Friday, May 24, 2013

Butterfly on a bullet: crafting of the story


Little more than a decade ago, America woke up to a disaster. The unthinkable had happened 20 miles above them. Space shuttle Columbia, a symbol of spaceflight, of American technology and engineering prowess was on its way back to Earth after spending 16 days in the orbit with a crew of seven and it did not survive the ride.

What remained were 83,900 pieces of this 1.8 billion spacecraft spread over seven states of North America. Architects of the American space program, the scientists at NASA, were now under intense scrutiny and the subject of a 6-month long investigation. In the aftermath of the accident, nearly 5,500 people scoured through the lakes, bushes and trees in an area the size of Connecticut to piece together the story behind the crash. It was one of the biggest jigsaw puzzles of all time and it was being assembled even as newer pieces were being found - all under relentless a media glare. 

From the ashes of this wreckage, there emerged a truth and a story about discovery of that truth. This quest transformed the people who were involved in it. One among them was Lee - Robert Lee Hotz, a seasoned reporter and writer, who brought to life the story behind the tragedy that was Columbia. It was a story that had been in headlines for six months that had been intensely followed and yet poorly understood. It was story that had been reported ad nauseam and yet could not be ignored (even by the Pulitzer board as Lee was awarded his second of three Pulitzers for this story).

I was one of the fifty writers and scientists listening with rapt attention to Lee's narrative  at the Santa Fe science-writing workshop in May this year. We were there to learn from the masters about the craft of writing and reporting and learn.

Lee’s involvement in this story began when his editor at LA Times walked up to him and asked him to step back from the everyday reporting of the Columbia crash and to follow the development of the investigation itself. Despite being a reporter, he was to walk away from a breaking news story and to follow its development from behind the scenes. His task was to take the public behind the scenes of the investigation and trace the story to its end. The task at hand was unusual because he was to report on something that had already been reported - hundreds of times in the very least. He was left with the “cold embers of a twice-told story” and he had to present it with a completely new  perspective. And so he set about finding his story, his narrative. He set up electronic trip wires and followed the story as it unfolded in hundreds of places over thousands of news clippings. Lee says of the investigation, “As a matter of forensic engineering, the investigation into the accident that killed the seven crew members aboard the space shuttle Columbia was the most extensive scientific inquest in history.”

At the workshop, we witnessed the birth of this story from a tale of destruction. Just as the wreckage of Columbia was pieced together, we learnt of the art and skill behind piecing together a narrative – one word at a time. There were many lessons in store for all of us. They are the simplest of reporting lessons and yet many a time, it is with the simple, that the errors begin.

1)    Begin at the beginning - you cannot write what you have not reported:
While that may seem fairly obvious, reporting is also the stage where most errors are made.
Lee mentions something that the great writers always seem to do: pay meticulous attention to sensory detail. “To sights, sounds, smells, textures, colors. To people and their personal detail, to photos on their desk, to their dress, their appearance, their hobbies. They are all revealing pieces of the mosaic of human character.” Latch on to sensory detail that can later provide literary nuggets for your readers to get a perspective, a window into your story.

2)    Shed your preconceptions – they blind you from your sources:
The human ability to expect, anticipate and generalize makes us evolutionarily successful but it also leads one to approach most stories with an expectation of what we hope to find. This is fatal to a reporter who needs to listen carefully to the story that his sources and evidences are trying hard to tell him. Needless to say, one needs to be able to approach a story without any preconceived notions or prejudices.

3)    Look people in the eye and give your curiosity a free reign - wander:
“Deadlines, pressures and the sprint for money, quote and a hard lead, can often make one very blinded and focused.”
But this is when one must trust their instincts and explore.
“Hang up the phone and get out of the office. Talk to people directly. I knocked on doors in nine cities, from Huntsville to Boston. It was time consuming, lonely, expensive, and yet always revealing. The further I went from managed news events, the more I learned.” He says candidly, “go away from you comfort zone and open yourself up to people”. One needs to wander into blind alleys and sometimes one of them will give you a story. It was one such blind alley-like digression that brought Lee to Chauncy Birdtail, a part-time firefighter from Montana who took up the job of hunting for Columbia’s parts in order to pay off a fine of 900$ for drunken driving.  Chauncy Birdtail is a character whose presence lends a lot of color and depth to the story. This is one striking advice in today’s internet and technology driven world where we tend to do most of our research from blogs, books and websites. It is for this very reason that I find Lee’s advice to “hang out in the lab, look people in the eye, knock on doors, meet people”, very important and worth remembering.

4)    Organize as you go – there is never going to be “the” moment to set everything aside and organize:
Organization of the reported material is critical in any story, more so in a story that was covered by more than 20,000 news stories and involved 130 interviews with accident investigators, scientists and NASA employees across the United States. Lee also burrowed his way through government reports and public hearing transcripts spanning the quarter-century of the space program. Of these reports, Lee says, “the best stories are hidden in the fine print of any government report that most people don’t read”. To organize and digest all this information pouring in from all sides, Lee built a searchable computer database, which was religiously updated every single day. What he also did was to update the story every day with ideas, questions, impressions, problems, so that “one never loses track of what one doesn’t know”.

Thankfully for rest of us, technology has come along further in the past decade and there are softwares like Ask Sam (for windows), Devonthink (for mac) and scrivener (for mac again) that let you do something similar (and perhaps more) without having to build a database on your own.

Not so surprisingly, Lee also had 10 yellow legal pads of hand written interview notes that he had indexed by topic. And in these went his impressions, thoughts and possible follow-ups after every interview.

5)     History matters – dig deeper that you think you need:
As a scientist by training, I couldn’t have agreed more with Lee, when he said, “In every story, history matters, context matters.” - because they do. As digging deeper into story of Columbia revealed to Lee - the accident was two decades in the making. The conditions for the fatal flight were set by the political and economic decisions that shaped the original flawed design of the shuttle spacecraft. In fact, contrary to what he expected in the beginning, his story is not about the shuttle or its victims. This becomes the narrative arc of the story, the very spine that keeps it standing through the many explorations.

6)    Persist – and the sources shall oblige:
This is a word that journalists and scientists both best understand. It is no surprise then that science writing sometimes demands just that. Lee says, “Many shuttle officials never talked directly to me or anyone else in press. The head of the investigating commission never spoke to me despite repeated requests for an interview over three months. Yet many people inside the space agency and the investigation did talk to me at length. All of them had to be courted.” And that is where dogged persistence comes into play.

7)    Find a guide – he will show you the way:
“Find a guide. A person who can blaze the path for you through the sidelines of the story”, says Lee. You need someone to show you the territory because you are mostly an outsider, unaccustomed to the terrain. Find a guide. Some one, whose perspective can orient you and your investigation. An anonymous source became Lee’s guide for the Columbia story and helped him determine the questions that needed to be asked.

8)    How to piece it all together – shaping the outline:
Even though reporting a story seems like the most daunting part of a story, it does not end there. The writer’s job only begins now with the piecing together of these fragments into a cogent whole. Of this particular story, Lee says, he faced the same problem as NASA’s investigative team.

To piece together Columbia’s thousands of scattered pieces and circuit components into a meaningful and revealing whole, NASA did their reconstruction by laying out every one of their 83,900 shuttle parts onto the silhouette of the space craft; Lee did his outlining of the story in MS word. He reveals to us that he drafted the story by first defining rough chapter outlines and then making bins within the outline. Each bin contained relevant facts, quotes and the source information as footnotes. (This way, when re-organized, the bins carried their sources with them making it easy for him to avoid plagiarizing and for the fact checkers.)

Doing this surely was an arduous task as one needs to burrow through a story to find every relevant factoid and to provide a context for it all. His outline was a gigantic 27,000 words long monograph at the end of which he was still searching for his story. He says with all honesty, “this is when you find out what you have” – the story that you pitched or something that totally caught you by surprise.  And then begins the real process of writing the story.

9)    Don’t begin, just start – “there is no such thing as a writer’s block”
Many people I know struggle to get that perfect first sentence, before they can move on to the second. They then try and perfect the second sentence before moving onto the third.  This makes the whole process of writing a rather painful and stuttered process. Lee says, “Don’t do that. Don’t begin; just start. Write one chunk after another. Try to be as hard and as sharp as you can. You can always trim back but you can’t trim what you haven’t put in.”

In the instance of the Columbia story, everything was public and available and the beginning was unclear. And so he did what makes most sense – “When in doubt, write in a chronological order.”

10) “If you like it, kill it”
Even as the first draft of the story is sculpted into words, one is left with the most painful process of it all - chiseling the story for a smooth but sharp finish. Editing a draft is a painful process and Lee did six rounds of revision before he could show the story to anyone but himself. And this process was guided by something that the raspy voiced, Ed Berlin, his former editor told him:
“You like it.
It’s really beautiful.
Kill it.”

This according to Lee is great advice because we, as men and women with words, get too attached to our own words and phrases; often times at the expense of clarity and brevity.

11) Find the narrative arc and find a good editor:
Having written six drafts of his story, Lee then took the outline of his story to an editor - someone whose advice can be trusted but ignored when needed. This is something that we all often struggle with – finding that trained eye to locate the rips, tears and knots in the fabric of the story. Most people turn to friends, family members, mentors, or former editors. Luckily for Lee, L Myer, a Pulitzer winning editor and a former white house correspondent was willing to help.

At this point, despite having written the outline of the story, Lee was searching for the narrative arc.
Myer found it for him.
Lee’s outline for the story began with the re-entry of the shuttle.

One Columbia crew member didn't wear a space helmet, so smooth was the descent.
Too elated to bother, or perhaps too confident, three of them did not put on their orange pressure-suit gloves.
On the flight deck, shuttle commander Rick Husband, 45, chugged down three plastic flagons of saline solution to keep from getting lightheaded, a common side effect of reentry. It tasted slightly like seawater.
Pilot William McCool, 41, pored over a pre-landing checklist. Crew members Kalpana Chawla, 41, and Laurel Clark, 41, sitting behind him, watched raptly as superheated gases licked across the cabin windows.
Seated back in the mid-deck area, Michael Anderson, 43, David Brown, 46, and Ilan Ramon, 48, could not see what lay ahead.
The seven men and women were plunging out of orbit into the atmosphere over the South Pacific on the last leg of a journey that 22 years of repetition had turned into a NASA routine.
For 16 days, they had circled Earth. Now they could return.”

But after Myer, Lee’s investigative story began with James Hillock who uses pencils and a mail room balance to find out just how little it takes to bring down a space shuttle. His former lede with the crew-members entering the air space and being engulfed by a fire ball was no longer relevant to the narrative arc. The story was not about the accident or its victims. The story, as Lee now realized was about an agency cloaked in complacency and unwittingly waiting for an accident to happen. 
He had finally found his narrative arc.

He now needed to edit the story. Myer says to Lee of his editing process: “Indeed on the first day of the editing, I read through the piece, mark the weakest part and then remove. On the second day, I read through the piece and remove the weakest part. On the third day, I read through the piece and remove the weakest part and so on. I do this, until the stuff that is left really slaps you in the face. Hope this helps.”

12) Write. Re-write. Re-write. Re-written. Re-writing.
With the story in place, the last task at hand is to find the best words to build the most compelling picture. This was a task that Lee did in close collaboration with his editor. They first divided the story into chapters to arrive at a global narrative arc. Each chapter was then sculpted, word-by-word, line-by-line to achieve a tone of forensic terseness and brevity. Together, they went through thirty-two drafts spending late nights and early mornings working on this six-part, 13,000 word, nail-biter of a story. The multipartite editing process helped them make every word and every sentence carry the story. There was nothing superfluous, nothing unnecessary.

Every one of the six parts was a story in itself and a part of the bigger whole. They removed fuzzy generalizations, analogies, adverbs and adjectives to give this investigation its forensic tone and import. They relied heavily on verbs, as every great writer has already confessed. Their gas guns belched, their parts shattered, scattered and their subjects dared, discovered, radioed, twirled and teetered.

13) Like all journeys, stories have a destination.
“Write your ending with the same care as the lede. If possible, write the beginning with the end in mind.” The end of every story - like the end of every journey - should be a destination.
The Tragic tale of Columbia and its crew comes back a full circle in Lee’s story as it ends by outlining the last minutes of the shuttle’s re-entry into the earth’s atmosphere and the echo of that disaster that reverberated for months on end.

“A mystery can transform those who pursue it. The people involved in the Columbia inquest may never be free of it. Memories have a life of their own. Regrets linger.
Should they start to fade, there will be reminders.
Just a few weeks ago near Chireno, Texas, a farmer feeding his cattle discovered a jagged piece of alloy about the size of a fountain pen jammed in a bale of hay.
He took it to the county sheriff, who duly sent it by overnight express to NASA.
It was another piece of Columbia.
They turn up about once a week.”



These are lessons that are simple enough (to forget) and that is precisely why they need to be remembered and actively followed.



Wednesday, May 22, 2013

The sound science of music...


As someone interested in the human mind, it wasn't unusual that I found myself fascinated by the neuroscience of music and our appreciation for it. The search for greater understanding resulted in some very interesting ideas for more blog posts and stories but meanwhile, I did submit my first article to Nature India. It was published there as a feature at the following link. 

Like many scientists however, I prefer the unedited, longer version of the same story (as seen below). I hope you will go through both and give me feedback on which one works better for you. 




When Austin Chapman - a twenty three year old filmmaker - heard music for the first time tears rolled down his cheeks even as he tried to hide them. Austin was born profoundly deaf and his hearing aids had never been able to do any justice to the music he heard because they only let him hear the bass and mid tones.  He says of music, “I’ve never understood it. My whole life I’ve seen people make a fool of themselves singing their favorite song or gyrating on the dance floor. That was the hardest thing for me wrap my head around.” But all that changed and the world of sounds attacked him when Austin upgraded to a new pair of Phonak Naida hearing aids. As he sat in the doctor’s office, he first encountered the cacophony of sounds – the hum of the AC, the whir of the computer, the scraping of the shoes and the clacking of the keyboard; they were all new sounds to him. But then, that evening, a group of close friends jump-started his musical education and Austin heard Mozart’s Lacrimosa - for the first time. He realized for the first time what music really was.

Albeit poignant, this is unremarkable to most of us because at one point or another, we have all been moved by music. We have been moved to inexplicable joy or to unfathomable sadness. We have studied to music, run to music or merely contemplated to our favorite sounds. Scientists, on the other hand, have had a much more trying time in their attempts to define music or to even understand its effects on us.

Why music?

Many, including Darwin, have speculated about the need for music and its role in our evolution.
“As neither the enjoyment, nor the capacity of producing musical notes are faculties of the least use to man in reference to his daily habits of life, they must be ranked among the most mysterious with which he is endowed.”  - Charles Darwin

Darwin speculated that music in man, like the colorful plumage in birds, could serve as a sexually attractive quality enabling mate choice. In other words, not unlike today, our ancestral rock stars would have had a large female fan following. He also suggested in passing that music could serve as a tool for emotional communication like between a mother and an infant.

Others like psychologist Michael Gazzaniga from University of California (Santa Barbara) believe that the creativity underlying artistic pursuits (including music perception) served a more tangible function than merely making one more attractive. They posit that the creative processes and the cognitive exercises associated with an art form would have made our ancestors better planners and problem solvers – thus providing them with a survival advantage. They also advocate that music composition and improvisation can enhance one’s cognitive flexibility (by training for perceiving, arranging, rearranging and memorizing the elements of pitch, rhythm, and timbre) and hence, could be an evolutionary tag for physical, mental and emotional fitness. Although this may seem unlikely at first, scientific data over the past few years has indeed shown that musical training in the early years of development (up to age 9) alters the brain structure leading to more development in the auditory and motor areas. Training in music has been seen to improve the plasticity of our neural connections enabling effective encoding of the most meaningful sounds. These effects further translated into better language skills, greater vocabulary and a greater reading ability.

Such beneficial effects however do not establish a cause-and-effect role for music in human evolution. In fact, many like Dr. Steven Pinker, a cognitive scientist from MIT, have dismissed music perception as “auditory cheesecake” – a faculty that exploits other evolutionary-relevant skills such as our ability for language. He considers all art forms including music as evolutionary by-products and the pleasures afforded by them to be pleasant coincidences - quite like our fondness for a cheesecake; which is a caloric bombshell triggering diseases like obesity, diabetes and the rest. If our fondness for something so fatal can survive evolutionary selection – clearly it must be tapping into other more useful traits like a fondness for sugar and fats – which in turn would have been useful to our ancestors.

The language of music and the cross connectivity therein…

The last and most recent theoretical framework for the origins of music perception draws a parallel between music and its similarity to language. Decades ago, linguist Noam Chomsky from MIT, proposed the existence of an inherent “knowledge of language” – a set of unconscious (and potentially inaccessible) principles of grammar and sentence construction that are universally shared by all humans. Music, in many ways, is superficially similar to language in that there are deep cultural influences in our perception of sounds, pitches, tones and our ideas of music vs. noise. Yet, most people agree to what is musical and what is noise. This implies that, like language, there are inherent limitations to our perception of music. Attesting to this theory, studies in Rhesus monkeys show that although monkeys do not produce music on their own, they possess musical sensitivity – albeit slightly different from that of humans.

Interestingly, brain imaging studies show that while speech processing mostly takes place in the left half of the brain, music is predominantly perceived in the right hemisphere. Although these studies suggest non-overlapping circuits for music and speech, others have found several neural pathways common to both these faculties - such as the need for syntax (organizing notes vs. organizing words).

Although, much of the early evidence is anecdotal and not entirely reliable, recent evidence in the field suggests that our right hemisphere - which is activated by music - is specialized for slower but finer pitch discrimination than the corresponding region on the left. It is speculated that the two hemispheres could have specialized for speed vs. sensitivity. While speech discrimination (in the left hemisphere) requires coarser but faster discrimination of sounds, the right hemisphere may have evolved as a general system for discerning salient sounds from a naturally noisy environment. Thus, it is possible that these two abilities are merely two facets of the auditory cortex that were subsequently co-opted for use in language and music.

The emotional chord…

Music, unlike language, is strongly emotive and Austin experienced it when he heard Lacrimosa for the first time.

Music not only elicits psychological changes by influencing our mood, it also affects us physiologically – it makes us tap our limbs, it increases our heart rate and some of our favorite songs send chills down our spine. Why does this happen? And more importantly how does this happen? These are esoteric but relevant questions that the field of neuroscience is still grappling with.

Drs. Robert Zatorre and Valorie Salimpoor in Canada have been doing some exciting work in this area. Their earlier work in 2012 showed that the intense pleasure experienced when listening to a favorite song is associated with dopamine activity in the striatum – a part of our “primitive” brain or the limbic system. They suggest that our perception of music taps into our emotional circuitry and exploits our emotions of expectation, delay, tension, resolution, prediction, surprise and anticipation - thereby altering our emotional state.

Similar dopamine mediated euphoria is also anticipated and induced by evolutionarily critical drives like food and sex – making them rewarding and repeatable. Psycho-stimulants like cocaine also cause a similar dopamine rush making them highly addictive. Our brains are also evolutionarily wired such that cues predictive of a future reward lead us to derive pleasure from the mere anticipation of it such as by the pleasant smells of food. This sense of pleasure gets further amplified and reinforced when we actually get the reward. Greater anticipation is seen to lead to a greater dopamine release thereafter and thus a greater sense of pleasure. The longer you wait in spell-bound anticipation or anxiety – the greater the pleasure experienced when the tension is relieved.

Music perception seems to successfully tap into these two reward phases – anticipation and consummation - thereby giving us maximum pleasure. The anticipation is set off by the cues suggesting the onset of a pleasant sound and this very abstract reward is obtained when the melody resolves into the expected pattern. This is of course a common tool used by performers and composers, across genres and cultures, as they manipulate the audience’s emotional state by raising expectations, violating them and then presenting the predicted resolution as a delayed outcome. Music perception also taps into our abilities of pattern recognition as we note sound patterns and predict them. The sense of anticipation however could arise either from a cultural or individual familiarity with a style/piece of music or from the existence of an inherent musical structure, common to us all.

In a more recent report this year, Drs. Zatorre and Salimpoor extended their previous study and explored some of these questions. They evaluated the rewarding experience of music in terms of the amount the listeners were willing to spend to repeat the experience. Since the subjects were spending their own money (and not artificial currency or the project’s funds) to purchase the song that they had heard, it was a true estimate of their value for the song.

The researchers analyzed brain activity in the listeners as they experienced low, modest or high rewards and identified brain areas that correlated with the intensity of these rewards. Whole brain analysis of oxygenated blood flow during the 30 sec interval when the music was experienced revealed increased activity in the dorsal and ventral striatum, particularly the nucleus accumbens (NAcc) - a region in the ventral striatum. The striatum is a sub-cortical structure i.e. it is buried under the folds of the brain’s cortex and is a region where many cortical signals converge to attain saliency with respect to their impact - pleasure vs. pain. They found that the reward value experienced was directly proportional to the activity in these brain regions.

Further analysis of the brain’s activity showed that the NAcc showed robust functional connectivity with regions of the auditory cortex. Although, increased activity in the auditory cortex alone was not sufficient to predict the reward, the strength of their connectivity with the NAcc could predict the music’s reward value. Other regions involved in emotional processing and value-guided decision-making were also involved in processing the musical stimulus. Their results show that while many brain regions are involved in music processing and evaluation, activity in the striatum alone was proportional to the reward value of the stimulus.

Since the participants in the study were listening to the music clips for the first time and lacked explicit familiarity with the test piece, it is clear that our brains depend on an implicit knowledge of musical structure based on previous exposure. As sound sequences unfold, our expectations of patterns and tonal events rise and shift leading to the firing of dopaminergic neurons in anticipation and upon successful realization of that prediction. Thus, listening to music involves continuous and real-time processing of expectancy and evaluation as the song unfolds.

These findings show that the rush felt while listening to your favorite song or piece is a complex outcome of many different processes. As the notes unfold, your ears are conveying the sounds to your auditory cortex in the form of electrical impulses. These brain areas then extract the sound relationships and discriminate the organization of sound patterns. These and other regions of the brain contain templates of sounds from past experiences, and based on these, the brain makes predictions about the next note or tone of the melody. These temporal predictions further activate regions of the brain like the NAcc and cause a burst of dopamine, which gives us that heady sense of pleasure. These expectations, pertaining to the harmonic or metrical structure, the timbre, the loudness or the lyrics further establish a new anticipation-prediction cycle. Highly desirable songs are marked by greater connectivity between regions of the auditory cortex with the reward circuits. This also suggests that as we burn through our favorite records, our sense of pleasure will also wane a little, if not altogether, as we become more and more certain of the next tone or note. Our first listening of a melody is different from the rest that follow because our tension and unfamiliarity are much higher.

Music also initiates sensory-motor interactions coupling the auditory cortex with the premotor and frontal regions leading us to snap those fingers or tap those toes. It thus seems that sound sequences and neutral tones that have no inherent value can interact with our higher levels of cognitive perception and can become salient incentives or pleasures.

Despite these recent studies, our implicit perception of music and its structure remains an enduring puzzle. But increasingly, it seems more and more likely that although our musical abilities may have evolved as a fortuitous by-product, they have survived evolution by cleverly tapping into our emotional circuitry. By altering our emotional states, music has attained a ritualistic significance and has become a tool to manipulate and attain hedonic states. It has served many diverse functions in history: by serving as the anthem that cements a group of individuals to serving as a lullaby that bonds the child to its mother. The adoption of music into human societies may have happened by chance but it has cemented its position by altering the very structure of our brains and the fabric of our societies.

It is no wonder then that listening to music for the first time was an intensely emotional experience that drove Austin Chapman on a music-binge from Punk to Rock to Classical trying to identify his favorite sounds. After all, music is as good as that strawberry cheesecake and is much less of a health hazard.




After being transduced into neural impulses by the inner ear, information travels through several way stations in the brainstem and midbrain to reach the auditory cortex. The auditory cortex contains distinct subregions that are important for decoding and representing the various aspects of the complex sound. In turn, information from the auditory cortex interacts with many other brain areas, especially the frontal lobe, for memory formation and interpretation. The orbitofrontal region is one of many involved in emotional evaluation. The motor cortex is involved in sensory–motor feedback circuits, and in controlling the movements needed to produce music using an instrument.          


References

Music, the food of neuroscience? Robert Zatorre; Nature 434, 312-315 (17 March 2005) Published online 16 March 2005

Interactions Between the Nucleus Accumbens and Auditory Cortices Predict Music Reward Value; Science (April 2013) Valorie N. Salimpoor, Iris van den Bosch, Natasa Kovacevic, Anthony Randal McIntosh, Alain Dagher, Robert J. Zatorre

Anatomically distinct dopamine release during anticipation and experience of peak emotion to music; Nature Neuroscience 14, 257–262 (2011) Valorie N Salimpoor, Mitchel Benovoy, Kevin Larcher, Alain Dagher & Robert J Zatorre