Why you should treat life like a science experiment
Congratulations to Grace Wade for succeeding in her New Year’s resolution to run a half-marathon last year.
I’m a little sceptical about some of the claims derived from countless PR-fodder surveys about New Year’s resolutions, but it does seem to ring true that our tradition of setting big, long-term goals at the start of January isn’t always that effective (10 January, p 43).
Perhaps it is just a case of different approaches working for different people? For what it’s worth, my current favourite approach is the Tiny Experiments method developed by neuroscientist Anne-Laure Le Cunff: ditch linear goals, and treat life more like a science experiment. Develop a hypothesis, put it to the test, evaluate the results, adapt and go again. Essentially, embrace trial and error, and don’t feel bad about the failures 鈥� it’s all valuable data!
Expressing individuality as part of the crowd
The behaviour described in The Lonely Crowd does indeed seem very applicable to modern social media, as Annalee Newitz argues. However, it’s been very common for at least a century (24 January, p 20).
Every generation thinks they’re being more individual by “rebelling” and becoming a flapper, teddy boy, mod, biker, rocker (that was me), punk, skin head, goth or whatever. This always involves dressing the same as all the others in your new-found group, liking the same music, doing the same things and having the same opinions. All this while insisting to everyone that they are asserting their individuality.
In defence of practising effective altruism
I was saddened to see effective altruism included in “The 5 worst ideas of the 21st century”. The idea in question is simply that when we give, we should try to do so thoughtfully, using evidence and reasoning to help others more effectively. In a century where many bright-sounding ideas have soured, from the gig economy to wellness optimisation, criticising the notion of giving more consciously is a strange choice (24 January, p 28).
The mystery of the missing meteorite lives on
I, too, am sceptical of the existence of a giant iron meteorite in the Sahara desert, but the two letters published on this question miss the point that Gaston Ripert didn’t just see the object from a distance. He climbed over it and indeed brought back a sample that is clearly a rare type of meteorite. This makes the whole episode far more intriguing than “man fooled by mirage” or “man fooled by painted rock”, unless he was spinning a yarn, which his personality suggests is unlikely (Letters, 24 January). The mystery remains…
Which one came first: bread or beer?
Did bread or beer come first? Michael Marshall claims it is still undecided. But his evidence doesn’t go back far enough (13/20 December 2025, p 46).
Grindstones with traces of grain, found at Cuddie Springs in New South Wales, have been dated to 30,000 years ago. And with evidence for occupation at Madjedbebe in the Northern Territory dating back to 65,000 years ago, it is likely that the starch residue on artefacts there is even older. Whether the seed at these sites were fermented or not is another matter.
More musings on our relationship with nature
I am somewhat mollified that Richard Smyth has aired some unpalatable but necessary facts on our relationship with nature. Some say they are nature lovers, but only the bits of nature with bike paths, horse riding or 4WD tracks, and with trees removed to see the view. I so often find that people’s expressed love of nature is based on fantasies, and that much actual nature is avoided because it is uncomfortable. Connect with nature by all means, but connect with the realities, not the children’s fantasies (10 January, p 19).
Passing chess down through the generations
I read with interest your article “Is it checkmate for the standard version of chess?”. As the great-grandson of the mathematician Frank Morley, who started his life as an avid chess player at age 10, I was introduced to chess by my grandfather, his youngest son (10 January, p 13).
As a youngster, I experimented with hexagonal chess boards, played Chinese chess and Go, and I developed a quad-game board where standard chess (and draughts), Chinese chess, Japanese chess (Shogi) and Go could all be played. I am now introducing chess to my 7-year-old grandson, Francis Morley Michael. While we have so far stuck to playing on a standard chess board, the games are anything but the standard version. It is checkmate against me every time as Francis makes up his own rules and gobbles up all my pieces.
Hopefully, by age 10, he will play by standard, or fairer, rules, or something completely different that allows the game of chess to be more enjoyable for players of different rankings.
How to approach an era of water bankruptcy
Calling the current water crisis “water bankruptcy” is more than a metaphor; it is an accurate diagnosis. Like financial collapse, it results not from a single dramatic failure but from countless routine decisions that quietly overspend a finite resource. What stands out is not a lack of knowledge. The science is clear, and has been for some time. The problem is behavioural: evidence accumulates faster than willingness to act on it. If this is truly an era of water bankruptcy, the open question is whether societies can change course before the costs become unavoidable (24 January, p 8).
A theory on why we might have junk DNA
I speculate that part of the reason for junk DNA is to make it difficult for viruses to manipulate our genomes. A side effect of this is that it will be difficult for us to manipulate our genomes (10 January, p 12).