Monday, June 2, 2025

Sinclair Centre - Canada's History


The Sinclair Centre in Vancouver, British Columbia, is on the 2017 Top 10 Endangered Places List. 

The Sinclair Centre is a downtown complex of four conjoined buildings – the former Main Post Office (1910), the R.V. Winch Building (1911), the Customs Examining Warehouse (1913) and the Post Office Extension Building (1936) – encompassing an entire city block in downtown Vancouver. These buildings have been a focal point for federal government services for over a century.  In 1986, the federal government invested $38 million to create the Sinclair Centre by rehabilitating the four buildings and connecting them with an atrium space and galleria walkways. All but the Post Office Extension are designated federal heritage buildings. The Centre buildings are also listed on the City of Vancouver’s Heritage Register and identified as prominent and highly valued heritage buildings. 

In 2015 the federal government sent a rezoning enquiry to Vancouver City Council asking it to consider dramatically increasing the current density on the Sinclair Centre site. The federal proposal could include an office tower of up to 29 storeys (the Centre is currently 7 storeys), almost tripling the current office space. A staff planning report to Council on the rezoning request said that, “A significant addition of office space to the Sinclair Centre could result in the loss of portions or all of one or two of the heritage buildings on the site.”

The development plans for the Sinclair Centre underscore the lack of protection of federal heritage buildings. Canada is the only G-8 country without laws to protect historic places owned by its national government. The existing Federal Heritage Building Policy (FHBRO) of 1982 is not binding on federal departments and is not enforced. In 2003, the Auditor General of Canada assessed heritage protection practices within several departments and reported that federal built heritage “will be lost to future generations unless action to protect it is taken soon.”

Now reading Time magazine Vol. 130 No. 18: The Crash (November 2, 1987)…

 


ASMR Chiropractor Exam & Adjustments (Cracking Sounds)



Saturday, May 31, 2025

Where Have All The Girl Scientists Gone? On Ada Lovelace Day, Let’s Amplify Female Voices In STEM


https://www.forbes.com/sites/drnancydoyle/2020/10/13/where-have-all-the-girl-scientists-gone-on-ada-lovelace-day-lets-amplify-female-voices-in-stem/

Ada Lovelace, for those of you who don’t know, was a Nineteenth Century mathematician who is widely credited with created the very first algorithm, that is a series of mathematical instructions designed to be carried out by a machine. Like many women, her story is minimized in history, and in particular where outdated, sexist theories persist such as “men are better than women at science.” I wanted to understand more about this problem, so I caught up with the fabulous Gina Rippon, Professor of Neuroscience at Aston University in the UK, and author of a wonderful book called “The Gendered Brain.” Professor Rippon has recently produced an extensive essay on this subject, which has been published on the “We Are Tech Women” website, run by Vanessa Vallely, I recommend a follow up read. She explained that playing the gender war in STEM subjects is not only limiting women’s equality, but also limiting our progress in science generally:

“21st century science has a problem. It is short of scientists. Technological innovations mean that the world needs many more specialists in the STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Maths) subjects than it is currently training. And this problem is compounded by the fact that women, despite clear evidence of aptitude and ability for science subjects, are not choosing to study STEM subjects, are not being recruited into the STEM workforce, are not staying in the STEM workplace.”

Why Don’t Women Do Science?

Professor Rippon walked me through the main “neurotrash” arguments about the female brain and its feebleness.

“There is a long and fairly well-rehearsed ‘blame the brain’ story, with essentialist or biology-is-destiny type arguments historically asserting that women’s brains were basically inferior (thanks, Gustave le Bon and Charles Darwin!) or too vulnerable to withstand the rigours of higher education. A newer spin on this is that female brains do not endow their owners with the appropriate cognitive skills for science. Specifically, they are poor at the kind of spatial thinking that is core to success in science or, more generally, are not ‘hard-wired’ for the necessary understanding of systems fundamental to the theory and practice of science.

The former ‘spatial deficit’ description has been widely touted as one of the most robust of sex differences, quite possibly present from birth. But updated and more nuanced research has not been able to uphold this claim; spatial ability appears to be more a function of spatial experience (think toys, videogames, hobbies, sports, occupations) than sex. And it is very clearly trainable (in both sexes), resulting in clearly measurable brain changes as well as improvements in skill.”

However, despite lack of clear evidence, spatial deficit continues to affect the research designs. Professor Rippon continues:

“The systems explanation, devised by Simon Baron-Cohen from Cambridge, is one ‘half’ of a neurocognitive model, with ‘Systemising’ a preference for rule-based ways of dealing with the world, a “drive to analyse, explore and construct a system”, and  ‘Empathising’ the need (and ability) to recognise and respond to others’ thoughts and emotions. He firmly links the former to a hard-wired male brain and the latter to a hard-wired female brain.  This ‘Man the Systemiser’ story, like the spatially deficient female version above, has not received unequivocal research support. The supporting evidence that does exist may, indeed, be a result of socially reinforced learning, which certainly muddies the water for those seeking a biology-is-destiny type, essentialist explanation for the lack of women in science.”

As a neurodiverse thinker, my ‘genius within’ is visual and spatial reasoning, so it’s never really chimed with me that men are better at map reading. My husband is rubbish! The inventor of GPS technology is a black woman called Dr Gladys West, of whom I could not even find a stock image for this blog. By limiting participation in STEM to our discriminatory stereotypes we are robbing the world of way more than half our potential innovators and inventors.

Is It Because We Don’t “Want” To?

Professor Rippon presented the latest round of reverse-engineered theorizing, where the goal is to create a hypothesis that makes sense of data, rather than check the data for biased, subjective reinforcement of the status quo:

“A paper published in 2018 reported the finding that women are more likely to be under-represented in the sciences in countries that have the highest levels of gender equality (think Scandinavia). This would appear to be at odds with claims that a lack of gender equality had been behind the lack of women in science; reducing the gender equality gaps should, therefore, have resulted in increasing numbers of women in science. This is called the Gender Equality Paradox (GEP).

Performance scores on tests of scientific ability showed no female-male differences, so the dearth of women could not be pinned on some kind of cognitive deficit. Behaviourally, the gender imbalance was explained in terms of economic decision-making. In the least gender equal countries, STEM jobs are better paid and so economic necessity drives the choices of both sexes; you (female or male) chose to do science because you had to. But in more gender equal countries, economic factors could take second place to the choice of a subject which ‘played to your strengths’. As the girls were almost universally better than boys at reading and reading-related skills, the researchers postulated that the girls from the more gender equal countries could get a greater sense of ‘efficacy and joy’[sic] by pursuing  humanities-type subjects, even though they were poorly paid.

There is a familiar whiff of biological determinism in the narrative exploring the findings. Reference is made to “endogenous interests” (undefined) in determining career choice, suggesting that a choice between science and humanities is somehow internally determined: “We hypothesize that men are more likely than women to enter STEM careers because of endogenous [own emphasis] interests……. Societal conditions can change the degree to which exogenous interests influence STEM careers (e.g., the possibilities of STEM careers to satisfy socio-economic needs). But when there is an equal playing field [own emphasis] and studying STEM is just as useful (balancing income and career satisfaction) as a degree in other areas, people are better able to pursue their interests and not simply their future economic needs.” There is an echo here of  the entrenched idea that women innately prefer working with people as opposed to things, and therefore avoid the allegedly thing-like quality of science professions – an echo certainly of Simon Baron Cohen’s Empathising-Systemising dimension.”

So the 21st century explanation of gender gaps in science is still linked to a ‘natural’ expression of some kind of innate differences. But how equal IS the playing field of science?

The Playing Fields Of Science – A Glass Obstacle Course For Women

It is well documented that, in previous centuries, women were proactively excluded from science and scientific institutions, leading inevitably to the stereotype of science being for men and scientists being male. Watch this video of primary school children falling foul of gender stereotypes in 2016 aged between five and seven.

"Having worked around barriers to entry, women may then encounter gender bias on the roads to success. There are many ways in which success is measured in science This can include first-author publications, citations, grant income, prizes. In all of these spheres, the operation of both conscious and unconscious bias against women is demonstrable.

With respect to publications, several studies have noted a marked gender imbalance, particularly in more prestigious journals, including those in the Nature portfolio. This does not appear to be related to quality, as there were no differences in rejection rates. A key factor appeared to be seniority, with more senior authors, of whom significantly more were male, having a higher output. Once published, a measure of a publication’s quality is how often it is cited. Again, there is evidence that papers with female key authors are cited less frequently. Two factors identified as relevant are that male scientists have wider and larger networks, where it is not uncommon that members cite each other; also that men are much more likely than women to cite themselves!”

This comment rang out at me loud and clear. Just this week I noted the almost complete absence of outstanding Sociologist Judy Singer’s work from the citation list of the major publications in the autism field. Over and over again her work has been minimized or erased from the narrative. To be clear, Judy Singer is the Grand Dame of the Neurodiversity movement, her rigorous, comprehensive and insightful thesis is published and should have been cited in all major Neurodiversity narratives and works as a matter of respect. This issue is exacerbated intersectionally, where black and brown voices are almost entirely excluded from the Neurodiversity field with a diagnosis deficit let alone professional presence. I recently introduced a podcaster to new names in order to increase representation in the narrative, people whose exceptional work had gone under the radar. I am wondering if Neurodiversity, dominated by technologists, is itself is institutionally racist and sexist.

The Chilly Climate Effect – Reintroducing The Brain

So when so we have to fight so hard for equality, what effect does this have on our work and potential contribution? Professor Rippon’s final comment packs a punch:

“A sense of belonging is a powerful motivational force, with negative social experiences linked to the same brain areas activated by real physical pain. Specialised networks of brain activity have been associated with the maintenance of self-esteem and the consequences of a loss of such esteem. Social rejection, low status, poor self-image and low levels of peer support have been shown to activate powerful inhibitory pathways in the brain associated with anxiety and depression and high levels of self-criticism. Behaviourally, this has been shown to result in a form of academic self-silencing and withdrawal. 

It is possible then, that the absence of women from science is indeed a brain problem, but not one to do with internally determined, individual cognitive capacity but one to do with the externally determined social context of science. Confronted with an institution which views them as probably inferior, possibly incompetent, (and should, ideally, be invisible), brain-driven processes may well determine that women will take their skills elsewhere. So a level (and welcoming) playing field does indeed seem to be important for the engagement and retention of well-qualified female scientists – and science needs to wake up to the fact that its playing fields are neither level nor welcoming.”

Armchair Activism: Hold The Door Open!

Wow. How can we change this? It’s time to start amplifying each other’s work more thoughtfully.

In my own life, I’m trying to make sure that I am referencing women of note in my own published work, informing conference organizers about talented women whose work should be recognized. We can do this for all women, include people from black and brown communities and  colleagues who do not come from privileged backgrounds where the networks to sidestep into a position of influence are lacking. My last piece was about the power of champions, I’ve had a bunch of powerful champions myself, many are female and some were also male. As a beneficiary, I’ve noticed that allyship is about doing things behind the scenes, people who acquire access and then hold the door open for others to follow. If we are to address the STEM talent chasm, and the challenges of the world, we are going to need diverse brains of all varieties working together.

So with that, a final thought: who do you know who could benefit from the access you have? To celebrate Ada Lovelace day, let’s all pick the people whose work we truly value, who are under recognized and take a few moments in our day to cheerlead our peers. We all lose when human potential is squandered. Who do you know who could benefit from the access you have?

Charles Babbage (1792-1871)


According to Swade (2000), “The nineteenth century was not only an age of reason. It was also an age of quantification in which science and engineering set about reducing the world to number” (p. 12). It was thus a time when persons with high-functioning autism could come to the fore, and one such person was the English mathematician Charles Babbage.

Babbage spent most of his life trying to build calculating machines: first a “difference engine” and then a more ambitious “analytical engine.” Astonishingly, the designs for the analytical engine “embody in their mechanical and logical detail just about every major principle of the modern digital computer” (Swade, 2000, p. 94). He is routinely referred to as the father, grandfather, forefather, great ancestor, or progenitor of the modern computer. He probably had autistic features but not the full syndrome of autism (i.e., PDDNOS; pervasive developmental disorder-not otherwise specified).

Life History

Charles Babbage was born in Teignmouth, Devon, in 1792. He was an autodidactic mathematical prodigy — a precociously accomplished mathematician — when he entered Cambridge at the age of 18. There, “disaffected, independent-minded and even rebellious, he pursued a programme of study of his own which favored the works of French mathematicians. Babbage was a radical: He admired Napoleonic France” (Swade, 2000, p. 18). Many geniuses have been autodidacts.

Babbage described his father as “stern, inflexible and reserved, perfectly just ... never generous ... uncultivated except perhaps by an acquaintance with English literature and history,” and said that he had no friend and was tyrannical (Swade, 2000, p. 22). Of note is the fact that the father suffered from extreme temper tantrums.

Babbage wrote first-class mathematical papers and clearly had an excellent mind. The Newtonian mind was an autistic mind. He wanted “the science of number (to) be mastered by mechanism. The ‘unerring certainty’ of mechanism would eliminate the risk of human error to which numerical calculation was so frustratingly prone” (Swade, 2000, p. 1). Infallible machines would compensate for the frailties of the human mind and extend its powers. No wonder persons with autism were attracted to this notion.

Babbage’s attitude toward God was like that of many much later scientists. He was expelled from Cambridge because he proposed a thesis to prove that God was material. This thesis might have shown naivety and a lack of empathy; putting it forward certainly showed a complete disregard for the religious atmosphere of the university. It was self-destructive.

In 1821 Babbage was “happily married and enjoying the life of a gentleman philosopher in Regency London” (Swade, 2000, p. 25). Clearly this is not typically autistic. Only four of his eight children lived, and his wife died in 1827.

He became obsessed with developing a “calculating engine,” about which he was very secretive. According to Swade (2000), he was “a fierce defender of moral probity” (p. 31).

Work

Babbage “was the great pioneer of computing and was equally famous on two counts — for inventing computers and for failing to build them” (Swade, 2000, p. 5). Babbage’s engine stimulated the debate about the relationship between the mind and the physical mechanism of the brain. The notion that the machine was in some sense “thinking” was not lost on Babbage or his contemporaries. Harry Wilmore Buxton (1988), a younger contemporary of Babbage and his posthumous biographer, noted that Babbage had substituted brass and iron for the pulp and fiber of a brain, and had taught wheelwork to think, or at least to do the office of thought.

Babbage advocated for decimal currency, speculated about linking London and Liverpool by speaking-tubes, and foresaw the exhaustion of coal reserves and the role of tidal power as a source of energy. He kept scribbling books — something like Ludwig Wittgenstein’s and the mathematician Paul Erdés’s notebooks — that ran to between 6,000 and 7,000 sheets.

With monumental effort, he developed a new engine called the analytical engine, which could be programmed by the use of punch cards. According to Swade (2000), the conception and design of the analytical engine ranks as one of the most startling intellectual achievements of the nineteenth century.

In a way this machine describes autistic thinking — the mind of the person with autism is a kind of analytical engine mind. Babbage possibly did not have autism, but he was trying to develop an autistic thinking machine — which really is what a computer is and why persons with autism are so fascinated by computers. Nevertheless, the anthropomorphization of the computer mechanism as an autistic mind is problematical, given the subtlety and irreducibility of every human mind — autistic and nonautistic alike.

Later Ada Augusta Lovelace, the only legitimate daughter of the poet Byron, took an interest in Babbage’s work. Lovelace herself might have had hyperkinetic syndrome; she certainly was quite narcissistic and regarded herself as a genius, which she was not. Nevertheless, she brought Babbage’s analytical engine to the public attention.

Social Behavior

Babbage was “stubborn, determined, and convinced of the justice of [his] own position” (Swade, 2000, p. 61). He was a very sensitive personality. He married quickly without his father’s approval and wrote to his friend John Herschel about the marriage without mentioning his wife’s name. Herschel was shocked by the letter and said to him, “I am married and quarreled with my father — good God Babbage — how is it possible for a man to calmly sit down and pen those two sentences — add a few more which look like self-justification — and pass off to functional equations” (Swade, 2000, p. 21). This is a very autistic behavior.

Babbage was hypersensitive. George Airy, Astronomer Royal, stated that in relation to the calculating machine, “Mr. Babbage made the approval of the machine a personal question. In consequence of this, I, and I believe other persons, have carefully abstained for several years from alluding to it in his presence. I think it is likely that he lives in a sort of dream as to its utility” (Swade, 2000, p. 23).

“Babbage behaved as though being right entitled him to be rude, and the strength of his conviction tended to make him insensitive to the effect of his actions on others. These caustic public attacks were a shocking breach of the conventions of the day” (Swade, 2000, p. 63). He was called the “irascible genius” (see Note 8), was dominating and controlling, and had an “immoderate rage.” His book “alienated the self-same people whose support he needed, and at the same time soured his relationship with the pre-eminent scientific body whose committees had three times recommended government support for his engine” (Swade, 2000, p. 64). He also had major arguments with his engine maker, Joseph Clement, which ended in total breakdown of the relationship, casting him in the role of enfant terrible.

Babbage worked in almost complete isolation. Maurice Wilkes, who studied his unpublished works, concluded, “Ever since going through Babbage’s notebooks, I have been haunted by the thought of the loneliness of his intellectual life during the period when, as he later tells us, he was working 10 or 11 days on the Analytical Engine” (Swade, 2000, p. 226).

There was little doubt that Babbage had serious social relationship difficulties. When his 17-year-old son left for India, Babbage “took his farewell in the library, not troubling to see his son to the waiting cab. His indifference was not lost” on his son (Swade, 2000, p. 172). In some respects he had a fairly similar social life to that of the philosopher Immanuel Kant (Fitzgerald, 2005).

Nevertheless, Babbage became “a sought-after dinner guest. He was a celebrity, an engaging raconteur, full of wit and exuberant invention. To be able to say ‘Mr. Babbage is coming to dinner’ was the pleasure and delight of any hostess” (Swade, 2000, p. 73). Babbage was seen as a bon vivant with a love of dining out and socializing, and a good host and raconteur. With his brightly colored waistcoats, he was also something of a dandy. This is not typically autistic.

According to Swade (2000), Babbage at the age of 60 was “completely left out. Not just ignored, but actively excluded. His reputation for confrontation and protest as well as his earlier radicalism made him ‘unclubbable” ” (p. 185). This is quite autistic. Babbage tended to make himself an object of ridicule. In later life he “wrote pitifully of solitude and loneliness, and revealed the despair to which his efforts, personal sacrifices and lack of recognition had at times reduced him” (Swade, 2000, p. 190).

At his funeral there was only one carriage — that of the Duchess of Somerset — and few mourners. It would appear that both Babbage’s genius and his failure might have been due to his high-functioning autism (if indeed he had this condition — the evidence is inconclusive). He failed in most professional relationships.

Narrow Interests/Obsessiveness

Swade (2000) noted, “The scope of his work was broad even by the generous standards of Victorian polymathy — mathematics, chess, lockpicking, taxation, life assurance, geology, politics, philosophy, electricity and magnetism” (p. 215). This is not typically autistic (although Thomas Jefferson also showed a wide range of interests and was almost certainly autistic). Nonetheless, Babbage became totally absorbed with his computing project by 1826, writing, “I did not pledge myself to devote my whole time exclusively to this project, yet I feel that the liberal and very handsome manner in which I was received at the Treasury would be but ill returned if 1 were to allow any other agreements to impede its progress. I have hitherto given up everything up for this object, situations far more lucrative ... have been sacrificed, and I should not wish to change these sentiments now that it is approaching, I hope, to a successful termination” (Swade, 2000, p. 47). The machine was clearly an obsession for him.

According to Swade (2000), Babbage was “entirely seduced by the intellectual quest and propelled by an unremitting fascination with its mechanical realization” (p. 114). He “was driven by the exploration of the possible. He had glimpsed some profound vision, and he beckons to us over the heads of his contemporaries” (Swade, 2000, p. 117). He felt enormous satisfaction from the process of invention, which kept him so narrowly focused, stating, “I have given up all other pursuits for the sake of this” (Swade, 2000, p. 118). Swade also pointed out, “His pursuit of practical detail came not from any clear ambition to build the machine, but rather from his drive for the mastery of technique and the relish of the intellectual exploration of an extraordinary new world in which he was the first inhabitant” (p. 122).

According to Swade (2000), “Babbage was an inveterate inventor, and delighted in instruments, contrivances and mechanical novelties of all kinds” (p. 177). He was also interested in breaking ciphers and did succeed in breaking one. He had a great capacity to focus and to work — so great that, like Ludwig Wittgenstein and Isaac Newton, people worried about his sanity.

Routines/Control

Babbage was “a stickler for propriety and a fierce defender of moral probity”; he was always expressing “righteous indignation about issues that offended his sense of fairness” (Swade, 2000, p. 31).

Language/Humor

Babbage was a great storyteller, like Hans Christian Andersen and Arthur Conan Doyle (both of whom may have been autistic — see Fitzgerald, 2005). The geologist Charles Lyell stated in 1832, “We have had great fun in laughing at Babbage, who unconsciously jokes and reasons in high mathematics, talks of ‘algebraic equatior’ of such a one’s character in regard to the truth of his stories ... I remarked that the paint on Fitton’s house would not stand, on which Babbage said ‘no, painting a house outside is calculating by the index of minus one,’ or some such phrase, which made us stare; so that he said gravely by way of explanation, “That is to say, | am assuming revenue to be a function.’ All this without pedantry ...” (Swade, 2000, p. 77). This type of thinking would typically reflect high-functioning autism.

Naivety/Childishness

Babbage set himself up as the “self-elected defender of the unwary by exposing scam, craft or infelicitous misrepresentation” (Swade, 2000, p. 50). When government funds ran out, he invested his own money in the project, which was naive.

He wrote a very naive book violently attacking the Royal Society, the premier scientific society of the day in England. He named people and made many accusations against them. This act seems hyperkinetic and impulsive.

He also mishandled his intervention with the Duke of Wellington, then foreign secretary. He was an extraordinarily poor communicator with politicians and frequently made major enemies. The fact that he talked to so few people about his engine probably interfered with its progress. The only place he presented it with great detail was at a meeting he held in Italy. He lacked diplomatic skills.

Anxiety/Depression

Babbage suffered from considerable depression at times, and tried to allay it with work. For example, he wrote Passages from the Life of a Philosopher while in a most distressed state. It reveals “practically nothing of his emotions or of the state of mind he was in when he set off from England” on a continental tour (Swade, 2000, p. 54). This is a kind of autistic style of autobiography. He was quite depressed in 1829, and wrote that he had suffered so severely in health that all his friends, especially the medical ones, were urging him to put his work to one side (Swade, 2000).

Mode of Thought

A scientist and administrator, Lyon Playfair stated, “Babbage was full of information” (Swade, 2000, p. 81). Swade pointed out that it was perhaps no accident that “Pascal and Leibniz in the seventeenth century, Babbage and George Boole in the nineteenth, and Alan Turing and John von Neumann in the twentieth — seminal figures in the history of computing — were all, among their other accomplishments, mathematicians, possessing a natural affinity for symbol, representation, abstraction and logic” (2000, p. 84). The relationship between the rules of logic and “laws of thought” tantalized the thinkers of Babbage’s generation.

Idiosyncrasies

Eccentricity/esotericism. He was very sensitive to noise and organ grinders. He was an eccentric and comic figure. At the end of his life he “spoke as if he hated mankind in general, Englishmen in particular, and the English Government most of all” (Swade, 2000, p. 216).

Lack of common sense. Babbage had a great capacity for self-destruction and was headstrong. His lack of empathy and common sense was shown by the thesis he attempted to defend in the university (i.e., that God was a material agent). It was hardly surprising that he failed in this thesis, which was seen as blasphemous. This rebelliousness and lack of savoir-faire were to seriously impair his career.

Narcissism. Babbage was quite narcissistic and, according to Swade, “ached for recognition, titles and civil honors and growled at their lack.” He was hardly likely to get these with the way that he criticized people (2000, p. 138).

Conclusion

It is possible that in Babbage we have a mathematician of genius who was not autistic, as there are signs both for and against. Against the notion of Asperger Syndrome was the fact that “at Cambridge he enjoyed student life to the full. He formed an enduring friendship with John Herschel ... He played chess, took part in all-night sixpenny whist sessions, and bunked lectures and chapel to go sailing on the river with his chums” (Swade, 2000, p. 18). This does not sound like Asperger Syndrome. Some of Babbage’s characteristics, such as his dandyism and love of socializing, would be more suggestive of hyperkinetic syndrome.

- Michael Fitzgerald, Former Professor of Child & Adolescent Psychiatry