for me, because as honored as I am to be here with all of you right now, this is not my natural milieu.
So I prepared for moments like these as best I could. I spent the last year practicing public speaking every chance I could get. And I call this my "year of speaking dangerously." (Laughter) And that actually helped a lot. But I'll tell you, what helps even more is my sense, my belief, my hope that when it comes to our attitudes to introversion and to quiet and to solitude, we truly are poised on the brink on dramatic change. I mean, we are. And so I am going to leave you now with three calls for action for those who share this vision.
Number one: Stop the madness for constant group work. Just stop it. (Laughter) Thank you. (Applause) And I want to be clear about what I'm saying, because I deeply believe our offices should be encouraging casual, chatty cafe-style types of interactions -- you know, the kind where people come together and serendipitously have an exchange of ideas. That is great. It's great for introverts and it's great for extroverts. But we need much more privacy and much more freedom and much more autonomy at work. School, same thing. We need to be teaching kids to work together, for sure, but we also need to be teaching them how to work on their own. This is especially important for extroverted children too. They need to work on their own because that is where deep thought comes from in part.
Okay, number two: Go to the wilderness. Be like Buddha, have your own revelations. I'm not saying that we all have to now go off and build our own cabins in the woods and never talk to each other again, but I am saying that we could all stand to unplug and get inside our own heads a little more often.
Number three: Take a good look at what's inside your own suitcase and why you put it there. So extroverts, maybe your suitcases are also full of books. Or maybe they're full of champagne glasses or skydiving equipment. Whatever it is, I hope you take these things out every chance you get and grace us with your energy and your joy. But introverts, you being you, you probably have the impulse to guard very carefully what's inside your own suitcase. And that's okay. But occasionally, just occasionally, I hope you will open up your suitcases for other people to see, because the world needs you and it needs the things you carry.
So I wish you the best of all possible journeys and the courage to speak softly.
The following information is used for educational purposes only.
Transcript:
One out of two of you women will be impacted by cardiovascular disease in your lifetime. So this is the leading killer of women. It's a closely held secret for reasons I don't know. In addition to making this personal -- so we're going to talk about your relationship with your heart and all women's relationship with their heart -- we're going to wax into the politics. Because the personal, as you know, is political. And not enough is being done about this. And as we have watched women conquer breast cancer through the breast cancer campaign, this is what we need to do now with heart.
Since 1984, more women die in the U.S. than men. So where we used to think of heart disease as being a man's problem primarily -- which that was never true, but that was kind of how everybody thought in the 1950s and '60s, and it was in all the textbooks. It's certainly what I learned when I was training. If we were to remain sexist, and that was not right, but if we were going to go forward and be sexist, it's actually a woman's disease. So it's a woman's disease now.
And one of the things that you see is that male line, the mortality is going down, down, down, down, down. And you see the female line since 1984, the gap is widening. More and more women, two, three, four times more women, dying of heart disease than men. And that's too short of a time period for all the different risk factors that we know to change. So what this really suggested to us at the national level was that diagnostic and therapeutic strategies, which had been developed in men, by men, for men for the last 50 years -- and they work pretty well in men, don't they? -- weren't working so well for women. So that was a big wake-up call in the 1980's.
Heart disease kills more women at all ages than breast cancer. And the breast cancer campaign -- again, this is not a competition. We're trying to be as good as the breast cancer campaign. We need to be as good as the breast cancer campaign to address this crisis. Now sometimes when people see this, I hear this gasp. We can all think of someone, often a young woman, who has been impacted by breast cancer. We often can't think of a young woman who has heart disease. I'm going to tell you why. Heart disease kills people, often very quickly. So the first time heart disease strikes in women and men, half of the time it's sudden cardiac death -- no opportunity to say good-bye, no opportunity to take her to the chemotherapy, no opportunity to help her pick out a wig.
Breast cancer, mortality is down to four percent. And that is the 40 years that women have advocated. Betty Ford, Nancy Reagan stood up and said, "I'm a breast cancer survivor," and it was okay to talk about it. And then physicians have gone to bat. We've done the research. We have effective therapies now. Women are living longer than ever. That has to happen in heart disease, and it's time. It's not happening, and it's time.
We owe an incredible debt of gratitude to these two women. As Barbara depicted in one of her amazing movies, "Yentl," she portrayed a young woman who wanted an education. And she wanted to study the Talmud. And so how did she get educated then? She had to impersonate a man. She had to look like a man. She had to make other people believe that she looked like a man and she could have the same rights that the men had. Bernadine Healy, Dr. Healy, was a cardiologist. And right around that time, in the 1980's, that we saw women and heart disease deaths going up, up, up, up, up, she wrote an editorial in the New England Journal of Medicine and said, the Yentl syndrome. Women are dying of heart disease, two, three, four times more than men. Mortality is not going down, it's going up. And she questioned, she hypothesized, is this a Yentl syndrome?
And here's what the story is. Is it because women don't look like men, they don't look like that male-pattern heart disease that we've spent the last 50 years understanding and getting really good diagnostics and really good therapeutics, and therefore, they're not recognized for their heart disease. And they're just passed. They don't get treated, they don't get detected, they don't get the benefit of all the modern medicines.
Doctor Healy then subsequently became the first female director of our National Institutes of Health. And this is the biggest biomedical enterprise research in the world. And it funds a lot of my research. It funds research all over the place. It was a very big deal for her to become director. And she started, in the face of a lot of controversy, the Women's Health Initiative. And every woman in the room here has benefited from that Women's Health Initiative. It told us about hormone replacement therapy. It's informed us about osteoporosis. It informed us about breast cancer, colon cancer in women. So a tremendous fund of knowledge despite, again, that so many people told her not to do it, it was too expensive. And the under-reading was women aren't worth it. She was like, "Nope. Sorry. Women are worth it."
Well there was a little piece of that Women's Health Initiative that went to National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute, which is the cardiology part of the NIH. And we got to do the WISE study -- and the WISE stands for Women's Ischemia Syndrome Evaluation -- and I have chaired this study for the last 15 years. It was a study to specifically ask, what's going on with women? Why are more and more women dying of ischemic heart disease? So in the WISE, 15 years ago, we started out and said, "Well wow, there's a couple of key observations and we should probably follow up on that." And our colleagues in Washington, D.C. had recently published that when women have heart attacks and die, compared to men who have heart attacks and die -- and again, this is millions of people, happening every day -- women, in their fatty plaque -- and this is their coronary artery, so the main blood supply going into the heart muscle -- women erode, men explode. You're going to find some interesting analogies in this physiology.
(Laughter)
So I'll describe the male-pattern heart attack first. Hollywood heart attack. Ughhhh. Horrible chest pain. EKG goes pbbrrhh, so the doctors can see this hugely abnormal EKG. There's a big clot in the middle of the artery. And they go up to the cath lab and boom, boom, boom get rid of the clot. That's a man heart attack. Some women have those heart attacks, but a whole bunch of women have this kind of heart attack, where it erodes, doesn't completely fill with clot, symptoms are subtle, EKG findings are different -- female-pattern. So what do you think happens to these gals? They're often not recognized, sent home. I'm not sure what it was. Might have been gas.
So we picked up on that and we said, "You know, we now have the ability to look inside human beings with these special catheters called IVUS: intravascular ultrasound." And we said, "We're going to hypothesize that the fatty plaque in women is actually probably different, and deposited differently, than men." And because of the common knowledge of how women and men get fat. When we watch people become obese, where do men get fat? Right here, it's just a focal -- right there. Where do women get fat? All over. Cellulite here, cellulite here. So we said, "Look, women look like they're pretty good about putting kind of the garbage away, smoothly putting it away. Men just have to dump it in a single area." So we said, "Let's look at these."
And so the yellow is the fatty plaque, and panel A is a man. And you can see, it's lumpy bumpy. He's got a beer belly in his coronary arteries. Panel B is the woman, very smooth. She's just laid it down nice and tidy. (Laughter) And if you did that angiogram, which is the red, you can see the man's disease. So 50 years of honing and crafting these angiograms, we easily recognize male-pattern disease. Kind of hard to see that female-pattern disease. So that was a discovery. Now what are the implications of that? Well once again, women get the angiogram and nobody can tell that they have a problem.
So we are working now on a non-invasive -- again, these are all invasive studies. Ideally you would love to do all this non-invasively. And again, 50 years of good non-invasive stress testing, we're pretty good at recognizing male-pattern disease with stress tests. So this is cardiac magnetic resonance imaging. We're doing this at the Cedars-Sinai Heart Institute in the Women's Heart Center. We selected this for the research. This is not in your community hospital, but we would hope to translate this. And we're about two and a half years into a five-year study.
This was the only modality that can see the inner lining of the heart. And if you look carefully, you can see that there's a black blush right there. And that is microvascular obstruction. The syndrome, the female-pattern now is called microvascular coronary dysfunction, or obstruction. The second reason we really liked MRI is that there's no radiation. So unlike the CAT scans, X-rays, thalliums, for women whose breast is in the way of looking at the heart, every time we order something that has even a small amount of radiation, we say, "Do we really need that test?" So we're very excited about M.R. You can't go and order it yet, but this is an area of active inquiry where actually studying women is going to advance the field for women and men.
What are the downstream consequences then, when female-pattern heart disease is not recognized? This is a figure from an editorial that I published in the European Heart Journal this last summer. And it was just a pictogram to sort of show why more women are dying of heart disease, despite these good treatments that we know and we have work. And when the woman has male-pattern disease -- so she looks like Barbara in the movie -- they get treated. And when you have female-pattern and you look like a woman, as Barbara does here with her husband, they don't get the treatment. These are our life-saving treatments. And those little red boxes are deaths. So those are the consequences. And that is female-pattern and why we think the Yentl syndrome actually is explaining a lot of these gaps.
There's been wonderful news also about studying women, finally, in heart disease. And one of the the cutting-edge areas that we're just incredibly excited about is stem cell therapy. If you ask, what is the big difference between women and men physiologically? Why are there women and men? Because women bring new life into the world. That's all stem cells. So we hypothesized that female stem cells might be better at identifying the injury, doing some cellular repair or even producing new organs, which is one of the things that we're trying to do with stem cell therapy. These are female and male stem cells. And if you had an injured organ, if you had a heart attack and we wanted to repair that injured area, do you want those robust, plentiful stem cells on the top? Or do you want these guys, that look like they're out to lunch?
(Laughter)
And some of our investigative teams have demonstrated that female stem cells -- and this is in animals and increasingly we're showing this in humans -- that female stem cells, when put even into a male body, do better than male stem cells going into a male body. One of the things that we say about all of this female physiology -- because again, as much as we're talking about women and heart disease, women do, on average, have better longevity than men -- is that unfolding the secrets of female physiology and understanding that is going to help men and women. So this is not a zero-sum game in anyway.
Okay, so here's where we started. And remember, paths crossed in 1984, and more and more women were dying of cardiovascular disease. What has happened in the last 15 years with this work? We are bending the curve. We're bending the curve. So just like the breast cancer story, doing research, getting awareness going, it works, you just have to get it going. Now are we happy with this? We still have two to three more women dying for every man.
And I would propose, with the better longevity that women have overall, that women probably should theoretically do better, if we could just get treated. So this is where we are, but we have a long row to hoe. We've worked on this for 15 years. And I've told you, we've been working on male-pattern heart disease for 50 years. So we're 35 years behind. And we'd like to think it's not going to take 35 years. And in fact, it probably won't. But we cannot stop now. Too many lives are at stake.
So what do we need to do? You now, hopefully, have a more personal relationship with your heart. Women have heard the call for breast cancer and they have come out for awareness campaigns. The women are very good about getting mammograms now. And women do fundraising. Women participate. They have put their money where their mouth is and they have done advocacy and they have joined campaigns. This is what we need to do with heart disease now.
And it's political. Women's health, from a federal funding standpoint, sometimes it's popular, sometimes it's not so popular. So we have these feast and famine cycles. So I implore you to join the Red Dress Campaign in this fundraising. Breast cancer, as we said, kills women, but heart disease kills a whole bunch more. So if we can be as good as breast cancer and give women this new charge, we have a lot of lives to save.
So thank you for your attention.
(Applause)
