Really Ridiculously Thorough Notes

Recently I tried an experiment. My note taking method already involves trying to record every single claim a book makes- I added to that “record every thought I have about the claim.” This included information that bore on the claim (e.g. if the claim was “A wave of German Catholics emigrated to American colonies from 1720-1741”, my thoughts would include “wait, wasn’t Germany Protestant?” and “Germany didn’t have any colonies of its own”) , questions it raised (e.g., “what was the state of German Protestant immigration to American colonies?”, “what constitutes a wave of immigration?”, “how did they fund the travel?”) and potential implications (“They would learn to need English”). Obviously this would be incredibly onerous to do all the time; my goal was to see what changes occurred when I did it, and perhaps train the muscle so it would be easier to do so in the future.

For a test subject I chose Children in Colonial America, of which I had skipped the last three chapters because they didn’t bear on my overall question that much. However they were a much better size and format than my the next two books in my queue, and I’d be able to get to the meat faster because I’d already read the previous chapters.

You can see my notes for the book as a whole here, the experiment starts with Chapter 10

Day 1, Round 1 (Chapter 10):

  • Not a perfect experiment; I’d taken Ritalin for the first time in a while before deciding to run the experiment and it obviously altered the experience a lot.
  • I got through a pre-read (basically a non-exhaustive reading of the first and last few paragraphs) and two pages in 1.5 hours.
  • After 1.5 hours I was done. Could not continue with the experiment for love or money. I went on to work on a blog post about cat-mitigation strategies for an hour, so it’s not that the Ritalin quit.
  • Even explicitly giving myself prompts to write down *everything* I thought related to a claim, I would sometimes notice new thoughts well after I’d left a particular claim.

Day 1, Round 2:

  • Tried for a bit but couldn’t muster the energy to go really into detail like I did above.

 

Day 2, Round 1 (Chapter 10):

  • More intense than D1R2 but less than D1R1, finished early when I finished a chapter.

 

Day 3 and 4, Round 1 (Chapter 11):

  • Started (day 3) and finished (day 4) Chapter 11 of Children in Colonial America. Either something has changed in my capacity to this work, or the work showed me something was wrong with the chapter, even though I can’t put my finger on it.

 

Day 5 (Chapter 12):

  • Became irritated in the pre-reading phase, spent 2 hours writing a blog post about why the final paragraph signaled low quality.

 

Day 6, Round 1 (Chapter 1):

  • Coincidentally experimented with caffeine + theanine + MCT oil in the morning.
  • Published complaints about Chapter 12.
  • I wanted to extend the experiment- both the deep note-taking, and predicting work quality in the pre-reading stage. I have some books out from the library, but they’re full books, not anthologies, and I feel like stand-alone chapters give me faster feedback.
  • Discovered that Children in Colonial America is book 3 in a series on children in America, and there are three other books with the same editor on different time periods. This is great because it lets me minimize the changing variables as I continue the experiment.
  • Read Chapter 1 and deep note take Children and Youth in a New Nation (notes). I’m not able able to go quite as deep as in attempt 1, but then, Ritalin. Chapter 1 of CaYiaNN is one of those middling history works that doesn’t have an overarching thesis but knows it is structurally expected to have one, so makes a thesis out of its uncertainty: “Some people had a variety of experiences with X for a variety of reasons.” Become inspired to write Fake Thesis Vs Absent Thesis.

 

Both my note-taking process and the notes I took on it gradually declined as I attempted to read Chapter 2 of Children and Youth in a New Nation, culminating in going days where I couldn’t even push myself into reading. So… can’t say I recommend this. I’m working out other ways to approach the goal of contextualizing information as I read.

 

 

 

 

 

Fake Thesis vs. Absent Thesis

Yesterday I complained about a stand-alone chapter whose opening and especially closing paragraphs immediately made me think it was low quality, which was correct. Today I want to talk about something that looks similar, but isn’t.

The chapter I complained about was the last chapter in Children in Colonial America (affiliate link), but it turns out CiCA is the third book in a series on the history of childhood in America, all in the same format with the same editor. This lets me minimize variables as I compare chapters. Then as luck would have it, the first chapter of the first-published book, Children and Youth in the New Republic (affiliate link), was the perfect foil for Chapter 12 of Children in Colonial America.

Chapter 1 of …New Republic, “Boy Soldiers of the American Revolution: The Effects of War on Society”, demonstrates a fairly common pattern. The author has a bunch of data and no single frame to capture it all, so they say something like “X is a complicated subject. Different people related to it in a variety of ways for a variety of reasons.” In the particular case of Boy Soldiers… X is “boys/young men fighting for America in the Revolutionary War”, and the variety is “Some boys chose to fight for patriotism, material advancement, or to help their family. Some but not all did this against their parents’ objections. Other boys were forced to fight by their families over their objections.”

Or in more words

The factors that drew these soldiers into the service indicate the great diversity of experience in boyhood in revolutionary America. In the glimpses we have of them and their families at the moment of enlistment, we see that some enjoyed the care and protection of their parents while others suffered at the hands of mercenary ones. Some went to war against their parents’ inclinations while others were thrust into it over their own objections. A few boys thought that the army would be a more hospitable place than the places they lived or that it would be an escape from jobs that were tedious and frustrating. For many more, military service was an issue around which they could negotiate with their fathers when they wanted opportunities that could take them away from home. Some saw a real opportunity to contribute to the financial well-being of their families. They could do this either directly by turning over their pay or bounty money or indirectly by substituting for an older family member, allowing the more needed laborer to stay home, or by relieving their families of the need to support and feed them. A few, such as Josiah Brandon, were drawn by the cause itself to set their own course.

Boyer, Paul S.. Children and Youth in a New Nation (Children and Youth in America) (pp. 26-27). NYU Press short. Kindle Edition.

 

The chapter consists of first hand accounts of different boys enlisting in the army for different reasons, and some comments on the state of the evidence.

I could easily see a world where the same amount of actual facts, models, and and narratives led to both the theses of the style of Chapter 1 of CaYiaNN and Chapter 12 of CiCA, depending on writing skill and adherence to a guide book but independent of the quality of information or author understanding. “Iunno” and “A bunch of things happened for a bunch of reasons” are both good descriptions of a pile of data you don’t have a cohesive explanation for. If anything I’d expect “Iunno” to be associated with higher quality works, since it’s more honest. That’s clearly not happening in these cases, although obviously a sample size of two is too small to draw any conclusions.

 

Set Ups and Summaries

Part of the research process I’m developing involves reading and thinking through the first and last chapter of a book, and first and last few paragraphs of a chapter, to get an expectation of what’s to come (combined with some other stuff I call this pre-reading). I’m currently pondering how much you can get out of this, and specifically if it’s fair to reject a work because it failed pre-reading.

Pre-reading is in part derived from advice in How to Read a Book to find a books “Unity”, the idea being that you’ll better incorporate information into your understanding if you know how it connects to the author’s larger point. I objected to HtRaB’s advice on this topic in my review, because it seemed to be trying to enforce an orderliness that reality does not support. Looking for a unified narrative encourages the author to throw out anything that doesn’t fit their narrative, and the reader to ignore it even when it’s included. Even in situations where there is a fairly clear narrative you might not know it yet, and it’s important to be able to share raw data without prematurely deciding what it means.

Then I pre-read chapter 12 of Children in Colonial America (an anthology: chapters have a common theme but each is meant to stand alone), and my immediate reaction was “nothing with this ending is going to be any good.”  The chapter is discussing specific individuals down to the last paragraph, with no attempt to summarize what’s come before. The start is better but not by much- the last sentence of the first paragraph should clearly be the first, and the contextualization the rest of the paragraph provides should have come after, not before, when I know why I care what percentage of 1770s Boston’s population was made up of children.

The paragraphs in question:

Boston, the American Revolution’s “cradle of liberty,” was a town full of children. As in British North America as a whole, over half the population was under the age of adulthood. Children participated in political actions as early as Boston’s first public protest against the Stamp Act, on August 14, 1765: an organizer described “two or three hundred little boys with a Flagg marching in a Procession on which was King, Pitt & Liberty for ever.”1 The first Bostonian to die in political violence was a young boy. Apprentices both brought on and suffered in the Massacre of 1770, and pushed their way into the Tea Party of 1773. How did those children interpret the political conflict, and what motivated many of them to participate?

Children in Colonial America (Children and Youth in America) (p. 204). NYU Press. Kindle Edition.

 

When war finally came, the little boys who marched against the Stamp Act in 1765 were of prime age to be soldiers. Some younger boys took war as a chance to assume adult freedoms. On April 19, thirteen-year-old Benjamin Russell and several friends left their Writing School and followed the redcoat reinforcements out of town, attaching themselves to the provincial camp by the end of the day. Teenagers enlisted with and without their parents’ consent. Thirteen-year-old Daniel Granger of Andover was so small that when he was singled out for praise, his captain “sat me down on his Knees.”37 These boys took on men’s roles in the fight for liberty, leaving the symbolic battles of childhood behind.

Children in Colonial America (Children and Youth in America) (pp. 213-214). NYU Press. Kindle Edition.

Those opening and closing paragraphs clearly fail at the goals of orienting and summarizing the work. But a lot of my posts are kind of crap at that too. I’m writing about ideas in their preliminary stages in a way that forces a lot of the work onto the reader. I’m doing it right now, although I have spiffed up the opening and closing to avoid embarrassment. Maybe this author is doing that.  It’s not like having a good introduction and summary are a guarantee of quality. Chapter 11 of the same book does a great job telling you what it’s going to tell you and what it’s told you, but I am pretty dissatisfied with it in ways I am even less able to articulate.

Back on the first hand, maybe factual chapters in professionally edited books should be help to a different standard than blog posts describing bursts of an in-progress project. Maybe my scattered opening and closing paragraphs should cause you to downgrade your assessment of these post (although if you could keep in mind what I’m capable of when I’m prioritizing idea transmission, that would be cool).

I don’t think books/chapters/blog posts should be held to a single unifying narrative. But facts and models are a lot more useful connected to other facts and models than they are in isolation. The author making no attempt to do so makes my job harder- perhaps impossibly so given how little I know about the chapter’s topic.

Yeah, that feels quite fair-  this chapter might be very useful to people more familiar with the field, but that doesn’t mean it’s very helpful to me, a non-expert trying to bootstrap her way up.

A thing I would normally praise Children chapter 12 for, and did praise other chapters of the same book for, is providing a lot of concrete examples to shore up general assertions (e.g. “A large number of the trans-Atlantic slave trade was children” was followed by references to demographic counts from a large number of ships). But the information doesn’t feel quite right. For example, when describing the youth of men who enlisted in the American army, the chapter uses an anecdote about a 13 year old sitting on his commander’s knee. That doesn’t address the paragraph’s stated concern of “how did the Revolutionary War affect teenage boys’ options?” and it’s also a really terrible way of assessing the prevalence of 13 year olds enlisting. That’s one of those questions best answered by counting. And neither really belongs in the final paragraph of a chapter, which chapter 3 knew and chapter 12 didn’t.

Ah, this is a thing: tallies of thousands of people across dozens of ships is not really comparable to an anecdote about one 13 year old. The anecdote just isn’t useful data, except maybe as a pointer to where to find more data. Anecdotes have their place, but the bare minimum to make a compilation of anecdotes useful is knowing how they were generated. Are they representative? Slanted towards some group or ideology?

I’ll look like a real ass here if I don’t have a summary, but I’m still not sure what I’ve learned. I still think How to Read a Book is wrong to insist every book have a clearly defined Unity. I think Children in Colonial America Chapter 12’s opening and especially closing paragraphs signal failure on some level, although I am not absolutely certain what signal I’m picking up on. I’ve spent longer writing this and skimming the chapter than it would have taken to read it deeply, but that’s okay because it was a better use of my time.

 

The Purpose of Lectures

How to Take Smart Notes (affiliate link) posits that students who handwrite lecture notes gain as many facts and more conceptual understanding than students who type notes to the same lecture, because the slowness of handwriting forces you to compress ideas down to their core, whereas typing lets you transcribe a lecture without reflection. While I agree that translating things in your own words and compressing ideas is better than rote transcription, I have two problems with this.

One, it preemptively gives up on a practical question of which side of a trade-off is better without examining either the conditions or ways to improve the trade off. Given the enormous benefits of electronic storage of notes, maybe we should spend 45 seconds thinking about how to port the benefits of handwritten notes over, or under what circumstances the benefits of quick and high-fidelity transcription outweighs the push to engage more deeply with data.

Two, and this is harder to articulate… there is a reason students are defaulting to transcriptions of lectures, and it’s not because they’re bad or lazy or don’t like thinking. If lecturers actually wanted you to think conceptually about a topic, they would, I don’t know, leave any time at all for that in a lecture (my STEM background may be showing here. Movies tell me English class has more of this). As it is, conceptual understanding and translation requires that you stop listening to the professor- the dreaded multitasking thing that luddites are always going on about.

This is really a college student issue. On the rare occasion I’m trying to learning something from a live lecture, it’s still a non-mandatory event where the speaker cares about either actually teaching something or being entertaining, which solves a lot of these problems. But I’m angry that blame is being placed on students for acquiescing to what the system very strongly pushes them towards.

 

Review: How to Read a Book (Mortimer Adler, Charles Van Doren)

As part of my research on how to bootstrap understanding in a field, I’m reading books that attempt to answer that question. You might think I should have started with that, but it was useful to get a sense of what problems I needed to solve before I looked for the solution. How to Read a Book (affiliate link) is generally very well regarded in this area and came with a strong recommendation from the CEO of Roam, who I would expect to have pretty good thoughts on learning structure. Nonetheless, I was quite disappointed. It took me a long time to put my disappointment into words, but with the help of someone on Facebook I finally figured it out: How to Read a Book is aimed at a narrower subset of books than it acknowledges. What subset, you might ask? I don’t have a great answer, because the authors clearly consider the subset to be the only books, or the only books worth reading, so they didn’t leave a lot of clues. 

What I can say is that it expects books to follow a rigid structure, and to have a single unifying point (what they call “the unity”). This seems to me to be setting up both the author and the reader to throw out a lot of information because they weren’t expecting to see it or couldn’t fit it into their existing frameworks- reading like a state, in essence. This is not the only thing that makes me think HtRaB is more about being able to understand a book than understand the world, although it’s the only one I can articulate.

How to Read a Book didn’t even attempt to answer my current most important question in reading: How do I know what to save or pay attention to? More attentive reading (including but not limited to note-taking) takes more time and more mental effort. Even if it was free, every additional memory or note eats up space in my brain or exobrain and makes it harder to find other thoughts when I look for them. But I don’t necessarily know how important a piece of information is when I read it. Good pre-reading might help me know how important it is to that particular work, but never to my life as a whole.

HtRaB acknowledges that different works have vastly different returns to attention and you should allocate your reading effort accordingly, but I don’t feel like it gave me guidance for choosing what to pay attention to, and I have a suspicion that if I pressed the point the authors’ answer would be extremely in line with the literary and scientific canon of the 1940s-1970s.

My favorite section of How to Read a Book is also the most mechanically detailed: the algorithm for pre-processing a book (explained in detail here). I don’t know if this was the most useful to me because it was the most detailed or because a teacher once told me skimming was immoral and I needed that to be challenged.

For the meat of reading, How to Read a Book suggests questions to ask but not how to determine the answer. To be fair, this is hard. As I work on my own guide to reading I’m intensely aware of how difficult it is to translate the intentions and external appearance of what I’m doing to inner workings comprehensible to many, or even to other people very similar to myself.  I suspect there are people for whom reading these questions causes something to click in their brain and they suddenly start reading better, and that’s great, but it makes the book lucky, not good. Which is nothing to be ashamed of: sometimes a stab at a hard problem is worth more than a perfect solution to an easy one.  But HtRaB’s stab did not happen to hit my particular problem, nor contain enough deep models to let me make the stab myself.

My overall impression is that this is one of those books that is helpful if you read it at the right time and pretty meh otherwise, and it was the wrong time for me. I also predicted it would be one of those books that’s notable for founding a genre but goes on to be surpassed by later books that learned from it, but when I looked at Amazon I found very little. There’s lots on speedreading, confusing memorization with learning, and  “how to study to pass a test designed by someone else”, and I may end up reading some of those because the field is that sparse, but they’re not what I actually want. So if there’s a work you or someone you trust likes that attempts to answer any of the following questions, please share it:

  1. How do you find the most likely sources of relevant or useful information?
  2. How do you get the most (useful) information out of a sources?
  3. How do you decide what information to save?
  4. How do you save it in a maximally useful way?

I’m also interested if you have opinions on any of the following:

  • Mind Mapping: Improve Memory, Concentration, Communication, Organization, Creativity, and Time Management
    • Kindle Unlimited
  • The Lifetime Learner’s Guide to Reading and Learning
  • Extend Your Mind: Praxis Volume 2
  • How to Take Smart Notes
  • Accelerated Learning for Expertise: Rapid Knowledge Acquisition Skills to Learn Faster, Comprehend Deeper, and Reach a World-Class Level (Learning how to Learn Book 6) Kindle Edition
  • The Self-Learning Blueprint: A Strategic Plan to Break Down Complex Topics, Comprehend Deeply, and Teach Yourself Anything (Learning how to Learn Book 3)
  • Writing to Learn
  • Unlimited Memory: How to Use Advanced Learning Strategies to Learn Faster, Remember More and be More Productive
  • The Art of Reading

 

So many thanks to my Patreon supporters and the Long Term Future Fund for their support of this research.

Epistemic Spot Check: Children in Colonial America

Introduction

Once upon a time I started fact checking books I read, to see if they were trustworthy. I called this epistemic spot checking because it was not a rigorous or thorough investigation; just following up on things I thought were interesting, likely to be wrong, or easy to check. Eventually I became dissatisfied with this. It placed too much emphasis on a binary decision about a particular book’s trustworthiness, and not enough on building models. So I started working on something better. Something that used multiple sources to build robust models of the world. This book is part of that attempt

Children in Colonial America (affiliate link) is a compilation of chapters from many authors, all centered around what you would guess from the title. This lowers the predictive value of one chapter for assessing the credibility of the whole book, since they’re different authors, but has more than zero value. For purposes of this post, I’m going to look at three chapters. As usual, you can view all my notes in Roam here.

Claims

Chapter 1: Indian Children in Early Mexico

Claim: Mexico was ruled by Spain from 1521-1821, and was known as New Spain during this time (p28).
Verdict: True (source). This is not very impressive to get right, except that I originally recorded it as 1831 and briefly went very down on the chapter. So we know I can catch both embarrassingly obvious factual errors made in books, and my own  embarrassing typos.

 

Claim:  In the 1700s Mexico City had 112,000 people, mostly natives, the largest city in the Americas (p28).
Verdict: Highly defensible but unproven. This is almost exactly what wikipedia reports an inaccessible source reports a primary source recorded in 1793, although 112,926 rounds to 113k, not 112k. It’s not at all clear to me how good this census was, given that even modern censuses have a lot of problems.

Additionally, I’m not thrilled about her using one number to refer to the population throughout an entire century. According to wikipedia the population varied a lot, probably due to competition between disease and immigration, but possibly due to to changes in methodology.

This is still well over the recorded populations of various future-USA cities recorded in the same decade.  However that’s still sensitive to definitions- how do you draw the boundaries between a city and its surrounding farmland?

 

Claim: In the 1700s New Spain had 6m inhabitants.
Verdict: Right order of magnitude. This graph

which is originally from a Spanish-language work I read about here estimates about 1/3 lower than that, but admits that it’s order-of-magnitude at best.

 

Claim: Aztecs buried newborn’s umbilical cord under the hearth (girl) or battlefield (boy) (p29).
Verdict: Well justified (source 1, 2, 3). AFAICT everyone’s ultimate source for this is the Florentine Codex, which has all the problems noted above.

 

Claim:  “Children were the most apt to die in the epidemics because they had no natural immunity” (p36).
Verdict: Close enough. Ignores the fragility of old people and there are flukes like the Spanish Flu, but close enough.

 

Claim: “Probably the happiest moments for boys and girls were the processions, fireworks, and communal meals that took place about eight times a year in the Indian pueblos.” (p37), “another favorite time for Indian youngsters was the feast of the patron saint of their home towns.” (p38)
Verdict: I don’t know how the author could possibly know this with the information they have.

 

Claim: “The Jesuits were expelled by Charles III in 1767 from all of the Spanish territories, resulting in the exile of four hundred priests from New Spain, one-third of whom were teachers.” (p39).
Verdict: Probably wrong (evidence compiled in Roam). There was definitely an expulsion, but the more common number given for number of exiled priests was 678, and that comes from an enumerated census. It’s possible these were referring to different geographic areas, but the book specifically refers to New Spain, not just Mexico. It’s possible it was referring to just a subset of priests- but it specifically names priests and teacher priests. It’s possible they meant some third thing I haven’t thought of, or have a different sources, but in that case they really need to provide it.

Chapter 2: Colonizing Childhood: Religion, Gender, and Indian Children in Southern New England, 1600–1720

Claim: New England colonists used indentured servitude as a way to both extract labor and indoctrinate Native American children (p48).
Verdict: Seems likely but leaves out important facts, such as the fact that women were also forced to provide labor in New England, and native men were sold into slavery in the Bahamas (wikipedia).

It’s a little hard to tell what source the chapter is using for this- there’s a citation 80% of the way through a very long paragraph that lists several sources. The most relevant looking one, Colonizing the Children: Indian Youngsters in Servitude in Early Rhode Island, is focused 50-100 years later than this book, and mentions Christianity once. The Impact of Indentured Servitude on the Society and Culture of Southern New England Indians, 1680-1810 is also set later than this chapter.

 

Claim: “In a reflection of the importance of religious practice to the major transitions in an individual’s life, Indian parents and kin actively assisted children in cultivating relationships with a range of powerful supernatural entities.” (p49)
Verdict: Dubious and undifferentiated.

This quote is a stand-in for the numerous times the author talks about the importance of religion to Native New England children during colonial times. And I don’t doubt that it was, because it’s important to most if not cultures. It certainly was to the Puritan children that are the most natural comparison group. It’s ambiguous if the chapter means to claim the native children were especially religious, and if so, how we know that.

 

Claim: Edward Winslow reported Wampanoag beliefs about a deity who created life, Keihtan. (p51)
Verdict: True but waaaaaaay to much work to verify (source).

How could this take so long to verify, you might ask yourself? It’s just reporting that a dude said a thing, surely you just need to point to the page where he said it and everyone can go on with their day. Alternately, it’s a pretty distinct word, can’t you just google for it?

Yes, either one of those would be easy, but:

  1. The author continued their delightful pattern of putting all their citations in a single superscript that is almost, but not quite entirely, at the end of a paragraph, rather than where he’s asserting the thing.
  2. He spelled the damn name differently than Winslow.

The misspelling isn’t a big deal, phoneticizing a language that may not even have a written form is not easy, and this deity has lots of names. But the combination of the two meant I lost 45 minutes of my life to tracking down this simple fact that wasn’t even relevant to my interests.

 

Claim: English missionaries established Praying Towns, their version of missionary villages in the mid-1600s
Verdict: Obviously true. After the last one I’m just going to accept a tertiary source. There is some conflict among sources about when they started (notes in Roam), which I think is more about the definition of “start” than about when specific things actually happened.

 

 

Chapter 3: Imperial Ideas, Colonial Realities Enslaved Children in Jamaica, 1775–1834

Claim: Children accounted for a “significant” portion of the slave trade, especially compared to other  (p63).
Verdict: Vague but true (Roam notes). The exact number varies based on time, origin, and destination so it’s not clear how meaningful an average is, but 25% looks roughly correct.

More specifically: Was the Slave Trade Dominated by Men? (Roam notes), a survey of mostly British vessels, reports 12-40% of imported slaves being children, depending on the era, based on a survey of ships that covers 8-10% of all slaves transported to the New World (my guess is this is based on the population that arrived alive, not who was on the boat when they left Africa, but it’s not specified).

Sex Ratio, Age and Ethnicity in the Atlantic Slave Trade: data from French shipping and plantation records (Roam notes) finds an overall average of 26.6% children, varying from 9-43% using the standard definition of child in a slavery context at that time, which is “shorter than 4’4”.

26% or even 12% is not trivial, but it’s especially striking when compared to people arriving in the New World as indentured servants, which really were overwhelmingly adult and male, something like 70-90% (although the numbers aren’t quite comparable; I believe European immigrants use their actual birthdates to determine age, as opposed to height) (source: Was the Slave Trade Dominated by Men? )

 

Claim: Children were historically used as sources of labor, including in Britain, in the 1700s and 1800s
Verdict: True, although very hard to find hard numbers for (Roam synthesis). The best estimate I could find was this summary article which cited multiple papers I could not access. It gives the following numbers for child participation in mining and textiles, which it claims were the most popular industries for children

The demographic distribution of Industrial-Revolution Great Britain is also very hard to find, but the following is implied to be the result of a census (source):

If you assume that 1/3 of children were between 10 and 15, and that all working children were between 10 and 15, that would make their labor force participation in mining and textiles (very) approximately equal to their proportion of population in 1860. Of course this is very rough- God knows what the demographics of children were during the Demographic Transition, and some children started working younger than 10. But this does suggestion that children as a whole were less likely to participate in work – at least, work outside the home; it’s not clear how they’re counting work on the family farm.

 

Claim: “the age and social standing of the enslaved are two factors, among others, that would also influence attitudes and reactions to enslavement in the Americas.”
Verdict: Unverified by I believe it. The original source was inaccessible and verifying it was proving to require a lot of general reading that didn’t bear on my question, so I stopped after 15 minutes of trying.

 

 

Process Notes

I had a really hard time verifying anything interesting in Indian Children in Early Mexico, because all of the primary and deeper secondary sources are in Spanish or Nahuatl, neither of which I read. I say “sources”, but it appears there’s only one real source for any information on pre-Spanish Aztecs, which is one missionary (Bernardino de Sahagún), who wrote a general history of the Aztecs, known in English as either the Florentine Codex or The General/Universal History of the Things of New Spain. At least, that’s what everything I read seemed to be relying on, when they gave a source at all. Parts of the codex are available for free in English, but not the relevant ones. Even assuming I could read it, one dude whose official mission was very much to destroy Aztec culture and replace it with his own probably introduced biases to his reports of their culture.

Sometimes I would luck out and a source would be in English but inaccessible. What I could verify with English sources was pretty limited to names and dates.

Colonizing Childhood… brings up the question: how long should I spend verifying minor claims? There’s a fair number of claims I go into with the attitude of “this ought to be easy to find.” You could argue these are low value because it’s very unlikely the author screwed up a basic name or date- but if that’s true, it would be a very bad sign about the author/work if they did screw it up. And surprisingly often, there’s debate about even very simple facts. E.g., different sources listed different start times for Praying Towns. These sources didn’t differ in their facts, but in what they counted as the start- the first sermon or the first town incorporation. I wouldn’t have learned about those distinctions if I hadn’t looked up an “easy to find” fact.

Overall, I was really not impressed by how little context this chapter gave for the tribes it talked about, primarily the Wampanoag. I never would have guessed that they were only semi-sedentary (which is important context for the missionaries’ efforts to move them into Praying Towns) or matrilineal, if I hadn’t sought out other sources. It could be aimed at a more educated audience than me- but the book covers a really wide geographic and social range, and it seems unfair to expect people to be experts in all of them.

Imperial Ideas… was flat out a better chapter than the other two.

    1. It cited sources such that I could actually find them and match them to claims.
    2. It had a delightful pattern of making a general claim and then backing it up with specific instances. E.g.

      young African children were available for sale on the island. In 1792, in a letter reporting the sale of the slave cargo on the ship Ruby, the Jamaican merchant John Cunningham wrote, “I sold 129 slaves. . . . There were 45 boys and girls . . . many not more than 8 or 9 years of age.”9 Over 30 percent of the captives sold from this ship were children.

I found myself marking more claims as potential epistemic spot checks for Imperial Ideas… than I did for the other two chapters. In fact, notetaking was just easier and more free flowing with this chapter. I’m not sure how to operationalize this: punishing books for taking more effort to read has some obvious failure modes.

Actually this brings up something I’ve been wanting to talk about for a while, which is how Epistemic Spot Checks have changed my definition of easy. Time was a book’s easiness rating was based on how much effort I needed to put into understanding the author. It rewarded spoon feeding me conclusions and punished provoking certain kinds of thought. Now easiness is much more based on how much effort I have to put into verifying the author’s claims.

I originally didn’t record any notes from Was the Slave Trade Dominated by Men? about indentured servitude, because it wasn’t strictly relevant to the question I was asking. Luckily I wrote this up the same night and noticed that it seemed worth including.

Verdict

Indian Children in Early Mexico got most of its basic facts right, or at least defensible, and had one probable error. I couldn’t verify anything interesting because of language barrier.

Colonizing Childhood: Religion, Gender, and Indian Children in Southern New England, 1600–1720 also seems fine, although it was more a jumble of facts than a cohesive thesis, and the closest thing it had to a thesis seemed to indicate a specialness that was not backed up by facts.

Imperial Ideas, Colonial Realities Enslaved Children in Jamaica, 1775–1834 was pretty great. It backed up its claims better than the other two and provoked more thought in me.

 

Many thanks to my Patreon patrons and the Long Term Future Fund for funding this post.

Cassette Tape Thoughts

“The packaging of intellectual positions and views is one of the most active enterprises of some of the best minds of our day. The viewer of television, the listener to radio, the reader of magazines, is presented with a whole complex of elements-all the way from ingenious rhetoric to carefully selected data and statistics-to make it easy for him to “make up his own mind” with the minimum of difficulty and effort. But the packaging is often done so effectively that the viewer, listener, or reader does not make up his own mind at all. Instead, he inserts a packaged opinion into his mind, somewhat like inserting a cassette into a cassette player. He then pushes a button and “plays back” the opinion whenever it seems appropriate to do so. He has performed acceptably without having had to think.”

Excerpt From: Mortimer J. Adler, Charles Van Doren. “How To Read A Book- A Classic Guide to Intelligent Reading.” (affiliate link).

This really stuck with me. More properly, it stuck with me the second time I read it. This turns out to be really important, and meta.

The difference between the first time I read it and the second was that I had four more months of reading books while specifically thinking about how to get the most out of them. My attitude towards How to Read a Book when I first read it was kind of like a cassette tape.* It would teach me Good Reading and then I could do it and Read Better. I didn’t have an idea of what problems I wanted it to solve- neither what axes I wanted to improve on, nor what my blocks were. If I’d succeeded at reading the book at this time, it would have given me the ability to parrot its ideas, but not actually apply them.

[*I fear a cassette tape really is a better metaphor than modern music playing equipment, which is pretty defined by its flexibility and adaptation to the user. Younger readers: imagine something heavily DRMed so you have to sit through all the commercials and can’t skip around within it]

Four months later, I know what my biggest problem is: how to identify what information to record and what to let go of. I am really excited for any insights HTRAB has into that.  And because I know that, whatever I learn from HTRAB won’t be something I parrot back on a test, it will be incorporated into my own models, and I’ll be able to explain every part of them, adjust plans and outputs to accommodate changes in inputs, etc.

I previously talked about how both detail-focused and detail-entwined books were harder to extract value from. Over on LessWrong, John Wentworth suggested this was a gears based problem: books that were just lists of details were like describing gears without detailing how they worked together. Books that entwined their details too much were mashing multiple gears together without disambiguating them. The latter corresponds to what  Adler and Van Doren describe as cassette tapes.

What epistemic spot checks were previously doing could be described as “determining if the cassette tape is good”, and what I am aiming for now (more after conceiving of it this way) is understanding and investigating a book’s gears. This involves both seeing how the gears fit together, and verifying that the gears are “real”, meaning they reflect actual reality.