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{{a|devil|[[File:Oldsmobile whale damaged.jpg|450px|thumb|right|Umenhofer’s whale-flattened Regency 98]]}}
{{a|devil|<youtube>[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V6CLumsir34</youtube>
The theory of [[consciousness]] that asserts that a new personality emerges from the networked personalities of those in the organisation.
{{image|Oldsmobile_whale_damaged|jpg|Umenhofer’s “whale of a deal”.}}}}{{d|Hive mind|/haɪv/ /maɪnd/|n|}}


So, for example, the idea of displaying, in foot-high letters, “WINNING MINDSET” over the entrance to the ground floor lift lobby by way of clumsy neuro-linguistic programming of your worker-bees as they roll up for their daily toil is not a decision traceable to any particular individual (this is not to say that a single individual could not be so brazenly stupid, but that such a person wouldn’t admit to it without at least the diffusionary butt-covering afforded by the [[circle of escalation]]).
The theory of consciousness that asserts that a new, independent and better personality [[Emergence|emerges]] from the networked minds of those in an organisation. This new mind then generates its ''own'' ideas that are not traceable to any particular individual mind in the “hive”.


Rather, this springs fully formed out of the higher consciousness of the [[hive mind]].
The theory seems nice, accords with [[Evolution by natural selection|evolution]] and so on, but still — it is hard to identify any of these brilliant emergent ideas in the wild, since the first thing that anyone will do should they stumble on one is to claim credit for it.   
 
Therefore, no ''good'' ideas emerge from the hive mind. Just ''bad'' ones. What we are left with is a welter of transparently ''preposterous'' ideas that to this day lie unclaimed on the face of the collective: [[Debt value adjustment|debt value adjustments]], [[Enron Corporation|mark-to-market accounting for non-existent forward markets]], [[Performance appraisal|performance appraisals]], [[Goals|SMART]] goals, [[Crypto asset|cryptocurrencies]], [[non-fungible token]]s, and [[environmental, social, and corporate governance]]. 
 
Such poor ideas will persist and flourish as long as plausible livelihoods can be made from them, but they have a habit of imploding, catastrophically and without warning when the reality distortion field fails. Here, the hive mind comes into its own: as an emergent property of a super-brain, these bad ideas turn out to have been ''no-one’s'' idea, and therefore no-one’s ''fault''. Responsibility has been ''sublimated''. There has been a kind of [[Escalation|diffusion by escalation]].
 
In vain will regulators, auditors, and prosecutors look for culprits among burning wreckage, choking smoke and dazed staff, stumbling around outside the building clutching [[Iron Mountain box|Iron Mountain boxes]].


===The exploding whale===
===The exploding whale===
Or, for a more distant example, the celebrated — [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V6CLumsir34 check it out for yourself] 
Take the celebrated exploding whale of Lane County, Oregon, from 1970. See the entertaining news report in the panel.
What is most amazing here is not that onlookers, held behind barriers a quarter of a mile away, had to run for their lives while brick-sized lumps of stinking, fetid, whale flesh rained down on them from from the sky, but that no-one — not the highways authority, not the project manager, not the forklift driver, not the reporter, not the film crew, not the gelignite vendor, not the hundreds and hundreds of spectators — not a single one of them asked that most basic of questions: “you are proposing to detonate a rotting whale with half a ton of dynamite. Have you completely lost your mind?”
 
What is most amazing here is not that onlookers, held behind barriers a quarter of a mile away, had to run for their lives while brick-sized lumps of stinking, fetid, whale flesh rained down on them from from the sky, but that no-one — not the highways authority, not the project manager, not the forklift driver, not the reporter, not the film crew, not the gelignite vendor, not those hundreds and hundreds of spectators, fleeing for their lives — not ''one'' asked: “you are proposing to detonate a rotting sperm whale with half a ton of dynamite. Have you completely lost your mind?”
 
Well, ''one'' man did, and this is where the irony gets positively Homeric.
 
That fellow, one Walter Umenhofer, was a military veteran with explosives training. He came to the area to take advantage of a “''Get a Whale of a Deal!''” promotion in a nearby car dealership. When he heard the plan, he warned anyone who would listen that ''half a ton'' of dynamite was far too much. ''Four kilogrammes'' would be plenty.
 
But no, the hive mind knew best: his advice went unheeded. The hive mind went with half a ton.
 
Miraculously, no-one was hurt during the blast, which showered a half-mile radius with brick-sized bombs of rotten blubber.


Actually, one had, and this is where the irony gets positively Homeric. A certain Walter Umenhofer, a military veteran with explosives training who happened to be in the area to take advantage of a “Get a Whale of a Deal” promotion in a nearby car dealership, warned the crew that half a ton of dynamite was far too much. Umenhofer suggested 4 kg would be enough. His advice went unheeded.
There was just one casualty: a brand-new Oldsmobile Regency 98, purchased off the lot that day, which was flattened by a hunk of meat the size of a truck tyre. It was parked up while its owner, one Walter Umenhofer, beseeched the project manager, in vain, not to be so stupid as to use half a ton of explosives to remove a deal whale.


A whale of a deal, indeed.


Miraculously no-one was hurt during the blast. There was just one casualty: a brand new Oldsmobile Regency 98 was flattened by a  hunk of blubber the size of a truck tyre. It was Umenhofer’s new car. A whale of a deal, indeed.
{{sa}}
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*[[Emergence]]
*[[ClauseHub]]
{{ref}}

Latest revision as of 12:11, 4 January 2023

Umenhofer’s “whale of a deal”.
In which the curmudgeonly old sod puts the world to rights.
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Hive mind
/haɪv/ /maɪnd/ (n.)

The theory of consciousness that asserts that a new, independent and better personality emerges from the networked minds of those in an organisation. This new mind then generates its own ideas that are not traceable to any particular individual mind in the “hive”.

The theory seems nice, accords with evolution and so on, but still — it is hard to identify any of these brilliant emergent ideas in the wild, since the first thing that anyone will do should they stumble on one is to claim credit for it.

Therefore, no good ideas emerge from the hive mind. Just bad ones. What we are left with is a welter of transparently preposterous ideas that to this day lie unclaimed on the face of the collective: debt value adjustments, mark-to-market accounting for non-existent forward markets, performance appraisals, SMART goals, cryptocurrencies, non-fungible tokens, and environmental, social, and corporate governance.

Such poor ideas will persist and flourish as long as plausible livelihoods can be made from them, but they have a habit of imploding, catastrophically and without warning when the reality distortion field fails. Here, the hive mind comes into its own: as an emergent property of a super-brain, these bad ideas turn out to have been no-one’s idea, and therefore no-one’s fault. Responsibility has been sublimated. There has been a kind of diffusion by escalation.

In vain will regulators, auditors, and prosecutors look for culprits among burning wreckage, choking smoke and dazed staff, stumbling around outside the building clutching Iron Mountain boxes.

The exploding whale

Take the celebrated exploding whale of Lane County, Oregon, from 1970. See the entertaining news report in the panel.

What is most amazing here is not that onlookers, held behind barriers a quarter of a mile away, had to run for their lives while brick-sized lumps of stinking, fetid, whale flesh rained down on them from from the sky, but that no-one — not the highways authority, not the project manager, not the forklift driver, not the reporter, not the film crew, not the gelignite vendor, not those hundreds and hundreds of spectators, fleeing for their lives — not one asked: “you are proposing to detonate a rotting sperm whale with half a ton of dynamite. Have you completely lost your mind?”

Well, one man did, and this is where the irony gets positively Homeric.

That fellow, one Walter Umenhofer, was a military veteran with explosives training. He came to the area to take advantage of a “Get a Whale of a Deal!” promotion in a nearby car dealership. When he heard the plan, he warned anyone who would listen that half a ton of dynamite was far too much. Four kilogrammes would be plenty.

But no, the hive mind knew best: his advice went unheeded. The hive mind went with half a ton.

Miraculously, no-one was hurt during the blast, which showered a half-mile radius with brick-sized bombs of rotten blubber.

There was just one casualty: a brand-new Oldsmobile Regency 98, purchased off the lot that day, which was flattened by a hunk of meat the size of a truck tyre. It was parked up while its owner, one Walter Umenhofer, beseeched the project manager, in vain, not to be so stupid as to use half a ton of explosives to remove a deal whale.

A whale of a deal, indeed.

See also

References