Robert I think of the two experiences the birth of my first child stands out more than the sight of a total eclipse. I think that may be also because of time both types discussed by you. My son was born when I was in my mid twenties I saw a total eclipse in my 60’s. While still wondrous I think that age dampens the wonder as well as an accumulation of experience. I can say sadly the birth of my fourth child while wonderful was not as exhilarating as the first.
> It starts with a bizarre coincidence: the moon is four hundred times smaller than the sun, but it also floats four hundred times nearer to us. This makes the two disks in our sky appear to be the same size.
> ...
> The moon wasn’t always where it is now, which makes the coincidence even more special. The moon has really just arrived at the “sweet spot.” It’s been departing from us ever since its creation four billion years ago ... the moon is only now at the correct distance from our planet to make total solar eclipses possible. In just another few hundred million years, total solar eclipses will be over forever.
The fact that such an aesthetic marvel exists only fleetingly — on a cosmic timescale at least — precisely during the period of time when we will be here to appreciate it, is only "bizarre" or "coincidental" for those who lack eyes to see...
I was present at the birth of my first son and then, 22 years later, watched the total eclipse with him. True story: my wife and I lived near the path of totality, so he and his fiancee flew in to see it. It was on my regularly scheduled day off, a nice coincidence-miracle in itself. We were almost at the state park where we planned to watch, when he noticed on the weather map that it was about to be covered by clouds; the age of Internet has some advantages when it comes to eclipses. So we wheeled about and went back about 40 miles to a little state historical park we had noticed on the way up: cloudless, and accompanied by only a dozen or so other observers.
Ms. Dillard's description is exactly right, only leaving out the dozens of bats that flew out of the woods at the moment of totality. And yeah, the homeward traffic was between bad and awful, but at that point who cared?
Dr Holmes, after noting that a turpentine smell dominated his out of body experience, would have been delighted to learn that the answer to the meaning of life, the universe, and all that, is 42.
I feel like you and Alanna chose well to skip the 2017 eclipse (and presumably today's).
The 2017 eclipse was my first and only experience of a total eclipse. It was spectacular. Watched it from a public park near Greenville, SC. Surprisingly, the park was not all that packed. Interstate 85, on the way home, was another story altogether.
I have always liked the comparison (adapted from Mark Twain) that a partial solar eclipse is to a total solar eclipse as lightning bug is to lightning.
Not at all. An emo’s stereotypical mien is depression and despair. Mine is happy, contented fatalism—calm amidst the storm. “Que sera sera,” not “oh woe is me.”
*Overly?* I didn’t realize that there were agreed-upon standards. I would suggest that you are *overly* invested in the analytical integrity of your taxonomy of stereotypes—and perhaps of your knowledge of economics itself. During a long-ago job interview process, a psychologist had me take a Myers-Briggs test. When he finished grading it, he grew testy and accusatory, telling me that I couldn’t possibly be an economist. I pointed out that I had been an economist, employed by top-tier organizations, for over fifteen years. He interrupted with “NO. It is simply not possible.” He explained that I rated higher on extroversion than anyone he had ever measured and therefore simply COULD NOT be an economist. End of interview process. Funny thing is that the job really required someone with both analytical and people skills. But, he had his little potted model of human behavior and of economics, and he could not step outside of that mechanistic contrivance. You may have an excessively narrow view of economics. There are many broad areas of the profession that accord with your unemotive stereotype. Other areas, however, are drenched with emotion and empathy. Those happen to be the areas that interest me the most. One of my grad students said my course in health economics should be titled “Ethics with Equations.” The historical antecedents are great. Adam Smith’s “The Wealth of Nations” is really a sequel to his “The Theory of Moral Sentiments”—a work that revolves around emotion and empathy for the emotions of others. If one does not know that side of economics, one does not know economics—or economists.
Cute. By an interesting (possibly) coincidence, only yesterday on another thread with someone else I was making fun of Myers-Briggs as horoscope-like, with these words:
No fortune-teller is going to make a living insulting the clientele.
Have you ever noticed how no matter what the results of one of these tests (Myers-Briggs, say) are, they are always described in complimentary terms?
In fact, it might be amusing to go through the 16 Myers-Briggs categories and describe each in equally accurate but uncomplimentary terms. For example: INFP
You are emotionally barren and cannot connect with others. You perceive the universe, if “perceive” is even the right verb, by arbitrarily “intuitions” that have nothing to do with the universe and everything to do with the way you feel. You are completely a slave of your feelings and wouldn’t know a thought if it somehow filtered through your brain. You never, ever, ever make a decision.
If all 16 were like that, nobody would have heard of Myers-Briggs; but it really contains the same information.
(I should perhaps add that INFP was randomly chosen; and neither I nor the person I was writing to would be Myers-Briggs characterized as INFP.)
I like this. Actually, though, after my experience with the psychologist-loon, I did some reading on Myers-Briggs and concluded that it has some subtle charms. Not long after, I heard a lecture by a scholar who studied tests like M-B and suggested that the tests have some value--but not for employers. He said the dark secret of such things is that they have zero predictive value as to how well a prospective employee will perform. They do, he suggested, tell you something about how the employee will like the work environment. Some time after, and HR official was trying to figure out why a department in which I worked was dysfunctional. I had my theory--incompetent assholes as managers--but she was searching for more clinical reasons. One of her comments was that to understand this department required one to understand that it was a solid phalanx of introverts. For me, this was an epiphany--telling me why I found the environment insufferable.
I purchased a couple of books on Myers-Briggs and read about the various type. And, contrary to your observation, it offered some negatives about each of the 16 types--warnings as to how each one would tend to fail. The book had a self-test for a quick guess at one's type. As a sort of parlor trick, I became highly adept at guessing my colleagues' categories. I would guess, they would take the test, and I usually got all 4 letters correct. At least 3.
One of our former managers had recently flamed out spectacularly (with my determined assistance) and had been unceremoniously sent packing in a hurry. Colleagues asked me to guess this employee's M-B type, and I did. We looked that category up in my book, and there was a quite detailed warning as to how this type was prone to fail at a job. To a spooky degree, the book described our ex-manager's downward spiral and ultimate implosion.
So, ever since, I've thought of these tests as suggestive and mildly interesting. But, as the scholar said, they are worthless contrivances from the standpoint of HR and employee hiring. The scholar painted a somewhat conspiratorial picture of M-B and other testing companies colluding with the HR community. A lucrative endeavor for both sides, paid for by gullible CEOs and the like.
It really does look rather like a signature that the sun and moon should be perfectly positioned for total eclipse just when there's a species around able to think about it.
Catching up on Substack after several weeks of travel (including to see the eclipse). So glad you got to see one! I think it's under-reported that to see it at 90+% is not anything like totality, not even close. I've now seen 3 and likely my last (1991 in Baja California on a cruise ship, 2017, and this one). In 1979 I lived less than 100 miles from totality but chose not to travel to see it -- if I could live life over again I'd go see it. Thank you.
2025. Spain or Iceland. Low on the horizon but probably watchable. 2026. The BIG one for this century. Egypt or at sea close by. Book now. Probably most spots are gone.
Robert I think of the two experiences the birth of my first child stands out more than the sight of a total eclipse. I think that may be also because of time both types discussed by you. My son was born when I was in my mid twenties I saw a total eclipse in my 60’s. While still wondrous I think that age dampens the wonder as well as an accumulation of experience. I can say sadly the birth of my fourth child while wonderful was not as exhilarating as the first.
Interesting set of variables at work!
> It starts with a bizarre coincidence: the moon is four hundred times smaller than the sun, but it also floats four hundred times nearer to us. This makes the two disks in our sky appear to be the same size.
> ...
> The moon wasn’t always where it is now, which makes the coincidence even more special. The moon has really just arrived at the “sweet spot.” It’s been departing from us ever since its creation four billion years ago ... the moon is only now at the correct distance from our planet to make total solar eclipses possible. In just another few hundred million years, total solar eclipses will be over forever.
The fact that such an aesthetic marvel exists only fleetingly — on a cosmic timescale at least — precisely during the period of time when we will be here to appreciate it, is only "bizarre" or "coincidental" for those who lack eyes to see...
It's like music, and color, and the thousands of other gifts that exist just because they do. Great thought.
Another great article, Dr. G.
I was present at the birth of my first son and then, 22 years later, watched the total eclipse with him. True story: my wife and I lived near the path of totality, so he and his fiancee flew in to see it. It was on my regularly scheduled day off, a nice coincidence-miracle in itself. We were almost at the state park where we planned to watch, when he noticed on the weather map that it was about to be covered by clouds; the age of Internet has some advantages when it comes to eclipses. So we wheeled about and went back about 40 miles to a little state historical park we had noticed on the way up: cloudless, and accompanied by only a dozen or so other observers.
Ms. Dillard's description is exactly right, only leaving out the dozens of bats that flew out of the woods at the moment of totality. And yeah, the homeward traffic was between bad and awful, but at that point who cared?
Thanks! Lovely memories.
Dr Holmes, after noting that a turpentine smell dominated his out of body experience, would have been delighted to learn that the answer to the meaning of life, the universe, and all that, is 42.
And of course, the often-forgotten question to which "42" was the answer was "What is 7 times 5." :)
I feel like you and Alanna chose well to skip the 2017 eclipse (and presumably today's).
The 2017 eclipse was my first and only experience of a total eclipse. It was spectacular. Watched it from a public park near Greenville, SC. Surprisingly, the park was not all that packed. Interstate 85, on the way home, was another story altogether.
Indeed!
I have always liked the comparison (adapted from Mark Twain) that a partial solar eclipse is to a total solar eclipse as lightning bug is to lightning.
I really love that!
Dr. Graboyes, you’re a bit of an emo, aren’t you?
Not at all. An emo’s stereotypical mien is depression and despair. Mine is happy, contented fatalism—calm amidst the storm. “Que sera sera,” not “oh woe is me.”
Wrong word, then. Serves me right for trying to use hip jargon. You are overly given over to emotion. Very odd in an economist.
*Overly?* I didn’t realize that there were agreed-upon standards. I would suggest that you are *overly* invested in the analytical integrity of your taxonomy of stereotypes—and perhaps of your knowledge of economics itself. During a long-ago job interview process, a psychologist had me take a Myers-Briggs test. When he finished grading it, he grew testy and accusatory, telling me that I couldn’t possibly be an economist. I pointed out that I had been an economist, employed by top-tier organizations, for over fifteen years. He interrupted with “NO. It is simply not possible.” He explained that I rated higher on extroversion than anyone he had ever measured and therefore simply COULD NOT be an economist. End of interview process. Funny thing is that the job really required someone with both analytical and people skills. But, he had his little potted model of human behavior and of economics, and he could not step outside of that mechanistic contrivance. You may have an excessively narrow view of economics. There are many broad areas of the profession that accord with your unemotive stereotype. Other areas, however, are drenched with emotion and empathy. Those happen to be the areas that interest me the most. One of my grad students said my course in health economics should be titled “Ethics with Equations.” The historical antecedents are great. Adam Smith’s “The Wealth of Nations” is really a sequel to his “The Theory of Moral Sentiments”—a work that revolves around emotion and empathy for the emotions of others. If one does not know that side of economics, one does not know economics—or economists.
Cute. By an interesting (possibly) coincidence, only yesterday on another thread with someone else I was making fun of Myers-Briggs as horoscope-like, with these words:
No fortune-teller is going to make a living insulting the clientele.
Have you ever noticed how no matter what the results of one of these tests (Myers-Briggs, say) are, they are always described in complimentary terms?
In fact, it might be amusing to go through the 16 Myers-Briggs categories and describe each in equally accurate but uncomplimentary terms. For example: INFP
You are emotionally barren and cannot connect with others. You perceive the universe, if “perceive” is even the right verb, by arbitrarily “intuitions” that have nothing to do with the universe and everything to do with the way you feel. You are completely a slave of your feelings and wouldn’t know a thought if it somehow filtered through your brain. You never, ever, ever make a decision.
If all 16 were like that, nobody would have heard of Myers-Briggs; but it really contains the same information.
(I should perhaps add that INFP was randomly chosen; and neither I nor the person I was writing to would be Myers-Briggs characterized as INFP.)
I like this. Actually, though, after my experience with the psychologist-loon, I did some reading on Myers-Briggs and concluded that it has some subtle charms. Not long after, I heard a lecture by a scholar who studied tests like M-B and suggested that the tests have some value--but not for employers. He said the dark secret of such things is that they have zero predictive value as to how well a prospective employee will perform. They do, he suggested, tell you something about how the employee will like the work environment. Some time after, and HR official was trying to figure out why a department in which I worked was dysfunctional. I had my theory--incompetent assholes as managers--but she was searching for more clinical reasons. One of her comments was that to understand this department required one to understand that it was a solid phalanx of introverts. For me, this was an epiphany--telling me why I found the environment insufferable.
I purchased a couple of books on Myers-Briggs and read about the various type. And, contrary to your observation, it offered some negatives about each of the 16 types--warnings as to how each one would tend to fail. The book had a self-test for a quick guess at one's type. As a sort of parlor trick, I became highly adept at guessing my colleagues' categories. I would guess, they would take the test, and I usually got all 4 letters correct. At least 3.
One of our former managers had recently flamed out spectacularly (with my determined assistance) and had been unceremoniously sent packing in a hurry. Colleagues asked me to guess this employee's M-B type, and I did. We looked that category up in my book, and there was a quite detailed warning as to how this type was prone to fail at a job. To a spooky degree, the book described our ex-manager's downward spiral and ultimate implosion.
So, ever since, I've thought of these tests as suggestive and mildly interesting. But, as the scholar said, they are worthless contrivances from the standpoint of HR and employee hiring. The scholar painted a somewhat conspiratorial picture of M-B and other testing companies colluding with the HR community. A lucrative endeavor for both sides, paid for by gullible CEOs and the like.
Anyway I stand corrected, Dr. Graboyes. You are emotional to exactly the correct extent.
And I beg your pardon for a personal remark. Actually, with the retraction, I guess it’s two personal remarks. No insult was intended by either.
Thanks!
It really does look rather like a signature that the sun and moon should be perfectly positioned for total eclipse just when there's a species around able to think about it.
It does! Early protozoans just didn’t care all that much about seeing the corona.
Catching up on Substack after several weeks of travel (including to see the eclipse). So glad you got to see one! I think it's under-reported that to see it at 90+% is not anything like totality, not even close. I've now seen 3 and likely my last (1991 in Baja California on a cruise ship, 2017, and this one). In 1979 I lived less than 100 miles from totality but chose not to travel to see it -- if I could live life over again I'd go see it. Thank you.
We few and proud who have seen one understand your regret. :)
2025. Spain or Iceland. Low on the horizon but probably watchable. 2026. The BIG one for this century. Egypt or at sea close by. Book now. Probably most spots are gone.