Nathanael Yellis

The boots and skis are all cleaned and in their closet; we packed up the chairlift snacks to avoid feeding summer mice; on Monday night we drove off into the sunset from another excellent ski season. My kids found new challenge and independence on the hill. They made ski friends and, on more than a few Saturdays, we set them loose for the day with a pocket sandwich and a walkie-talkie. We had a few long runs down through the trees and fields out beside the mountain, behind the house; we hiked to the summit when the lifts weren't running, skiing down alone; the older two tried the end-of-season pond skim. I mounted and remounted several sets of bindings on different skis, finally emerging with a lightweight uphill setup for ski touring. There were the usual ups and downs of praying for snow only to see rain and of thinking nothing was coming, only to ski in a snowstorm all day. What a pastime!

It's a week to think about religion. We're about to wrap Passover and are in the middle of the Triduum. Looking at the friends who subscribe to this weekly email, I think some of you are right there in the religious observances and more than a few aren't. That's ok. I'm not here to do too much proselytizing: this year, rather than go to our normal church all week, we're in western Maine at the familial ski house. Our Easter will be a little religious service and a lot of pond skimming and passholder BBQing. You could file this email under "D" for "do as a say, not as I do." But here are a few thoughts on religion nonetheless.

If you're even vaguely into politics, there's a lot to read right now. The sheer volume of political news is tremendous before you even start to read the smart columnists trying to help us make sense of it. While there's reason enough to read journalism and opinion pieces about those on the right currently in power, I think the more interesting stories are about the left. We're in such a seesaw of election cycles that reading about the politicians in their out-of-power wilderness is a preview of the folks who'll be running things in two or four years. (This is probably why the writing about right's internecine years after 2020 was so riveting.) There left has two distinct things going on: abundance and vibes. Both are worth watching and which wins may predict where we're headed.

If you're not listening to Valley Heat, I can't blame you, but you my sympathy. Even if we have the time for a podcast approaching the greatness of art, how can we possibly be expected to find it? The infinite scroll gives us so many off-ramps prior to a piece of truly unique work.

New York Times columnist Ezra Klein has popped up on a bunch of my usual podcasts over the last few weeks, part of his promotion of his new book (with Derek Thompson), Abundance. In his appearance with Tyler Cowen, a question was asked about religion, which, in his answer, Klein described is as a technology for doing something. In context, the use of "technology" made sense: Klein was describing the sociological losses we see with less religion. Put positively, Klein described religion as a technology for directing people's needs for belief, belonging, and service towards their best ends (certainly, politics is a cruder vessel for such desires). But describing our practices of faith as a social technology left a lingering impression that Klein has no idea what religion actually is. Just because its effects appear in society, reducing it to "social technology" is thin. Just because we can talk about it this way, should we?

We've had a topsy-turvy winter, which has meant both great snow for skiing along with some rain events and a surprising number of days too windy for the chairlifts to run. March 1st was such a day: from the overnight hours through until about noon, the gusts were over 50 mph and the chairlifts were off. Not great for a Saturday at the ski hill. Some people took to the internet to complain; some played board games; a merry band of us decided this was an opportunity to stick on our climbing skins and see what the side country held.

Happy Friday! I have three good reads for you: a conservative's reading of Taylor Sheridan discovers his work to be right-coded; an NYT writer finds problematic rehab profits in Kentucky; a massive fan of Cormac McCarthy discovers the scoop of a lifetime: McCarthy's secret mistress. Each piece was well-written and held my attention. On the surface, they have nothing in common. Upon reflection, I think a close reading reveals a common and instructive theme.

I don't really trust social science, what with their almost complete inability to replicate any results and endless stories about cooked data, but I always get a kick of out it producing a result I like. The science is this recent study, really a survey analysis, of knowledge workers self-reported experiences using AI for work. The title gives us a nice hint, with its 'reductions in cognitive effort', but the abstract has a quote that had me grinning like a madman:

Quantitatively ... higher confidence in GenAI is associated with less critical thinking, while higher self-confidence is associated with more critical thinking. Qualitatively, GenAI shifts the nature of critical thinking toward information verification, response integration, and task stewardship.

In 1965's "A Charlie Brown Christmas", Sally asks Charlie to take dictation for her letter to Santa. After some opening flattery, she asks Santa to please note the size and quantity of each item on her list or, if that's too hard, to please send cash, "tens and twenties." Charlie explodes and throws down the pencil. Sally says, "all I want is what I have coming to me; all I want is my fair share."