We hear a lot about energy research and development. Perhaps that's because it's the one sort of policy that Republicans and Democrats generally agree on. But there's a different kind of research that I'd like to see get a lot more attention and funding. I'm talking about research into what various kinds of energy policies actually *do* to shape the technical possibilities open to humanity.
In my time researching energy, most of the people who actually care about where we get our energy from have committed to an energy source, be it oil, gas, traditional nuclear, wind, solar, geothermal, or thorium. Then, they go looking for policies that would benefit their technology. I've also run into a lot of people who believe in inexorable laws of change in energy, whether that's decarbonization or the inevitable rise of natural gas or nuclear power. And I've run into a lot of energy experts who believe in a fairly simple relationship between research money going in and technologies coming out.
Unfortunately, none of these three groups of people is likely to produce very good energy policy. To put it in more mainstream terms, we've got a lot of energy pundits and very few energy Nate Silvers, who put reality (i.e. good data) ahead of ideology and intuition. Don't get me wrong: everyone in energy loves them some data, but few people are interested in using it the way Silver does.
Let me introduce you to a scholar who I think embodies the kind of research we need more of. His name is Gregory Nemet. He did his PhD at Berkeley and now teaches at the University of Wisconsin, Madison. I first discovered his work through a 2006 paper in Energy Policy, "Beyond the Learning Curve: factors influencing cost reductions in photovoltaics." Now, you're probably familiar with the neat story that learning curves tell. They say that as you do something, you get better at it, and because it's a curve, the assumption is that this happens at a fairly consistent (and therefore predictable) rate. This is part of the rationale for supporting photovoltaics after all. They've gotten so much cheaper (orders of magnitude) over the last few decades that proponents suggest they're inevitably going to get cheaper than grid electricity some time in the near future.
But this is just too simple a model for the way the world works. Nemet first demolishes the idea that we can bank on simple learning by experience models that show consistent cost reductions as the amount of solar produced increases. These analyses are super sensitive to small changes in the learning rate or the growth of the market (the number of megawatts of PV production in a given time span). And that's not even taking into account the discontinuities that we know occur in technological development. He raises several other powerful objections based on the literature. All in all, it's a pretty amazing takedown of a common method of analysis.
But he doesn't stop there. He then uses the history of photovoltaics (from 1976-2001) to demonstrate a new way of modeling cost reductions in technology. It's hard to gloss the whole thing, but suffice to say that his model allows him to identify which of the following factors were important for different periods of the technology's evolution in driving down cost: plant size, scaling factor, module efficiency, silicon cost, wafer size, silicon use, yield, polycrystal share, polycrystal cost.
With kind of policy impact might that have? Well, if increasing the size of photovoltaic plants appears to lead to large cost reductions, then it might be a good idea to have a loan program that helps get these sorts of plants built. A loan program much like the one that produced many good outcomes along with a few duds like Solyndra.
But there's a deeper reason to support this kind of research. When people think of technological development as somehow magically proceeding apace, it makes it seem *as if* people's personal and civic interventions don't matter. But of course they do! It's just that when you draw one curve to stick in your PowerPoint, all the decisions that affect the factors above get submerged into a false law of simplistic cost reductions.
Since 2006, Nemet has kept working on important research projects. He's done more work on trying to model the effectiveness of differing government support models, as in this paper on whether subsidies or R&D spending are more likely to bring organic solar cells to market. (In this case, the answer is R&D.)
His most recent work, though, might be his most significant, though I think his current research program is not yet complete. In carious ways, he's been trying to get at a very basic question: do demand-side subsidies work to stimulate technological development? Or might better policies exist? This is more than a theoretical question, given the various tax credits both here and abroad that appear to have pushed low-carbon technologies forward. Note the way I framed his project, which I think he would agree with. This is not about whether Nemet believes government should be subsidizing energy projects or not. This is not about whether solar or wind or nuclear *should* be the future of our energy system. No, this is something more basic and more difficult to answer: how much can subsidies enhance the learning (and therefore cost reductions) that an industry like wind actually does?
If you're curious what his final analysis is, here's the conclusion from an excellent forthcoming paper in the Journal of Policy Analysis and Management. You probably won't be surprised to learn that he makes a nuanced judgment:
The magnitude of public funds at stake add some urgency to improving understanding of the extent and characteristics of knowledge spillovers from learning by doing. The main results here imply that policies that enhance demand are necessary to generate sufficient knowledge from experience. Other insights from this case--especially depreciation and diminishing returns--heighten the value of policy instruments with performance-oriented mechanisms and longevity. That experience-derived knowledge appears to be so ephemeral suggests that we should also consider explicit support for codification and transfer of what is learned.
Science says lasting relationships come down to—you guessed it—kindness and generosity.
Every day in June, the most popular wedding month of the year, about 13,000 American couples will say “I do,” committing to a lifelong relationship that will be full of friendship, joy, and love that will carry them forward to their final days on this earth.
Except, of course, it doesn’t work out that way for most people. The majority of marriages fail, either ending in divorce and separation or devolving into bitterness and dysfunction. Of all the people who get married, only three in ten remain in healthy, happy marriages, as psychologist Ty Tashiro points out in his book The Science of Happily Ever After, which was published earlier this year.
Social scientists first started studying marriages by observing them in action in the 1970s in response to a crisis: Married couples were divorcing at unprecedented rates. Worried about the impact these divorces would have on the children of the broken marriages, psychologists decided to cast their scientific net on couples, bringing them into the lab to observe them and determine what the ingredients of a healthy, lasting relationship were. Was each unhappy family unhappy in its own way, as Tolstoy claimed, or did the miserable marriages all share something toxic in common?
Studies have shown narcissists post more self-promoting content on social media, but it's not always so easy to tell if someone's doing it for the attention.
It’s not hard to see why the Internet would be a good cave for a narcissist to burrow into. Generally speaking, they prefer shallow relationships (preferably one-way, with the arrow pointing toward themselves), and need outside sources to maintain their inflated but delicate egos. So, a shallow cave that you can get into, but not out of. The Internet offers both a vast potential audience, and the possibility for anonymity, and if not anonymity, then a carefully curated veneer of self that you can attach your name to.
In 1987, the psychologists Hazel Markus and Paula Nurius claimed that a person has two selves: the “now self” and the “possible self.” The Internet allows a person to become her “possible self,” or at least present a version of herself that is closer to it.
He lives near San Francisco, makes more than $50,000 per year, and is voting for the billionaire to fight against political correctness.
For several days, I’ve been corresponding with a 22-year-old Donald Trump supporter. He is white, has a bachelor’s degree, and earns $50,000 to $60,000 per year.
He lives near San Francisco.
“I recently became engaged to my Asian fiancée who is making roughly 3 times what I make, and I am completely supportive of her and proud she is doing so well,” he wrote. “We’ve both benefitted a lot from globalization. We are young, urban, and have a happy future planned. We seem molded to be perfect young Hillary supporters,” he observed, “but we're not. In 2016, we're both going for Trump.”
At first, we discussed Bill Clinton.
Last week, I wrote an article asking why Trump supporters aren’t bothered that their candidate called Clinton a shameful abuser of women who may well be a rapist. After all, Trump used to insist that Clinton was a victim of unfair treatment during his sex scandals. Either Trump spent years defending a man that he believed to be a sexual predator, even welcoming him as a guest at his wedding, or Trump is now cynically exploiting a rape allegation that he believes to be false.
Three Atlantic staffers discuss “Blood of My Blood,” the sixth episode of the sixth season.
Every week for the sixth season of Game of Thrones, Christopher Orr, Spencer Kornhaber, and Lenika Cruz will be discussing new episodes of the HBO drama. Because no screeners are being made available to critics in advance this year, we'll be posting our thoughts in installments.
Five weeks of training was not enough to prepare me for a room of 20 unruly elementary-schoolers.
I am sitting in a comfortable gold folding chair inside one of the many ballrooms at the Georgia International Convention Center. The atmosphere is festive, with a three-course dinner being served and children playing a big-band number. The kids are students at a KIPP academy in Atlanta, and they are serenading future teachers on the first night of a four-day-long series of workshops that will introduce us to the complicated language, rituals, and doctrines we will need to adopt as Teach for America "Corps Members."
The phrase closing the achievement gap is the cornerstone of TFA's general philosophy, public-relations messaging, and training sessions. As a member of the 2011 corps, I was told immediately and often that 1) the achievement gap is a pervasive example of inequality in America, and 2) it is our personal responsibility to close the achievement gap within our classrooms, which are microcosms of America's educational inequality.
Those who don't have sex during their teen years are in the minority, but the reasons for—and effects of—waiting differ for everyone.
Keith McDorman walks into the back room of an Austin, Texas coffee shop. With his dirty-blond hair, light eyes, week-old beard, and striped button-down shirt, he looks like a younger, shorter, bohemian version of Bradley Cooper. He tosses his scooter helmet onto the wooden table, sits across from me at a booth that barely fits us both, and talks before I ask a question.
“My mind doesn’t comprehend how much sex I have,” says McDorman, a 29-year-old carpenter from southern California.
That statement brings glances from studying college students. We opt for more privacy by heading outside, where we talk over a live rock band at a high table near a vegan food truck. McDorman continues by telling me about a conversation he had recently with his girlfriend, in which he expressed fear that his libido had dropped. She laughed, since, well, they had had sex six times that week.
A long time ago, beds were expensive—but there's more to it than that.
With a guest in town occupying the second bedroom of our Manhattan apartment, my three-year-old son, a notorious sideways sleeper, bunked with my pregnant wife and me. Too many snores and little feet in the back of my neck, I relocated to the sofa, where I was blessed with the best night’s sleep I’ve had in months.
As a self-diagnosed insomniac, a good night’s rest for me lasts anywhere from three to five hours. I generally break up the slumber with walks around the apartment, followed by lying awake and unearthing inconsequential paranoia that, come morning, will not live up to the hype. When I hear people claim they get eight hours of sleep each night, they might as well be talking about the Loch Ness Monster, or alien life. All three are things I suppose it’s possible someone may have encountered, but I cannot personally confirm their existence.
The Democratic insurgent’s campaign is losing steam—but his supporters are not ready to give up.
SANTA MONICA, Calif.—This is how a revolution ends: its idealism tested, its optimism drained, its hope turned to bitterness.
But if Bernie Sanders’s revolution has run aground in California, which will be one of the last states to vote in the Democratic primary on June 7, he was not about to admit it here, where thousands gathered on a sun-drenched high-school football field of bright green turf.
“We are going to win here in California!” Sanders said, to defiant cheers. In the audience, a man waved a sign that said, “Oh HILL no!”
This is Sanders’s last stand, according to the official narrative of the corrupt corporate media, and if there is anything we have learned in the past year, it is the awesome power of the official narrative—the self-reinforcing drumbeat that dictates everything.
Finally, an explanation for Bitchy Resting Face Nation
Here’s something that has always puzzled me, growing up in the U.S. as a child of Russian parents. Whenever I or my friends were having our photos taken, we were told to say “cheese” and smile. But if my parents also happened to be in the photo, they were stone-faced. So were my Russian relatives, in their vacation photos. My parents’ high-school graduation pictures show them frolicking about in bellbottoms with their young classmates, looking absolutely crestfallen.
It’s not just photos: Russian women do not have to worry about being instructed by random men to “smile.” It is Bitchy Resting Face Nation, seemingly forever responding “um, I guess?” to any question the universe might pose.
This does not mean we are all unhappy! Quite the opposite: The virile ruler, the vodka, the endless mounds of sour cream—they are pleasing to some. It’s just that grinning without cause is not a skill Russians possess or feel compelled to cultivate. There’s even a Russian proverb that translates, roughly, to “laughing for no reason is a sign of stupidity.”
A 1979 book on presidential selection inadvertently predicted the rise of Trump—and the weakness of a popular primary system.
Predictions are dangerous business, especially in the hall of mirrors that American politics has become. Suffice it to say, no one called this U.S. presidential election cycle—not Trump, not Sanders, not any of it.
Except, perhaps, in a round-about way, a 1979 book about the presidential-primary system. James Ceaser, a University of Virginia professor, outlined the history and potential weaknesses of various nomination processes, including one that largely relies on popular primaries. Starting in the early 1970s, Democrats and Republicans began reforming their primary-election processes, transferring influence over nominations away from party leaders to voters. This kind of system is theoretically more democratic, but it also has weaknesses—some of which have been on display in 2016. When I spoke with a couple of conservative political-science professors about their field last month, one of them remarked, with just a hint of jealousy, “I expect Jim Ceaser to take a victory lap around the country saying I told you so.”