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Letzte Aktualisierung: 23.05.13 mehr...

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News

School of Visual Arts Students Hack Wanted Design Show

Students present a exhibit that allows visitors to experience the event in new ways.
Veröffentlicht am 21.05.13 von Margaret Badore mehr...
Kerstin Hack: Dankbarkeit – die Wunder im Alltag wahrnehmen

Neu in der Lesbar: Kerstin Hack schreibt über die lächelnde Haltung, die die Wunder des Alltags willkommen heißt. Über Dankbarkeit. Hier geht es zur Lesbar.
Veröffentlicht am 20.05.13 von kerstin mehr...

Scientists hack photosynthesis for electricity

Photo: Adam Sofen/Flickr

Veröffentlicht am 15.05.13 von Russell McLendon mehr...

Kerstin Hack: die Facetten der Liebe

Neu in der Lesbar: Kerstin Hack nähert sich dem Begriff der Liebe und ihrer Facetten – von Philia, Agape und Eros hin zur Gottesliebe. Hier geht es zum Artikel.

Veröffentlicht am 06.05.13 von kerstin mehr...

How To Hack Big Energy Savings With a Simple Sign and a Revolving Door

It slips into buildings, slaps us in the face, and sends shivers down our spines: we have all felt the chill of cold air that rushes through an open door. I doubt that I am the only person annoyed by uncomfortable drafts, which is why I am often surprised when so many of us use swinging doors instead of revolving doors. I recently noticed this at Columbia University's new "Northwest Corner" building, which rises 14 stories, is clad in a beautiful aluminum facade, and has LEED Gold certification. Yet, the air that escapes its frequently-opened swinging doors seems to defeat the building's energy efficiency. Invented in 1888, the first revolving door was designed to prevent wind, snow, rain, dust, or noise from entering buildings. In comparison, swinging doors exchange eight times more air. Revolving doors also allow people to enter and exit buildings at the same time without running into each other. We usually see revolving doors in large buildings—the same buildings that account for 18.6 percent of America's total energy costs. According to a 2006 study by MIT urban planning students, if everyone used revolving doors in a building, those buildings could save thousands of dollars a year, enough energy to heat 5 homes, and would avoid 14.6 tons of carbon emissions. These numbers are impressive, but multiply them by the total number of buildings that have revolving doors and the total impact would be massive. So how can we get more people to use them? I watched people entering and exiting 42 buildings and counted approximately 28 percent of them using revolving doors. I noticed three reasons why people used swinging doors: people followed the person in front of them through open swinging doors, door attendants opened them as people approached buildings, and because no signs instructed people to use the revolving doors (or the signs were small). In the 2006 study, the MIT students learned that some people think revolving doors are difficult to push, while others said they fear getting stuck or injured. While revolving doors need to be easy for everyone to use, most of the people I saw in midtown seemed to use swinging doors out of habit, without thinking twice about which door to use. After all, we spend nearly half of our time in the same locations every day, where we quickly form habits. The MIT students recommended several ways to motivate people to use revolving doors, including better signs. I wondered if better signs could disrupt people's habit of using the swinging doors at Columbia. There are no signs on the doors at Columbia, and only 29 percent of people chose the revolving doors. So I taped crude, 8.5" x 11" signs to the swinging door with a simple message: "Please Use Revolving Doors." The sign increased the number of people who used the revolving door to 58 percent, making it clear to me that a simple sign could prompt people to change their behavior. The second sign I made was smaller but had an arrow pointing to the revolving door. The average number of people who used the revolving doors only increased to 53 percent. My third sign spanned two feet long, was seven inches tall (allowing for larger letters), and it not only pointed in the direction of the revolving doors but also adopted the dark blue color of Columbia University to give it more authority. This larger sign caused 70 percent of people to use the revolving doors. It seems clear that even more people would use revolving doors if even larger signs were used on the swinging doors (or covered the whole door), but I resisted this temptation to test or install larger signs since I carried out these experiments discreetly. The best way to plug the draft in your lobby is by installing revolving doors, which pay for themselves in just a few years. And the best way to make sure people use your revolving doors is with effective signs. If you need new or updated signs, download the sign templates below to use at your building, or visit Small Disruptions. You can customize the templates with your color scheme, logo, address, and contact information. If you need a printer, check Inker Linker for one in your area. Then add the directional arrows to your swinging doors, the circular facts to your revolving doors, and use the 8.5" x 14" poster near the entryway.
Den ganzen Artikel im Blog GOOD lesen.

Veröffentlicht am 02.05.13 von andrewshea mehr...

Kerstin Hack: Not macht erfinderisch

Neu in der Lesbar: Kerstin Hack schreibt über die Zusammenhänge von Engpässen und kreativen Erfindungsleistungen.

Veröffentlicht am 25.04.13 von kerstin mehr...

Kerstin Hack: Berlin – meine Stadt – verstehen, sehen und lieben

Neu in der Lesbar: Kerstin Hack schreibt über Berlin, ihre Haltung zu dieser Stadt und wie Gott sie herausforderte, die Stadt mit anderen Augen zu sehen und sich für Veränderung einzusetzen. Hier geht es zum Artikel.

Veröffentlicht am 08.04.13 von kerstin mehr...

Google Glass: Jetzt mit Gesichtserkennung (Video)

Dass Google Glass mehr ist als eine Spielerei oder nettes Beiwerk, zeigt ein Hack, der die Digitalbrille mit Gesichtserkennungs-Software kombiniert.

Veröffentlicht am 15.05.13 von Dieter Jirmann mehr...

Fix Your Street Challenge: Tips & Resources

Maybe it's a street hack, like making your own bike lane with washable paint, or trimming that tree that's blocking the stop sign on the end of your block.

Veröffentlicht am 02.05.13 von Stef McDonald mehr...

How We Built a Community With Purpose by Hacking Crowdfunding

I didn't want to become one of those people. You know who I mean. If so, here's your MO: constant social media posts about your exercise routines. Status updates filled with pre-fab facts about the cause. You know who I mean. If so, here's your MO: constant social media posts about your exercise routines. Status updates filled with pre-fab facts about the cause. Endless e-mails asking for $10 more. Yet in February 2012, there I was. I had signed up for a fundraising walk—specifically, the Out of the Darkness Overnight held each year by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. I'd had a perfectly good reason for signing up: my sister, Jen, had asked me to. We lost our mom, Joan, to suicide in July 2011. Jen had done the responsible thing, learning more about suicide and connecting with people committed to understanding and preventing it. That February, my gig with Insight Labs happened to bring me to California, where Jen lives. I knew that suicide prevention was an important cause, but I didn't feel motivated to get involved. I didn't see myself in it. More importantly, I didn't see my mom in it—a pediatric nurse practitioner, she had access to all the suicide prevention resources in the world, yet still chose to end her life. So Jen and I did what we'd been doing for years. We realized that what we both wanted from the walk was pretty specific. We wanted to meet other people who had lost their moms to suicide. We had a hunch that this specific population would share our weird mix of feelings: our vast appreciation for the woman who brought us into the world as well as the anguish over not having her around. Being something of an information geek, I pointed out to Jen that we did have one resource that could change things: the web. All of the fundraising for the walk took place through the Internet, and every walker had a public profile. We could easily find the participants who had lost their moms. So we stayed up all night going through the profiles of all the other teams, giving $5 to each one walking in memory of a mom. We decided we needed a place for all these teams to find each other ahead of the event, so we created a page on Facebook and gave them the address. Instead, it turned out to be a dream come true. Other walkers were astonished that strangers had given them money. Several had already liked the Facebook page and said how eager they were to meet each other. Over the next few months, Jen and I discovered a new way to relate to the cause. Instead of advertising our own fundraising pages, we put most of our energy into promoting Mom Squad members who hadn't yet reached the minimum requirement for the walk. In addition to ensuring that these folks could participate, we raised thousands of additional dollars. In the process, we easily garnered enough attention to meet our own fundraising goals. You could call what Jen and I did a "hack." While the term draws its origins from the computing world, it can refer to any use of a system to accomplish a goal for which it was not intended. In one sense, Jen and I hacked the system of individual fundraising. We were using it not just to raise money, but to build a new network of people affected by a specific kind of suicide. But more importantly, I also discovered that I could hack the system of my own motivations. I had been reluctant to talk to others about my mom's suicide because I didn't want to seem as if I was playing the victim or asking for help. But when I was doing something on behalf of a specific group of other people, I discovered that I was eager to talk about what happened and how I felt about it. This year, Mom Squad is going for an even bigger hack. We searched the country to find more folks who had lost their moms to suicide, but who might not be able to attend the Overnight because of the cost of travel and lodging. We launched an Indiegogo campaign to cover those costs. So if you're my friend on Facebook on Twitter—well, yes, you're going to be seeing a lot fundraising posts in the next few weeks. If you'd like to help out Mom Squad, visit our website, our Indiegogo page, or our Facebook page. Later this year, Jen will be launching a broader project aimed at helping all those affected by the suicide of a loved one.
Den ganzen Artikel im Blog GOOD lesen.

Veröffentlicht am 26.04.13 von Andrew Benedict-Nelson mehr...

Wall Street Journal adaptation from Present Shock

Technology has always given us more control over time—especially now at the dawn of the digital age. Digital technology tends to make one minute look the same as any other. While our technologies may be evolving as fast as we can imagine new ones, we humans and our culture evolved over millennia and are slower to adapt. The body is based on hundreds, perhaps thousands, of different clocks, syncing to everything from the sun and moon to levels of violence and available water. We can't simply declare noon to be midnight and expect our body to conform to the new scheme as if it were a Google Calendar resetting to a new time zone. Instead of our offloading time-intensive tasks to our machines, we attempt to match the speed of our network connections. Thanks to the Internet, we travel more on business not less, we work at all hours on demand, and spend our free time answering email or tending to our social networks. Staring into screens, we are less attuned to light of day and the physiological rhythms of our housemates and co-workers. We are more likely to accept the digital clock's illusion that all time is equivalent and interchangeable. Sure, the always-on philosophy works well for many businesses. During overnight hours, cable channels like Home Shopping Network and QVC are still buzzing. Where department stores may wait until the end of the quarter to find out how a product line is doing, executives at QVC get sales reports as they happen. But too many of us also aspire to be "on" at any time and to treat the various portions of the day as mere artifacts of a more primitive culture—the way we look at seemingly archaic blue laws requiring stores to close at least one day a week. We want all access, all the time, to everything—and to match this intensity and availability ourselves: citizens of the virtual city that never sleeps. Ultraefficiency advocate Timothy Ferriss's book "The 4-Hour Body" teaches readers how to "hack sleep" by taking 20-minute naps every four hours instead of a single overnight stretch. We fetishize concepts such as the cyborg or human technological enhancement, looking to bring our personal evolution up to the pace of Apple system updates. Internet workers are expected to accept the cyborg ethos as a given. Google and Facebook welcome their engineers to work around the clock, providing food, showers, and even laundry service for their programmers. The bathroom stall doors have daily programming tips to read while sitting on the toilet. By letting technology lead the pace, we don't increase genuine choice or human competence at all. Designers base their fashions on the computer readouts of incoming calls from housewives at 1 a.m. Programmers expect themselves to generate the same quality code at 2 a.m. as they did at 2 p.m. earlier—and are willing to medicate themselves in order to do so. Human investors compete with algorithms trading at ultrafast speeds and responding to our orders before they are even executed. In each of these cases, the bloggers, designers, lovers, programmers, and investors all sacrifice their connection to real-world rhythms in order to match those dictated by their technologies. Reporters miss out on the actual news cycle and its ebb and flow of activity. Programmers work less efficiently by refusing to recognize naturally peak productive hours. Designers miss out on quite powerfully determinative cultural trends by focusing on the mediated responses of insomniac television viewers. Imagine, instead of trying to ride roughshod over these cycles, actually using or even exploiting recent discoveries about our common neurochemical responses to the four-week lunar cycle. Each week, a different neurotransmitter seems to dominate. One week, acetylcholine emphasizes new social contacts. In the next, serotonin enhances productivity. In the third, increased dopamine emphasizes risk-taking and recreation. In the last, norepinephrine heightens our analytic skills. It is an easy mistake to make. The opportunity offered to us by digital technology is to reclaim our time and program our devices to conform to our personal and collective rhythms. Computers don't really care about time. They are machines operating on internal clocks that aren't chronological, but events-based: This happens, then that happens. They don't care how much—or how little—time passes between each step of the sequence. Admittedly, this isn't easy for companies with shareholders who live for the hockey-stick-shaped earnings graph. But that is not the way either people or organizations function—especially not when we are using social networking technologies that connect us and in many ways amplify the rhythmic qualities of our living cultures.
Den ganzen Artikel im Blog Blog lesen.

Veröffentlicht am 14.03.13 von Douglas Rushkoff mehr...

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