1 . The need for clarity extends beyond how we communicate science to how we evaluate it. Who can really define stock phrases such as ‘a significant contribution to research’? Or understand what ‘high impact’ or ‘world-class’ mean? Scientists demand that institutions should be clear about their criteria and consider all scholarly outputs—preprints, code, data, peer review, teaching, mentoring and so on.

My view about the practices in research assessment is that most assessment guidelines permit sliding standards: instead of clearly defined terms, they give us feel-good slogans that lack any fixed meaning. Facing the problem will get us much of the way towards a solution.

Broad language increases room for misunderstanding. ‘High impact’ can be code for where research is published. Or it can mean the effect that research has had on its field, or on society locally or globally—often very different things. Yet confusion is the least of the problems. Words such as ‘world-class’ and ‘excellent’ allow assessors to vary comparisons depending on whose work they are assessing. Academia(学术界) cannot be a fair and reasonable system if standards change depending on whom we are evaluating. Unconscious bias(偏见) associated with factors such as a researcher’s gender, ethnic origin and social background helps the academic injustice continue. It was only with double-blind review of research proposals that women finally got fair access to the Hubble Space Telescope.

Many strategies exist to improve fairness in academia, but conceptual clarity is paramount. Being clear about how specific qualities are valued leads assessors to think critically about whether those qualities are truly being considered. Achieving that conceptual clarity requires discussion with faculties, staff and students: hours and hours of it. The University Medical Center Utrecht in the Netherlands, for example, held a series of conversations, each involving 20-60 researchers, and then spent another year revising its research assessment policies to recognize social impacts.

Frank conversations about what is valued in a particular context, or at a specific institution, are an essential first step in developing concrete recommendations. Although ambiguous(模棱两可的) terms, for instance ‘world-class’ and ‘significant’, are a barrier when performing assessments, university administrators have said that they rely on flexible language to make room to reward a variety of contributions. So it makes sense that more specific language in review and promotion must be able to accommodate varied outputs, outcomes and impacts of scholarly work.

Setting specific standards will be tough. It will be inviting to fall back on the misleading standards such as impact factors, or on ambiguous terms that can be agreed to by everyone but applied wisely by no one. It is too early to know what those standards will be or how much they will vary, but the right discussions are starting to happen. They must continue.

2 . In the story A Christmas Carol, the wealthy miser (吝啬鬼) Ebenezer Scrooge has a magical, life-changing epiphany (顿悟). Scrooge’s eyes are opened as to how his behavior affects other people — and he goes from a selfish grump to a generous benefactor overnight, thanks to visits from ghosts.

Scrooge’s transformation comes down to knowledge. But do people really want to know how their actions affect others? As behavioral scientists, we wanted to understand just how common willful ignorance is — as well as why people engage in it.

Experiments were carried out to find answers. Researchers asked one member of each pair to choose between two options (选择) in one of two settings, determining the earnings for themselves and their partner.

In the transparent setting, if they chose $5 for themselves, they knew their partner would also receive $5. If, however, they chose $6 for themselves, they knew their partner would receive only $1 in return.

In the ambiguous setting, there were two possible situations. In one, if the decision-maker selected $6 for themselves, their partner would receive $1, and if the decision-maker chose $5, their partner would receive $5. But in the other situation, the decision-maker could pick $6 and their partner would receive $5, or the decision-maker could select $5 and their partner would receive $1. The decision-maker knew these two systems — but they were not initially aware of which situation they were in. Interestingly, the decision-maker had the opportunity to resolve that ambiguity by clicking a button.

Across all studies, we found in the transparent setting 55% chose the altruistic option. In the ambiguous setting, however, 40% of participants chose to remain ignorant. 60% of people in the ignorant group chose a higher personal payout in situations where this choice came at the expense of their partner. Among those who requested more information, 36% knowingly kept a higher payout at a cost to their partner. Only 39% of people in the ambiguous setting made the choice that ultimately benefited their partner — a significant drop from 55% in the transparent condition.

But how do we know if ignorance in the ambiguous setting was willful? We conducted a second analysis focused on what motivates people to seek information.

In this analysis we looked at how people who obtained additional information behaved in comparison with those who were given information. We found that people who chose to receive information in the ambiguous setting were seven percentage points more likely to make the altruistic choice than people in the transparent setting. By the same token, the finding also suggests ignorance prevents people from knowing how their actions harm others.

If we can avoid putting a strong moral emphasis on decisions, it may make people feel less threatened and, as a result, less willfully ignorant. We may not have Dickensian ghosts to guide us — but there are still steps we can take.

3 . “Flying insects don’t fly directly to lights from far away because they’re attracted to them, but appear to change course toward a light if they happen to be passing by due to a strange inborn biological response,” writes Samuel Fabian, a bioengineer, in a research paper.

Until now, the leading scientific hypothesis has been that insects use the moon’s light to direct the way at night and mistake artificial lights for the moon. But this idea doesn’t explain why insects that only fly during the day also gather around lights.

To find out what really happens, Samuel’s team track the precise movements of insects in the wild around lights using a high-speed camera. This revealed two notable behaviours. First, when insects fly above lights, they often invert (转向) themselves and try to fly upside down, causing them to fall very fast. Just after insects pass under a light, they start doing a ring road. As their climb angle becomes too steep, they suddenly stop and start to fall. Second, when insects approach a light from the side, they may circle or “orbit” the light.

The videos show that the inversions sometimes result in insects falling on lights. It can appear to the naked eye as though they are flying at the lights. “Instead, insects turn their dorsum toward the light, generating flight perpendicular(垂直) to the source,” the team write. It is common to the two behaviours that the insects are keeping their backs to the light, known as the dorsal light response (DLR). This DLR is a shortcut for insects to work out which way is up and keep their bodies upright, as the moon or sun is usually more or less directly above them, and this direction allows them to maintain proper flight attitude and control. They also find that the insects fly at right angles to a light source, leading to orbiting and unstable flights as the light’s location relative to them changes as they move.

Samuel’s team suggest that a possible outcome of the research could help the construction industry to avoid the types of light that most attract insects.

4 . We humans are in trouble. We have let loose a new evolutionary process that we don’t understand and can’t control.

The latest leaps forward in artificial intelligence (AI) are rightly causing anxiety. Yet people are responding as though AI is just one more scary new technology, like electricity or cars once were. We invented it, the argument goes, so we should be able to manage it for our own benefit. Not so. I believe that this situation is new and potentially dangerous.

My thinking starts from the premise that all design anywhere in the universe is created by the evolutionary algorithm (算法). This is the process in which some kind of information is copied many times, the copies vary slightly and only some are selected to be copied again. The information is called the replicator (复制者), and our most familiar example is the gene.

But genes aren’t the only replicator, as Richard Dawkins stressed in The Selfish Gene. People copy habits, stories, words, technologies and songs; we change, recombine and pass them on in ever greater variety. This second replicator, evolving much faster than genes ever could, Dawkins called memes (模仿传递行为) — and they are selfish too.

As we face up to the recent explosion in AI, new questions arise. Could a third replicator take advantage of the first two? And what would happen if it did?

For billions of years, all of the Earth’s organisms were gene machines, until, about 2 million years ago, just one species — our ancestors — started imitating sounds, gestures and ways of processing food. They had let loose a second replicator and turned us into meme machines. Following the same principle, could a third replicator appear if some object we made started copying, varying and selecting a new kind of information?

It could, and I believe it has. Our digital technology can copy, store and spread vast amounts of information with near-perfect accuracy. While we had mostly been the ones selecting what to copy and share, that is changing now. Mindless algorithms choose which ads we see and which news stories they “think” we would like. Once a digital replicator takes off, its products will evolve for its own benefit, not ours.

All is not lost, though. We already cope with fast-evolving parasites such as viruses by using our immune systems, machines and vaccines. Now, we need to build our collective mental immunity, our critical thinking and our ability to protect our attention from all that selfish information. Taking lessons from evolution, we can stop imagining we are the controllers of our accidentally dangerous offspring and start learning how to live with them.

5 . Humans have long tried to conquer water. We’ve straightened once-winding rivers for shipping purposes. We’ve constructed levees (防洪堤) along rivers and lakes to protect people from flooding—We’ve erected entire cities on drained and filled-in wetlands. We’ve built dams on rivers to store water for later use.     1     But it’s not, argues environmental journalist Erica Gies,author of Water Always Wins.

Levees, which narrow channels causing water to flow higher and faster, nearly always break. Cities on former wetlands flood regularly—often disastrously. Dams starve downstream areas of sediment (沉积物) needed to protect coasts against rising seas. Straightened streams move faster than winding ones, giving water less time to flow downward. And they wash away riverbed ecosystems.

In addition to laying out this damage done by supposed water control, Gies takes readers on a hopeful global tour of solutions to these problems. Along the way, she introduces “water detectives” —scientists,engineers,urban planners, and many others.     2    

These water detectives have found ways to give the slippery substance the time and space it needs to flow slowly underground. Around Seattle’s Thornton Creek, for instance, reclaimed land now allows for regular flooding, which has renewed riverbed habitat and created an urban oasis. In California’s Central Valley, scientists want to find ways to move unpolluted storm water into subsurface valleys that make ideal aquifers (含水层).     3    

While some people are exploring new ways to manage water, others are leaning on ancient knowledge. Researchers in Peru are now studying old-style methods of water storage, which don’t require dams, in hopes of ensuring a steady flow of water to Lima—Peru’s populous capital that’s periodically affected by water shortage.     4     “Decision makers come from a culture of concrete,” Gies writes, “in which dams, pipes and desalination factories are standard.”

Understanding how to work with, not against, water will help humankind weather this age of drought and flood that’s being worsened by climate change.     5     Instead, we must learn to live within our water means because water will undoubtedly win.

6 . Newspapers, advertisements, and labels surround us everywhere, turning our environment into a mass of texts to be read or ignored. As the quantity of information we receive continually increases and as information spreading is shifting from page to screen, it may be time to ask how changes in our way of reading may affect our mental life. For how we receive information bears vitally on the ways we experience and interpret reality.

What is most obvious in the evolution of reading is the gradual displacement of the vertical (垂直的) by the horizontal—a shift from intensive to extensive reading. In our culture, access is not a problem, but proliferation (激增) is. And the reading act is necessarily different than it was in its earliest days. Awed by the availability of texts, the reader tends to move across surfaces without allowing the words to resonate (共鸣) inwardly.

Interestingly, this shift from vertical to horizontal parallels the overall societal shift from bounded lifetimes spent in single locales to lives lived in wider geographical areas amid streams of data. This larger access was once regarded as worldliness—one traveled, knew the life of cities, the ways of diverse people…. It has now become the birthright of anyone who owns a television set.

How do we square the advantages and disadvantages of horizontal and vertical awareness? The villagers, who know everything about their surroundings, are blessedly unaware of events in distant lands. The media-obsessed urbanites, by contrast, never lose their awareness of what happens in different parts of the world.

We may ask, which people are happier? The villagers may have found more sense in things owing both to the limited range of their concern and the depth on their information. But restricted conditions and habit also suggest boredom and limitation. The lack of a larger perspective (视角) leads to suspiciousness and cautious conservatism, but for the same reason, the constant availability of data and macro-perspectives has its own decreasing returns. When everything is happening everywhere, it gets harder to care about anything.

How do we assign value? Where do we find the fixed context that allows us to create a narrative of sense about our lives? Ideally, I suppose, one would have the best of both worlds—the purposeful fixity of the local, as well as the availability of enhancing views: a natural ecology of information and context.

7 . Many people would answer the question of what makes us human by insisting that we are cultural beings. There is no doubt that we are. But one definition of culture is the totality of traditions acquired in a community by social learning from other individuals, and many animal species have traditions. Can we then say that some animals are cultural beings too?

One approach to study culture in animals is the so-called Method of Exclusion (排除), in which scientists investigate behavioral variations across populations of one species. In a famous study, scientists learned that chimpanzee (黑猩猩) behaviors were socially passed on as they were present at some sites but not at others, despite having same ecological settings. For example, chimpanzees in Tai National Park in Ivory Coast are well-known for their nut-cracking skills. Chimpanzees in Gombe national part in Tanzania, on the other hand, do not crack nuts, although nuts exist in their environment too.

However, when applying the Method of Exclusion, one has to be very careful. There are other factors that could also explain the pattern of behavioral evaluation. For example, some of the chimpanzee techniques scientists evaluated occur in only one of the three subspecies. So it’s quite possible that these behaviors also have an innate component. This would mean that one chimpanzee subspecies uses a new technique not out of cultural tradition, but because the behavior is fixed to specific genes. Another factor that has to be excluded is of course the environment Chimpanzees in Mahale do not fish algae (水藻), simply because algae does not exist there.

But when we exclude all the variations that can be explained by genes or environment, we still find that animals do show cultural variations. Does that mean there is no real difference between them and us after all? Not exactly: There is a fundamental difference between human and animal culture. Only humans can build culturally on what generations before us have learned. This is called “cumulative culture”. We don’t have to keep reinventing the wheel. This is called the “ratchet (棘轮) effect”. Like a ratchet that can be turned forward but not back, people’s cultural techniques evolve.

It is likely that behaviors we see today in chimpanzee cultures could be invented over and over again by individual animals themselves. In contrast, a child born today would not be able to invent a computer without the knowledge of many past generations.

9 . Over millions of years humans have responded to certain situations without thinking too hard. If our ancestors spotted movement in the nearby forest, they would run first and question later. At the same time, the ability to analyze and to plan is part of what separates us from other animals. The question of when to trust your instinct (直觉)and when to think slow matters in the office as much as in the savannah(草原).

Slow thinking is the feature of a well-managed workplace. Yet instinct also has its place. Some decisions are more connected to emotional responses and less to analysis. In demanding customer-service or public-facing situations, instinct is often a better guide to how to behave.

Instinct can also be improved. Plenty of research has shown that instinct becomes more unerring with experience. In one well-known experiment, volunteers were asked to assess whether a selection of designer handbags were real or not. Some were instructed to operate on instinct and others to deliberate(深思熟虑)over their decision. Instinct worked better for those who owned at least three designer handbags; indeed, it outperformed analysis. The more expert you become, the better your instinct tends to be.

However, the real reason to embrace fast thinking is that it is, well, fast. It is often the only way to get through the day. To take one example, when your inbox floods with new emails at the start of a new day, there is absolutely no way to read them all carefully. Instinct is what helps you decide which ones to answer and which to delete or leave unopened. Fast thinking can also help the entire organization. The value of many managerial decisions lies in the simple fact that they have been made at all. Yet as data explodes, the temptation(诱惑)to ask for one more bit of analysis has become much harder to resist. Managers often suffer from overthinking, turning a simple problem into a complex one.

When to use instinct in the workplace rests on its own form of pattern recognition. Does the decision maker have real expertise in this area? Is this a field in which emotion matters more than reasoning? Above all, is it worth delaying the decision? Slow thinking is needed to get the big calls right. But fast thinking is the way to stop deliberation turning to a waste of time.

10 . A few years ago, the City Council of Monza, Italy, barred pet owners from keeping goldfish in curved fishbowls. The sponsors of the measure explained that it is cruel to keep a fish in such a bowl because the curved sides give the fish a distorted view of reality. Aside from the measure’s significance to the poor goldfish, the story raises an interesting philosophical question: How do we know that the reality we perceive is true?

Physicists are finding themselves in a similar trouble to the goldfish’s. For decades they have been pursuing an ultimate theory of everything—one complete and consistent set of fundamental laws of nature that explain every aspect of reality. It now appears that this pursuit may generate not a single theory but a family of interconnected theories, each describing its own version of reality, as if it viewed the universe through its own fishbowl. This concept may be difficult for many people to accept. Most people believe that there is an objective reality out there and that our senses and our science directly convey (传达) information about the material world. In philosophy, that belief is called realism.

In physics, realism is becoming difficult to defend. Instead, the idea of alternative realities is a mainstay of today’s popular culture. For example, in the science-fiction film The Matrix the human race is unknowingly living in a simulated (模拟的) virtual reality created by intelligent computers. How do we know we are not just computer-generated characters living in a Matrix-like world? If—like us—the beings in the simulated world could not observe their universe from the outside, they would have no reason to doubt their own pictures of reality.

Similarly, the goldfish’s view is not the same as ours from outside their curved bowl. For instance, because light bends as it travels from air to water, a freely moving object that we would observe to move in a straight line would be observed by the goldfish to move along a curved path. The goldfish could form scientific laws from their frame (框架) of reference that would always hold true and that would enable them to make predictions about the future motion of objects outside the bowl. If the goldfish formed such a theory, we would have to admit the goldfish’s view as a reasonable picture of reality.

The goldfish example shows that the same physical situation can be modeled in different ways, each employing different fundamental elements and concepts. It might be that to describe the universe we have to employ different theories in different situations. It is not the physicist’s traditional expectation for a theory of nature, nor does it correspond to our everyday idea of reality. But it might be the way of the universe.