The boy who knew too much: a child prodigy

The birds and the bees.

2012-01-27T23:58:00.001+08:00

It is ever illuminating to see the world through a child’s eyes. Once grown up, this is quite a challenge, however, as a parent, all I have to do is listen, to know again, the thoughts of a child and their perspectives on the world.

Today, Fintan, eight, approached his mother in a reflective mood. His voice was soft and insightful.

“Mummy,” he began, intently, “I think it is harder to be a girl...”

Her ears perked up and her eyes gazed down on her middle son.

“...because girls have to give birth.”

She was touched by his words, for she learnt, in that moment, that her son understood what every mother goes through, to create their children. To have such appreciation, from her young son, was warming indeed.

I like seeing my children come to their own understanding of the world. More interestingly, I like to see them come to their own views on it – to see them weigh issues and come to judgements. Usually, I let them come to their own views, and do not impose mine. It is much better for a child to think their own thoughts and form their own view on the world. It is also much more interesting. Children who have been indoctrinated too much – as some children are – are always so dull. It is much more refreshing to hear a child’s genuine thoughts, based on their own personal thinking – and that is what I hear, everyday, in my household. I wouldn’t want it any other way. Today, Fintan made my wife very happy – simply because he shared one of his own thoughts. Beautiful.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

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I also write of gifted education, child prodigy, child genius, adult genius, savant, megasavant, HELP University College, the Irish, the Malays, Singapore, Malaysia, IQ, intelligence and creativity.

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A cat called Cow.

2012-01-24T21:44:00.002+08:00

Until sometime last night, we had a cat called Cow. It was a black and white cat, with patches of each colour, like a cow. Hence, my kids chose that name for it. It was a young cat, perhaps 9 months old. She had an adorably sweet personality and was very warm and seemingly loving, nudging adults and children alike, as it to say hello. Of all her mother’s kittens, she was the one who liked to stay closest to her mother. This morning, my son, Fintan, 8, found her dead.

It was a bit of a shock to be told this news. You see, we have four young cats, who were dumped on our doorstep by their mother. Of all the four, Cow was by far the most charming. In fact, she was the only one that seemed to have its own true personality. The others were mainly just hungry and out for food the whole time. We had planned to give the other three away, and keep Cow. So it was unwelcome news to see Cow stretched out stiffly on the ground, upside down, with her chest exposed, as if arching in pain, her mouth open in a grimace of surprised agony.

Upon her chest, there was an oval wound, about an inch across. Something had put a hole in her chest, on the underside. Had she been bitten by an animal? Had she fallen on something sharp? It was all the more surprising to see her dead like this, since we had seen her alive only hours before.

The children stared at her unmoving body in silence, as we prepared to bury her. My wife’s father was here. He had dug a rectangular hole in the garden for Cow – a little grave. All the children stood around eyes fixed on Cow. They were unusually quiet. Cow didn’t look quite real anymore. She was completely stiff and looked like a stuffed toy – not an ex-cat, at all. The absence of life, made her look as if she had never been animate. She simply looked like an artist’s impression of a cat – and not a very convincing one at that. It is funny what death can do. It makes even the most living animal, look rather unreal. I was struck, then, by what had made Cow such an interesting cat. It was her personality – the way she moved, what she did, her seeming intentions and the general impression of warmth in her actions. All that was gone. Without her animating personality, Cow did not even look like Cow anymore. She looked like a cat shaped black and white object, with a pink hole in her chest.

We buried Cow, in silence and replaced the turf on top of her. The boys didn’t say anything. I don’t think they knew what to make of it all. This was their first direct acquaintance with death. I don’t think they have ever seen a dead mammal, or human, before. Cow had been their favourite cat. In all, I think they took it very well, though I could tell they were a bit shocked, since there had been no forewarning.

Last night, I had heard dogs barking, rather aggressively at about 3 am. Perhaps that was when Cow was attacked and died. Had the dogs come onto our property or had Cow wandered onto theirs? We shall never know. It was clear though that she had dragged herself back to her favourite spot in the garden and died near where we used to feed her. She had come home, for her final moments.

I was going to write about Cow a long time ago, because I thought her funny and endearing. I never expected the first time to write of her, would be of her early death. Reflecting on why she died, rather than any of her siblings, I think it may very well have been her colouration. The others were shades of brown and would be difficult to see at night. She was black and white and would have been easy to spot, at night. I think that which made her beautiful to look at, may also have cost her, her life.

My wife Syahidah reassured Fintan. “Cow has gone to Cow heaven to meet all the other “cows”.”

He smiled at that, finding it either a comforting or a funny thought. It wasn’t clear which.

Thank you, Cow, for being so sweet and making us all smile, at your warmth. My sons, in particular, will miss her, though my wife and I will too.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

Are actors dumb?

2012-01-23T16:28:00.002+08:00

It is not difficult to find someone who believes actors are dumb. Indeed, some actors encourage this impression by the kinds of interviews they give. However, my experience, in the past, with actors, is that, in general they are bright – at least the ones I worked with are. What makes film-making interesting, as much as anything else, is the conversations to be had, with the other cast members, during breaks in filming: why? Because they are relatively smart.

Now, my personal observation that actors seem smart and make for good conversationalists, has some interesting scientific backing. Satoshi Kanazawa, an evolutionary psychologist at the LSE found, in his research, that attractive people have higher IQs than unattractive people. The average discrepancy was 12.4 IQ points – which is really quite a lot. The disparity was greater for attractive and unattractive men, with the difference being 13.61 IQ points. For women the difference was 11.39 IQ points.

It is not much of a leap to see that this supports my personal experience that actors are relatively bright. You see, to be cast as an actor, in a film, one usually has to be more attractive than the average person. Thus, the cast of a film will be selected for attractiveness and will be superior in that respect. Since attractiveness and intelligence have a correlation of 0.381, there will be a tendency for the more attractive actors and actresses, to also be smarter than the average person as well. Hence, my experience that they make for good conversation.

So, the next time you hear someone call actors “dumb”, you might just like to point their way to Kanazawa’s research on attractiveness and intelligence. If an actor or actress is good looking, they are also likely to be relatively intelligent, too – or at least 12.4 IQ points above their unattractive peers, anyway.

Satoshi Kanazawa made a very interesting point in an article he wrote for Psychology Today. He noted that the correlation of intelligence and attractiveness was exactly the same as the correlation of intelligence and education...0.381. Thus, he pointed out, quite tellingly, that you are as safe to make a judgement on someone’s intelligence from an assessment of their attractiveness, as you are from knowledge of their education. That struck me as rather interesting. So, all you have to do to see whether someone is likely to be intelligent is to judge whether are pretty or handsome!

Please note the limitation on this. The mean difference in intelligence between the attractive and the unattractive was only 12.4 IQ points. It wasn’t 50 IQ points. So just because someone is pretty, that doesn’t mean they are a genius, too. However, it does mean that they are less likely to be seriously dumb – and that they are more likely to be a genius than someone who is less attractive. Appearance is just one more useful characteristic for assessing how intelligent people are.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

A way with words.

2012-01-20T22:48:00.003+08:00

Fintan, eight, is a young boy of much whimsy. I am particularly fond of the way he expresses himself, with words, coming up, as he does, with striking expressions at times.

A couple of days ago, Tiarnan had been off school for three days in a row, sick. Fintan stood appraising his younger brother, then 5, with a somewhat cynical gaze.

“He’s coughing for freedom.”, he remarked, tellingly, on noting yet another seemingly theatrical cough from Tiarnan.

I had to laugh. That little sentence said so many things at once, about his outlook on Tiarnan’s situation. It had an admirable semantic density to it. As you probably note yourself, it spoke of Fintan’s belief that Tiarnan was not really sick and that his coughing was faked for the purpose of getting off school – and thus being “free” from constraint. Hence he is “coughing for freedom”.

It should be said, however, that Tiarnan did genuinely have a cough and a wheezy chest, which had woken him up in the night – so, as parents, we were not entirely mugs to allow him off school. However, Fintan believes otherwise, perhaps because Tiarnan is able to cough apparently on cue, when attention is upon him.

Fintan has made no indication of being interested in becoming a writer. However, as an observer of him, I have noticed that he is able to encapsulate thoughts in a pithy way and that he has his own characteristic style of expression. Furthermore, he likes to play around and joke with words, twisting their meaning to comic form. So, even though he hasn’t said he wants to be a writer, I do think it possible that, one day, he may very well be one – or at least someone who finds a creative use for words in life.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

Genius and Obsession.

2012-01-17T18:15:00.003+08:00

All genius is obsession, but not all obsession is genius.

It is typical that ordinary people, without any real distinguishing characteristics, like to criticize, even attack, those who seem “obsessed” for their very obsession. There is a perception, amongst ordinary people, that there is something wrong with being obsessed. I think this view comes from a complete failure to understand what obsession is, what it can do and how powerful it can be, for intellectual growth.

There has never been a genius, in history, without an element of obsession, in their character. Indeed, I am quite sure that it is impossible to be a genius, without also being obsessed. How else would a person spend years, sometimes decades, wrestling with a particular problem or set of problems, or writing a particular lengthy work, be it literary, musical, scientific or other academic area? Without the impetus of obsession with the subject matter, it is not possible to consider that the genius would ever do the work at all. Only obsession could propel the genius over every obstacle to overcome all that stood between them and The Answer.

Obsession, far from being something undesirable, or “mad” even, as many an ordinary person seems to consider it, is, in fact, key to all genius. Without obsession, there can be no genius, there would only ever be “talent” – and talent never changes the world, substantially.

Ainan is obsessed with science. It is something to which he returns, daily. This, to me, is a very good sign. It is a hint that he is likely to continue to develop his scientific interests, until he is fully equipped to create interesting scientific works. He has that inner spark of motivation towards his subject, which all geniuses need.

I, too, have a certain obsession towards the matters of my interest. Indeed, I could not, for instance, have maintained this blog for over five years, without a degree of it. So, obsession has proven a blessing for me too. In this case, I am focussed on understanding the childhood of my children, the nature of genius and what it means to be gifted in a world which is not. Without that inner focus, I would not have written so extensively, or at such length, about these interests. I would have been like most others are – I would have touched upon them, then moved on to other things. Yet, then I would have missed the deeper understandings I have come upon. I would have skated superficially over my subject matter and never really come to understand it. Obsession with the subject matter has propelled me to deeper insights and more complete expressions of those understandings.

Many years ago, when I was in my twenties, I spent five and a half years writing a book – in fact, one of the longest books written in any language, at any time. Now, without a degree of obsession with the act of writing, I could not possibly have written that book. Again, we see that to be truly creative, to produce any work that requires years of attention, that a degree of obsession is necessary to that work. Without the obsession, there would be no creative work. So, unlike the chicken and egg problem, it is very clear which comes first, in the genesis of all creative works. First there is the obsession; then there is the creation. Without that first, inner psychological step of taking a profound interest – that is an obsession in – the work to be done, the work would simply never get done.

I hope to see each of my children become obsessed by something, in their lives. I hope to see them take profound interests in their own special worlds, whatever they may be. For in that obsession will they find what no-one else has seen and do what no-one else has done. Obsession will lead them to greatness, if they are so lucky to have that characteristic in them. There is hope for them. It is part of my character to become profoundly interested in that which grabs my attention and intellect. I rather hope that they all have inherited some measure of that character element, for nothing, not even great intellect, is more likely to lead them to greatness, in whatever they choose to do, than that they should hold some degree of obsession for it.

Perhaps, indeed, it is true to say that the world’s greatest geniuses are also the world’s greatest obsessives. Those with the profoundest interests, are also those with the profoundest insights. Those who see deepest, are those most driven to see at all.

So, the next time you note an obsessive interest in someone, do not mark them as “strange” or even “mad”, but see in them the seed of greatness, that is there. Their profound interest, could lead them to see something no-one has seen before and so change the world, in an unexpected way.

In a world without obsession, there would have been no Lord of the Rings and no Mozart’s Requiem, no Guernica, no Hamlet and no Mona Lisa. We would not have a Theory of Relativity, or even a Heliocentric solar system, nor a Theory of Evolution. All these great works, were created by obsessive men, working obsessively, their whole lives long, driven by a demon no-one else could ever understand. Yet, we have all benefitted from their obsessions, even though, in their lifetimes, many of them would have been thought of as “odd” or even been persecuted for their obsessions.

In a very real sense, our world has been built by obsessives – built by people with unremittingly profound interests in their areas of work, people who could not do but what they did. So, be at ease, parents all, if you see hints of obsessiveness in your children – for that tendency to obsession can, if properly harnessed, lead to great things. It only needs a productive focus – some subject area, which if regarded intently, can give up productive fruit. Consider this, also, no child without a degree of obsession, in their hearts, is ever likely to create anything worthy of remembrance, or indeed, to climb to the top of any profession. Only those who are obsessed, are most driven to achieve something of merit in this world, if only to assuage the inner demon, who drives them on. Those who lack obsession are doomed, in a very real way, to be mediocrities, since it is most unlikely that a person can reach the heights of any human endeavour, without being propelled by a generous dose of obsession. So, do not worry if you see this characteristic in your children – be pleased – for it has much promise in it.

It should be noted that the tendency to obsession with interests, that I write of, must be distinguished from “obsessive compulsive disorder”. They are not the same. The latter might force the sufferer to wash their hands a thousand times a day, or check the locks on their house a score of times, before leaving. This is not a productive compulsion. I speak only of those with the profoundest interest in their chosen subject matters. This is a very different phenomenon.

It would be interesting to hear from any parents who have noted obsessive interests in their children. Are your children intently focussed on things that interest them? Do they turn to these subjects again and again? Are they constantly learning in these areas, and building their prowess? Comments below please.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

Arfa Karim Randhawa, child prodigy, dies.

2012-01-15T16:09:00.004+08:00

Arfa Karim Randhawa, a Pakistani child prodigy known for being the world’s youngest Microsoft Certified Professional, has died aged just 16 years old. Without warning, on the 22^nd December, she suffered a severe epileptic fit and fell into a coma. On December 29^th, her doctors said there was no possibility of survival. They proved right. She died yesterday, despite showing seeming signs of improvement in the previous days.

Remarkably, perhaps, prayers were said for her by the Punjab Chief Minister Shahbaz Sharif and a number of other government officials commented on her demise, including the Prime Minister, Yousuf Raza Gilani. Her passing has occasioned a degree of national grieving, with public figures, such as the Muttahida Qaumi Movement chief, Altaf Hussain saying that Pakistan had lost a “precious talent”.

Arfa Karim Randhawa’s passing, before she could fulfil the life of promise that seems to have been hers, by birthright, is a harsh reminder of how fragile we all are and how suddenly life can come to an end, when we least expect it. Yet, there is also something of note about Arfa Karim’s passing: that anyone noticed or cared. I am sure that other 16 year olds in Pakistan were busy dying on Saturday, too...no doubt many did so – but the world simply neither cared nor noticed. It is Arfa Karim’s prodigiousness, her early show of talent, that brought her to the attention of Pakistan and the wider world. This explains an observation many have made: that child prodigies seem to die younger than other categories of exemplary people. I have often seen searches for this, arriving on my blog. Well, it is time, perhaps, to explain this seeming phenomenon. It is not what it appears. I don’t believe that child prodigies are fated to die young. It is just that when they do die young, people notice. I am sure that they die young no more frequently than any other type of person dies young. Being prodigious does not portend a short life. It portends the possibility of an unusually productive life, if the prodigy is given the right opportunities. Early death is not part of the seemingly Faustian pact. Arfa Karim Randhawa has died very young. We notice her death, because of her early achievement in computing. Had she lived an ordinary life, with ordinary achievements, no-one, but her family and friends, would have noticed her death. We would not then say that, “Non-prodigious children die young”. In just the same way, we cannot say: “Prodigious children die young”. They don’t. It is just that because of their early fame, they are noticed in a way that other early deaths are not. Of all categories of achievers, child prodigies come to notice earliest. Thus, the early deaths among them are noticed, which drags the average age of death down, for child prodigies. In other categories of achiever, early deaths mean they are not noticed or counted in for consideration: they are invisible, so they don’t bring the mean age at death, down.

Thus, although Arfa Karim Randhawa’s passing is very sad for those who knew her and, it seems, even for Pakistan, itself, it should not be seen as evidence that child prodigies die young. I am certain that they are, in truth, no more likely to die young, than is anyone else.

My condolences to Arfa Karim Randhawa’s family and friends. May she rest in peace.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

How to play computer games, Ainan's way.

2012-01-14T17:30:00.004+08:00

Ainan, my 12 year old son, has his own approach to computer games playing.

A week or so, ago, he remarked to me: “I have been editing the lightwarp in Team Fortress 2.”

That sounded rather technical to me.

“How do you do that?”

He looked at me, with mild surprise, as if I had asked “How do you count to ten?”

“It’s simple Daddy. You just open the vtf file and change the colour strip.”

As an explanation, that rather failed to allow me to understand how to do it. Clearly, however, he knew how to do it.

Ainan has been doing this for some time. Whenever he finds himself dissatisfied with a gaming experience, he opens up the code for the game – and recodes it to his satisfaction, producing a game that looks the way he wants it to.

When he first revealed what he was doing, I asked him:

“How did you learn that?”

“I taught myself. It is easy. You just open the code and it is very obvious what to do.”

I am not sure that this “obvious” task, would be that obvious to most.

Ainan has a sense for these things. He seems to have an instinct for how computers work and what to do to make them work the way he wants them to. This, it strikes me, should prove a very useful skill in a future world in which computers are going to become ever more dominant. What is particularly good about this interest of his, is that it is self-directed. He is teaching himself how to do these things, because he enjoys it. It is something which arises naturally out of his own curiosity and joy. This, of course, is the best way to learn something and the way most likely to give rise to productive fruit.

So, Ainan likes to play computer games, at home. However, his computer games tend to have been customised to his own, inner vision, of what they should look like. That he does this, makes me much happier that he is spending valuable time playing such games – for I know that, for him, they are a lesson in computing, as much as anything else. He has managed to turn computer games into a somewhat creative hobby and one that is teaching him a lot more than one might suppose. I have written one snatch of his conversation regarding computer games and their coding. I have only written this quote because it is one that I remember. Quite often, however, his comments are beyond recall, because they are beyond comprehension. They are just too technical to be readily understood, by someone outside the field, like me. I am content, however, to listen and admire his enthusiasm. That is the best thing a parent can do in the circumstances. I enjoy his enjoyment, even if I don’t understand the fullness of his comments on his interest.

It gives me great pleasure to see Ainan deepen his interests, in this way. If, sometimes, those interests become so technical as to defy ready understanding, then I am even more pleased – for it implies that his understanding has gone beyond that of an intelligent, but uninitiated layman.

Anyway, Ainan’s example has shown me that there can be unexpected lessons to be found, even in the most unpromising of places, if the child, in question, is resourceful enough to see something interesting to do with the material at hand. In this case...reprogramming the computer games, rather than just playing them passively.

Carry on gaming, Ainan...and coding, too!

Posted by Valentine Cawley

Dangerous music.

2012-01-10T20:16:00.002+08:00

Quirkiness of thought and expression is a much under-rated characteristic. For me, the quirky are more interesting than the merely intelligent. Indeed, many of the world’s most interesting creations come from the minds of the world’s quirks, as it were.

Today, Fintan, eight, was playing with a children’s toy, which I believe to belong to his young niece (about 3 years old). He turned it on, and pushed a button or two. Electronic music bellowed out from it. He smiled to himself and levelled it towards me:

“Watch Daddy, this machine will erase your whole mind!”, he announced, rather theatrically. He then set about proving it, calling up repetitive annoying tune after repetitive annoying tune, laughing to himself all the while. He repeated each short snatch of music for maximal mind-numbing effect, punctuating it only with the occasional cackle to himself.

Before he had actually proved the efficacy of the device, but by the time I had become convinced that it, indeed, had the power to “erase my whole mind”, I told him, firmly, but with tongue in cheek:

“Switch it off Fintan, it is beginning to work!”

He had mercy on me and switched it off. Unfortunately, little Tiarnan, five, who had no mercy in him whatsoever, took over and chose the most repetitive irritating tunes of all to play, repeatedly. He wasn’t playing it because he liked the music. He was playing it because he liked the effect on his Daddy. After much amusement – from him, alone, I might add – he finally switched it off, after I had begged him several times.

I think Fintan has found the answer to the mystery as to why three year olds are generally surpassed by eight year olds, mentally: it is those damned mind erasing devices they play with!

Posted by Valentine Cawley

A blend of the senses

2012-01-09T22:27:00.002+08:00

Firstly, I am sorry to my regular readers that I have not written for a few days. I have been very busy at the turn of the New Year.

Often times, I am grateful at my serendipitous choice of wife. We met by unexpected chance, one day, long ago...and I could not have known the fullness of her talents at the time of meeting, yet, it has proven a good choice in many ways one of which I am about to explain.

My wife complements me (note not compliments me!) in many ways. Where I am not so strong, she is – and vice versa to a great extent. So we are a good match for each other, if the purpose is to seek a wider range of abilities in a couple, than either has alone. One of the ways she is strong, is her sense of smell. Hers is uncanny. She can do things with that sense that I have encountered no-one else being able to do. But that is a tale for another post. This is one about my son, Ainan.

Luckily for Ainan, he has inherited some of my wife’s sense of smell, rather than just my own. This is a useful blend of the senses, because he shows a sensitivity to smell that I do not have. The other day, he remarked: “Every room in this house has a different smell.” Now, for someone with an acute sense of smell, that might be an unremarkable statement – but for me, it was certainly notable since the rooms of the house smell much the same to me. Indeed, if blindfolded, I would not be able to distinguish them, in that way: Ainan, however, could, no doubt.

Smell is very much a part of his experience. He has a strong sensory memory and anything can trigger it. He remarked, the other day, that a particular type of car noise, evoked, in him, a “flashback” to a smell of a friend’s car. He smelt it, again, as if it were there. So, for him (but not for me) smell is a very present sense. It is also one that he uses to evaluate his environment, relying on it in a way that I do not. For him, smell presents a landscape of different places to him, each with its own aroma. To me, only sight and sound do that.

Of course, this leads to one issue any future girlfriends of his will have to be careful about: the choice of perfume. I am rather sure he will have strong views about that. He might even prefer that they have no perfume at all – so that he can assess how they, themselves, truly smell. I know that was a very important factor for my wife...I rather think it will be so, for him, too.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

Genius, mortality and underachievement.

2012-01-04T17:44:00.003+08:00

Every genius who ever lived was an underachiever. By this I mean, they died with so much more undone, that they could have done, than they ever managed to do. Such is the effect of mortality on genius. It cuts off life, before the fullness of what could have been.

So, when we look back on genius, we are not seeing people as they could have been, we are seeing them, incompletely. Thus, we will always judge them as less than they truly were. Genius is always greater than the record of their completed work supposes.

Imagine, if you will, what Leonardo da Vinci would be doing today, had he lived. If his life was measured in hundreds of years, his creativity would have poured on, in every area, and made a body of work so much greater than he ever had time to do, in his 67 years. Indeed, at the end of his life, it is recorded that Leonardo da Vinci rued how little he had done in his life, of his work. Clearly, he felt that there was much more within him, that he never managed to make manifest. So, our vision of Leonardo, great as it is, accords him to be much less than he truly was and would have become, had he immortality and could still be alive and working today.

Properly speaking, therefore, the body of work of a genius, is just a hint of what they could do, given the possibility of less limited time. Thus, if we are to properly judge a genius, we must imagine what could have been, from the hints of what was. Doing this for some more fecund or profound geniuses, leads us to conclude that they would have been very much greater indeed, had they simply more time in which to become and create.

I hope to see a day, in which genius has more time to live and create. Such a time, would be a great one indeed, for it would afford the possibility of true realization of the talents of the world’s geniuses. Until then, we must satisfy ourselves with the scraps they have the opportunity to create in their short, mortal lives. Until then, we must also learn not to measure a genius by what they did, but by what they could have done, too, had they more time in which to live. Geniuses die with so much more within them, unmade, and unsaid, than they ever had time to create. Let us credit them, with the greatness their potential uncreated works imply, and learn to see them as clues to what would have been, had they not been, like all humans, merely mortal.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

On making a record.

2012-01-01T20:56:00.002+08:00

Childhood only happens once. My children will grow up and become adults in a time too brief to truly comprehend. I cannot believe that Ainan has just turned 12, for instance, a few weeks ago. He is getting so tall – indeed he is challenging his mother, in stature. Yet, to me, I still see the baby in him, first peering at the world, in infinite curiosity. It seems but an instant, in which his entire life has been compressed, and in which he has expanded to his present height, personality and intellect.

Childhood speeds by so quickly – it is like lightning – it flashes and then it is gone. That is why I have written, almost daily, these past five years or more, to create a record of my impressions of my children, as they grow up. I have no such document for my own childhood. Very few people do, I imagine. Yet, when my children are adult, I will be able to show them their childhoods, as I witnessed them, felt them, thought of them, all those years ago. That is why I write – and that is why what I write is important. It serves two primary purposes – it keeps those in our family and circle of friends, acquainted with the latest developments in our children’s lives and it also will, one day, become a source of much self-knowledge, for my children – for they will get to see themselves as they were seen, by me (and my wife).

Some people don’t understand why I write this blog – particularly strangers, who might read it. I have decided to make this a public blog, because I am a writer, too. My understandings of family life, are the material I draw on – and I am sharing that, as a means to express what I come to learn. So, in that sense, it forms a different kind of record – a record of my thoughts, on childhood, children and family. At the time of writing, this may not seem an important thing to do – but I think that, one day, it shall be of interest to those who are interested in my work. You see, I have written many things, too, that have not yet been published. Those works are likely to be of wider interest. People who like those books, may wish to understand their writer, better. They will find this blog of some value in that regard. So, to give perspective to my other works, I write a public blog, which can express something of who I am and what I understand. In time, there will be people who appreciate that I have taken the time to write, as I have. Of course, some people already appreciate that I am taking the time, regularly, to write my thoughts, on many matters, not just family life.

It is my intention to record the childhood of my sons until they have grown up. I hope that they see value in the efforts I have made, one day. I know that I would very much value such a record of my own childhood, were it to exist. I cannot say who else will value these words. I write for those who do. Thank you.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

Happy New Year 2012!

2012-01-01T14:46:00.003+08:00

I would just like to wish all my family, friends and other readers, a very Happy New Year for 2012.

The year that has just passed has been a good one, in general, for us, on several fronts and the year to come promises to possibly be even better. I hope it is, too, for you all.

Best wishes.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

Ron Fouchier and the end of the world.

2011-12-28T19:53:00.002+08:00

Will Ron Fouchier’s curiosity and, it seems ego, end the modern era? Dr. Ron Fouchier is a virologist at the Erasmus Medical Center in Rotterdam. He is also the creator of, most probably, the most deadly virus ever seen on Earth.

Ron Fouchier has mutated the bird flu, H5N1, into an airborne form, that transmits easily from host to host – and would do so, too, in humans. If his virus were ever to be released into the world, it would kill 50 to 60% of all who caught it: billions of people would die. Civilization itself might fall, in the chaos and terror of such a pandemic, in which simply breathing the air, breathed out by another, some distance away, would be enough to kill.

Apparently, it took, we are told, just five mutations, to change ordinary bird flu – which kills over 50% of those infected, but rarely transmits between people – into an easily transmissible airborne version, that spreads as easily as any other flu – but which is up to 30 times as deadly as the Spanish flu of 1918, which only killed 2% of those it infected.

Truly, this virus is a potential doomsday weapon. Yet, it is held in a special room at the Erasmus Medical Center, in Rotterdam. Should it ever be leaked, billions could die as a result. Richard H. Ebright, a bioweapons expert at Rutgers University commented that there had been hundreds of unintentional leaks of potential bioweapons from US labs – and regarding airborne H5N1 he opined: “It will inevitably escape and within a decade”. Should it ever do so, Ron Fouchier would become the most destructive person in human history. His work would have killed billions of people.

There is only one justification for the kind of work Ron Fouchier has done. That is if this work leads to a means to defeat this illness and prevent it ever becoming a pandemic. However, now that he has created it and spoken of its details at public meetings, it is likely that others will recreate the work. As similar viruses are created elsewhere, the chances of an accidental or deliberate leak escalate. The race, therefore, is now on, between those who would defeat this potential pandemic, and those who would unleash it, accidentally or deliberately.

Oftentimes, it seems that modern man does not have long in this world. We have the intelligence to create powerful technologies, but not the wisdom, as a race, to use them wisely. Ron Fouchier’s work could lead directly to the downfall of modern civilization. Were 60% of people to die, days after being exposed to no more than a sneeze, I very much doubt whether the fabric of civilization would hold – it would rupture into utter terrified chaos.

The real danger of Ron Fouchier’s H5N1 work is that now all the world’s terrorists and unhinged haters of humanity, will know that it is possible to create an airborne H5N1 – by simply announcing that, he has ensured that many others, around the world, will try to do so. Even if these groups don’t deliberately release it, simply by working on it, they greatly increase the chances that it will be released accidentally. Then again, there are foreign powers who might consider releasing such a virological agent. What might North Korea, for instance, do with such a virus? Would they consider it reasonable to lose 60% of their own population (which they don’t seem to have much love for), so as to kill 60% of the rest of the world? Some unstable nation, somewhere, might make that calculation and make a fateful decision.

The onus is now on Ron Fouchier and all the virologists familiar with his work, to create a vaccine against H5N1, or to derive some other means of defeating it. If this is not done, the time might come, after the modern era, when the name Ron Fouchier is remembered for all the wrong reasons.

I am struck by the hint of a self-satisfied smile that seems to adorn all photos of Ron Fouchier that I have seen. I am not sure whether I am reading him wrongly or not – but he does seem to be rather impressed with himself. Personally, I wouldn’t want to be potentially responsible for the death of 60% of humanity and the fall of the modern era – yet that is precisely the potential of the work he seems so smug about.

Now, that you have made the virus Ron, you have a responsibility to learn how to defeat it. Only then would you truly deserve a self-satisfied smile. Only then, will humanity be able to relax, before its impending fate.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

Fintan's very own season's greetings.

2011-12-25T22:25:00.002+08:00

Fintan, 8, is a young boy of much whimsy. He has his own particular way of expressing himself that often leads to bizarre, or comic results.

Today, I phoned home to the UK to let my children speak to my parents. Just before the phone call went through, Fintan made a remark, which the others paid particular attention to.

I asked the boys to sing my parents, the song that begins: “We wish you a Merry Xmas...”

My father answered the phone.

The boys duly began singing.

“We wish you a HAIRY Xmas, we wish you a HAIRY xmas, we wish you a HAIRY xmas and a Happy New Year!”

“Could you hear them?”, I asked my father, wondering if he really had.

“Yes. They were wishing me a Merry Xmas.”

He seemed quite pleased at their singing.

“No.”, I said, “they were singing you: “I wish you a HAIRY Xmas...””

He laughed. “Oh were they?”

He turned to my mother, to explain what they had done.

Now he seemed even more impressed.

I have no doubt it was the first time, in my father’s life, that anyone had wished him a Hairy Xmas. That was what Fintan had remarked upon, before I put the call through. He is always coming out with off the wall remarks and reinterpretations of things he sees and hears. It is refreshing to hear his thoughts.

As for me, it is certainly a Hairy Xmas, since I have a beard at this time.

Anyway, in the spirit of Fintan, I would like to wish you all a Hairy Xmas, and a Happy New Year.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

Supermemory in a child.

2011-12-23T02:24:00.001+08:00

My spell check tells me that “Supermemory” is regarded as a neologism by Microsoft. Yet, it is an apt description of what I am to describe.

Six months ago, Ainan played the game Portal 2, with his brothers Fintan and Tiarnan. This is a spatial puzzle game, set in a future, technologically advanced world. They played it to completion over a few days. Six months later, Ainan made a joke referencing the game. I didn’t understand him. So, to explain to me what it meant, he decided to recount his entire experience of the game, from the beginning to the point in the game where his reference took place. This point was somewhere in the middle of the game.

Ainan began by explaining what happened in each room, he detailed the plot points for that room. He told me what one must do and how to do it to solve the puzzle in that room. He even recounted for me what was said by the characters in the room – and remarked on the humour in each joke. He went from room to room, in the game, puzzle to puzzle, solution to solution, joke to joke, quotation to quotation, telling me what the game experience was like. He spoke rapidly, as is his way. He described what each room looked like and remarked on the atmosphere. In a way, he was trying to convey the full experience o f the game – a very visual experience, in words.

Now, I didn’t have a watch on me, but it seemed to me that he took at least 20 minutes to describe the game, to the point in question, perhaps somewhat longer. I didn’t interrupt him, not because I was interested in the game, but because I was amazed at the detail of his recall of the game, six months after he had played it.

I listened to him, with a growing sense that what Ainan could do, was very special, if misapplied in this case. He could recall a computer game, one rich in words and image, in complete detail, half a year after he had played it. He recalled it in the correct order, to solve the overall problem that is the game. For me, it was a revelation just to listen to him and compare, in my own mind, how poorly the average person would be able to do the same task, so long after the experience.

A computer game is a trivial matter. Yet, the same ability to recall in detail, that Ainan has, can be applied to anything in life. This should serve him well. Anyone who can remember his lived experience in such detail, has a great advantage over the typical person. I only hope that he uses it for more meaningful ends, in the long run of his life, than recalling how he played a videogame!

Anyway, that he can do this with a computer game, does offer some insight into how he has been able to achieve so many academic feats, so young in his life. No doubt his heightened ability to learn and remember, is of much use to him there.

I am aware that, as I write, and try to describe the experience of listening to him recount his experience of the game, that how I felt, has not been captured by the words. My overall feeling was a combination of startlement and admiration. With the former feeling, rather oddly, growing as he spoke, in tandem with the latter. The oddest aspect of it, perhaps, is that I should have been startled at all, given how much I already know about Ainan. It is just that I really didn’t expect him to have noticed a computer game, enough, to be able to recount it in such a fashion – very few people would, I feel, be able to do such a thing. The other aspect which I have not really conveyed well, is the speed of his retelling of the game...it was such that I had to pay very close attention to him, to be able to understand him at all. He leapt on each word, thought and memory, with such energy and vigour, that that alone would be enough to surprise most people. It made me smile a little to see him so – to see his passion, his interest and his love of this experience he had had. Clearly he had enjoyed it very much.

There was another aspect to his retelling which should be remarked upon – and that is Ainan’s unawareness that what he was doing was in any way unusual. He had no idea, that his detailed recall would be regarded as atypical. He spoke as if it were the most normal thing in the world. The thing is, it was – for him, but for no other.

When he got to the point in the story that allowed an understanding of the joke he had made, he came to a halt.

“Thank you Ainan.”, I said.

He smiled a little to himself. Perhaps, I had given him something by listening to him for the past 20 minutes, or half an hour. I had certainly given him what every parent should: patience. Not once did I interrupt him, or show signs of disinterest. I just listened, knowing that it was important for him that I did so. Yet, it was important for me, too, because it allowed me to witness another aspect of his intelligence, at work. It allowed me to come to understand him a bit better through this example of his mind at work.

The best way to come to know one’s children, is to listen to them. I did that, for him, that day...and learnt a lot more than his mere words related.

Thank you Ainan, for taking the time to explain to me, your thought.

Posted by Valentine Cawley.

How to identify a person with your eyes closed.

2011-12-17T22:20:00.002+08:00

Ainan is a boy of many peculiar talents. He can do things which, at times, seem uncanny. A few weeks ago, he gave me insight into one of these quirks.

I had just walked into the kitchen with an empty cup in my hand.

“I knew it was you, Daddy.” He began, as if an expectation had been fulfilled.

My eyes queried him in silence.

“You see I always know who it is, if they are carrying a cup – because both you and mummy move in a different way, and so the cup clinks differently.”

I was not surprised, not because this was not surprising but because I was used to being surprised by him. Thus, I was unsurprised to be surprised, by this latest revelation.

If there is one thing that sets Ainan apart from others, besides his intelligence, it is his perception: he is so acute in his observational ability that it is, at times, a bit like living with Sherlock Holmes. He does things with his senses that one might only expect to find in Marvel comic fiction. Yet, he does it so naturally, so casually, and so effortlessly. This, of course, only emphasizes the uniqueness of his perceptions.

I walked across the kitchen and set my cup down carefully by the sink, with a new appreciation of just how much my cup was telling about me – at least to Ainan, anyway.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

Imperial wealth in the eyes of a child.

2011-12-13T00:12:00.004+08:00

Today, we watched Dan Cruickshank’s Adventures in Architecture. This episode concerned, among other structures, The Catherine Palace, the Rococo summer palace of the Russian Tsars.

Tiarnan, five, watched as the astonishing interiors of this unbelievably ornate palace paraded across the TV screen. Gold and amber, and every possible variation on the word “opulent”, assailed our eyes. Not that alone, but the sheer vastness of the place, was astonishing, with one corridor being 325 metres long, before the Empress could be reached. Throughout it all, Tiarnan watched in silence. Finally, however, he spoke up.

”It is no good to live there.”, he began, quietly, with an authority out of proportion to his size.

All eyes turned to him for explanation.

“It is not a good place to play.”, he elaborated, his eyes flicking to the screen where the story of splendour continued to unfold. “Too much glass.” He looked utterly unimpressed with the wealth on display. Indeed, he seemed to think it silly: after all, who would build a house that couldn’t be played in?

“Should Daddy rent that house, to live in?”

He looked across at me, his eyes growing all very serious and shook his head, slowly, from side to side.

He had no words, but his expression was enough.

Even when given the option to live in such a palace, Tiarnan would choose not to.

At that point, Fintan piped up: “Choose somewhere else, Daddy. Not there.”

So it was not just Tiarnan who thought The Catherine Palace an inappropriate place to live – even Fintan thought so too.

This moves me to reflect: I wonder what little Tsars thought of growing up in such surroundings? Did they find them impractical, too? Or were they too busy being alone, in a very fundamental way, to care about where they lived?

It is lucky my kids don’t feel the need to live in a several hundred metre long palace. In fact, they tell me they rather like condominiums...a much more affordable accommodation.

It is funny to see my kids’ response to Imperial wealth. It left them rather unimpressed. This would have surprised the Empress Elizabeth – for her palace was expressly designed to awe and impress with her divine status. Well, in the case of my children, at least, she failed. It left them wondering at the silly impracticalities of it all.

Do my kids see more truly what matters, than some adults do? I would think most adults would be awed by The Catherine Palace and by the very thought that it was once someone’s home. Yet, if my children are any guide, kids see it very differently. They see it as a place barren of any fun...a place that cannot be played in. In a way, I think my kids see something adults miss. All that majestic wealth might impress some...but does it bring personal joy? Fintan and Tiarnan certainly thought not. What do you think?

Posted by Valentine Cawley

The deepest wish for the future.

2011-12-12T01:45:00.003+08:00

To have children, is to be a watcher of the future. To look on them, is to wonder what they might become, one day and to feel a duty to guide them or empower them , to be whatever they truly wish.

A couple of days ago, my wife Syahidah looked at me across the dining table.

“I hope our kids grow to be as patient as you.”, she began, her eyes looking deeply across the table and into the future, at the same time.

I was pleased to hear that implicit compliment.

“...and as tidy as me.”, she said, with a meaningful gaze.

I wasn’t so pleased to hear that implicit criticism!

I laughed though. “That is just like something Fintan might say.”

She smiled her agreement.

We see each other, in each other, every day, in ways little and large. Her remark had the comic structure of Fintan’s utterances – and no doubt, his had that structure, because of her. I felt the invisible bonds of like mindedness joining us, in that moment. We are each a part of the other, a partial reflection of each other. This is a fact of all families – but one too often not fully understood I feel. Every one of our children is a part of us, us a part of them. In their minds are thoughts we would recognize as like our own, feelings too, that we know so well.

I like this togetherness. It is what makes a family feel so different from any other random group of people known to each other. We are not just known to each other – we are like each other, fashioned from the very same cognitive and affective substance.

It is interesting to look at our children and see which elements of them come from my wife and which from myself. It is not difficult to see the jigsaw puzzle that they are, as a rearrangement of components within ourselves.

Considering her wish, I would say I have to agree. I hope they have my patience and her tidiness – the other way around just would not do at all!

One day, we will know. I look forward to that day and all the others, in which my children are becoming. It is a story of infinite richness, written before my eyes, daily. It is also a story I cannot, now, imagine, ever having missed.

Here’s to a patient and tidy future!

Posted by Valentine Cawley

The discerning logic of a child.

2011-12-09T01:31:00.002+08:00

Before I became a father, I was unaware of the wonderful, often deliriously enchanting logic, that children use. To be able to witness such logic, now, on a regular basis, is one of the more refreshing and rewarding aspects of fatherhood.

Today, Fintan, eight, made some remarks about food.

“Fish is seafood.”, he announced, to no surprise.

“Chicken is meat.”, he continued, again, in the same deliberate manner, with a slight air of puzzlement.

“...but birds are AIRFOOD.”, he concluded, with perfect logic.

I exploded with laughter. It was such an unexpected categorization – yet so apt, that I had no choice but to laugh. Why, I wondered, had no-one else, in all my life, so described birds? They WERE “Airfood”. Yet, no-one speaks of them as such.

The perfect, ineluctable logic of children, often leads us to understand the hidden truths in the world around us – the things which are always there, but which we are not able to see. One of them is “air food”...it is a thought that has been implicit in the structure of the English language, since the very first day someone described fish as “seafood”...but, until now, perhaps, no-one has ever said it. Fintan is the first, to my knowledge, to describe birds as “airfood”.

It is intriguing to observe that, although the logic is clear and implicit in the words and their relationship to each other, in English – that no-one actually uses the term “airfood”. This seems to suggest that we don’t, as a society, think too logically about what our language is suggesting. We don’t see what is implicit within it. Today, it took a young boy to see that logic and remark upon it. Fintan saw what no adult, to my knowledge ever did – the implicit categorization lying in wait in the language itself, waiting to be spoken.

Thank you Fintan, for your description. From now on, in our household, birds shall be known as “airfood” in honour of Fintan’s uncannily appropriate thought.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

Seeing the world with chemical eyes.

2011-12-07T19:28:00.006+08:00

At unexpected times, I am reminded that Ainan sees the world in a rather different way, to most young boys. He sees the world with chemical eyes.

A few weeks ago, I was out with Ainan. Now, anyone who knows Malaysia will know that there are open drains beside the roads, perhaps to offset the chance of floods. We had just come out of a Starbucks onto a quiet roadway, that ran along the shops. At the outer edge of the little road, was a wall. We stepped up onto the wall. Immediately beyond it, was a ditch all along the road, that acted a drain. Beyond that, was the main road proper, that we wanted to get to, in search of a taxi.

So, we stepped up onto the wall and jumped across the ditch, down onto the side of the main road beyond.

Ainan said nothing.

We spent some ten minutes trying to flag down a taxi – and being ignored by the very few which passed by.

“Let’s go back to Starbucks and call a cab from there.”, I suggested to Ainan.

So, we walked across the road, to the drainage ditch. With an effortful stretch, Ainan stretched his leg across the ditch and stepped up onto the wall.

Standing on the top of the wall, he remarked: “That was an endothermic reaction.”

He looked down at me. “...and when we came out it was...”

“...an exothermic reaction!”, I said filling in.

He had a point. To return the way we had come and go up to the wall, from down beside the drainage ditch, required an input of energy...hence endothermic. To come down off the wall, one only had to use gravity to do so...so, in a sense, energy came out, from one...an exothermic reaction.

I thought it was very telling of the way he sees the world that he should notice a physical and visual analogy to endothermic and exothermic reactions, whilst out walking around town.

Not for the first time, I was moved to reflect that children of his own age, would not grasp his thoughts, should he ever choose to express them, unfiltered, to them. Of course, he never really did that. With children his own age, he would select his utterances very carefully and never really reveal what he was truly thinking. He would decide to talk about something else, something more readily understood, than to actually make the remarks that came, unbidden, to mind.

For me, I was happy to have a glimpse of the way he interprets the world, as we crossed the ditch. He allowed me to see, for a moment, how he perceives, analyzes and understands the world. Of course, he did so, because he knew that I would understand his reference. Had I been another child, he would have walked in silence.

This incident is a simple example of his chemical perception. Often it is not so simple. Sometimes, I really have to reflect on what he has said, carefully, so elusive is it. At such times, I do wonder how many people he shall really be able to connect with, fully, in his lifetime. Such people would have to be quite unusual in their own way, I think. I do hope he manages to gather around him enough such people to feel properly connected to the world. In the meantime, I shall be there for him, when he chooses to speak his mind. I hope it is enough, for now.

Posted by Valentine Cawley

A tale of two guns.

2011-12-04T09:04:00.001+08:00

I read, with some recognition, of the sobering tale of David Lubin, an actor, who found himself in a perilous situation on set, recently. Mr. Lubin had been playing a masked gunman, whilst “shooting”, in Alpha Market, in the Cole Valley area of San Francisco. Unfortunately, for Mr. Lubin, a local resident was strangely observant and unobservant at the same time: they saw his gun, but didn’t see the camera crew attending to him. The local reported a crime in progress and the police responded.

Now, Mr. Lubin was not expecting real life police to turn up. When asked to drop his gun, under gunpoint, he froze and neither moved nor complied. Luckily for him, the police decided to disarm him, rather than shoot him. He was arrested – but not charged when the police found out the true situation.

I note that quite a few Internet commenters chimed in with remarks about police brutality, heavy-handedness and general stupidity. However, that is not what I saw in this situation. I see a remarkably and very fortunate restraint in the police response. Had the police been as they are so often portrayed, Mr. David Lubin would now have the credentials R.I.P after his name.

In contrast, I would like to remind you of the case of Kirk Abella, an actor in the British film “Going Somewhere” who went somewhere he didn’t expect: the afterlife. Kirk Abella was shot dead on a film set in the Philippines under almost identical circumstances. Kirk was playing a gunman on a motorbike, when a local resident reported a crime underway. A community watchman, Eddie Cuizon, gave chase and shot the actor in the back, when he saw a gun being drawn. The gun, of course, was a plastic replica. Cuizon gave himself up to the police when he finally understood what he had done. He was charged with murder.

Curiously, community watchmen in the Philippines are not even supposed to be armed. They are supposed to carry nothing more than batons. So, it seems that Eddie Cuizon took his own initiative to arm himself. No doubt that won’t look too good at sentencing.

These two tales make me reflect that David Lubin was very lucky indeed. He could so easily be a dead man, today. Worringly, the film that David Lubin had been working on, had all the right permits for shooting. Apparently, though, this information didn’t reach the policemen on the ground.

I hope that lessons are learnt from these two cases. Policemen should always try to make an arrest, of a living suspect, if at all possible and should not do as Eddie Cuizon – shoot first, and find out later what it was all about.

I am led to wonder how many actors, on film sets, have been harmed by the police, the world over. After all, most contemporary films seem to involve guns. So, out of the hundreds of thousands of fake gun crimes, on film sets around the world each year – how many of them lead to police intervention? It is a worrying thought. If anyone has the answer, please respond below.

Posted by Valentine Cawley