Chicago Day 3: Choices

Ego Depletion

I walked past this two story head to get from my hotel to the conference every day.  Not sure what the color chart is for.

So the big thing in the morning keynote was on Ego Depletion, or Cognitive Depletion.  Here's the deal.  When faced with a bunch of choices, you spend a little bit of brain power actually making that choice.  Even if the choice is a seeminingly trivial one (like what kind of cookies to buy in a store), you spend valuable mental resources making it.

It explains some stuff in American society that doesn't make sense otherwise.  For example,  Americans usually have an "opt-in" policy for organ donations on driver's licenses.  You have to actually check a box to do it.  But it's usually at the end of a form, so after having your brain depleted by a bunch of questions, you're asked another question.  Americans usually don't check the box.  Europeans, howver, have an opt-out policy - it's the same box on the same sort of form, but you have to check it NOT to donate your organs.  Guess who has the higher oragan donation rate?  In Europe, it reaches virtually 100%.

They've done psychological studies, giving one group 7 things to memorize and another 2 things.  Then they set them loose in a room with cookies in them.  The people with 7 things to memorize tend to grab the cookies.  They know that cookies are bad for them, but they lack the willpower (which also depletes bran energy) to choose.

This relates to my dinner last night.  Perhaps, I enjoyed it more because there were less choices.  I had more brain power to pay attention to my food because I didn't spend oodles of time picking it.  (Plus, it tasted so damn good.)  Americans think it's their god-given right to have lots and lots of choices because "I am a unique snowflake". But it's probably true that we're more alike than we're willing to admit.  Infinite choice is just really tiring.

At the conference, the "Programmers as Writers" them dotted the landscape.  In one workshop, they actually advanced the idea of reading code as if it were novels.  She organized a Code Club.  It functions like a book group - people read code bases, then discuss and critique.  An awesome idea!  And unlike real book clubs, there wasn't the drama and excessive wine drinking.

I feel somewhat of a fish-out-of-water at his conference.  I'm like most participants in that I'm a white male who loves to write software in Rails.  But I'm unlike them because:

1. I wear collared shirts
2. I have a PC, not a Mac
3. I'm old.  And as of yesterday, that's even more true.  

Still, I have a sense that this crowd is more into holistic do-good-in-the-world stuff, so I probably have all the bonding I actually need.  A man named Matz, the creator of Ruby (the language underneath Rails) is its spiritual guide, and the saying goes "Matz is nice, so we are nice."    Indeed.

Macho Salad

I went to Bandera's for dinner.  Some one on Yelp advised "get the Macho Salad.  It's like a party in your mouth."

I loved the ambiance.  Chicago's lawyers and business folks in power suits - discussing the cubs game.  Couples.  A few tourists, but not too many.  A piano jazz trio playing "Desafinado" (which endeared me to them immediately.)  A beautiful sight.  

And my Yelp advisor was quite right.  The Macho Salad was a cornucopia of flavors - figs, goat cheese, a little tomato, chicken, fish, avacado, corn, nuts, and a spicy dressing over it.  The best part was the croutons - little fried bits of corn bread.  There was nothing dislikable about it, individually or collectively.

It was a party and it was fun.  But. It wasn't a love affair.  It wasn't a religious experience.  It didn't change me.  It felt too processed, too familiar, too easy.  It was ground I had already covered.