Degringolade

Abstract Art / Arthur Dove/ Red Sun

Having some exchanges with Michael of late.  Can’t really say what he discusses is wrong.  Not at all certain that it is right.  I am thinking that it comes down to a  level of certainty and a level of precision.

Precision in a lot of the things we discuss every day as being important to us is a difficult thing to measure.  I think that this is especially hard for folks like me and Michael to deal with because of the ingrained prejudices native to “scientist” and “engineers”.   

But how much precision is possible outside of very established technologies.  Alloys made of specific mixes of metals and cast in precise billets can be said to have characteristics within a tight set of parameters.  When one goes to chemical processes, even with the tightest quality control of inputs, a structural engineer would be aghast at what a chemical engineer would be happy with.  It also follows that a chemical engineer would be aghast at what passes for precision in what was once laughably referred to as “genetic engineering”.  

Precision is a bugaboo for all and every.  The word itself is relative to the process being forced onto the procrustean bed of definition

I am going to ponder this further.  I have a feeling that the ideal of “precision” may well be part of our problem and why we are so fucked up.  

I’ll get back to you.