bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025 huggingface dataset:
The Texture of Industry
Authors: Gordon Robert B. , Malone Patrick M.
Published: November 2020

While historians have given ample attention to stories of entrepreneurship, invention, and labor conflict, they have told us little about actual work-places and how people worked. Workers seldom wrote about their daily employment. However, they did leave behind their tools, products, shops, and factories as well as the surrounding industrial landscapes and communities. In this book, Gordon and Malone look at the industrialization of North America from the perspective of the industrial archaeologist. Using material evidence from such varied sites as Indian steatite quarries, automobile plants, and coal mines, they examine manufacturing technology, transportation systems, and the effects of industrialization on the land. Their research greatly expands our understanding of industry and focuses attention on the contributions of anonymous artisans whose skills shaped our industrial heritage.
The Factory
Authors: Gordon Robert B. , Malone Patrick M.
Published: November 2020

With Samuel Slater’s textile mill (1793, in Pawtucket, Rhode Island) and Eli Whitney’s armory (1798, in Whitneyville, Connecticut), American entrepreneurs began to make in factories products that had formerly been made in homes or craft shops. Another new concept in manufacturing, the principle of uniformity (sometimes described as “interchangeability”), was also winning converts in America. Factories making uniform products increasingly used power-driven machinery in the production process. However, it is a mistake to conflate mechanization, factories, and uniformity. Mechanization was used in colonial craft shops as well as in nineteenth-century factories. Until the late nineteenth century, factory managers achieved uniformity primarily through improved handwork skills and gauging rather than with machinery. Chapter 9 will cover the mechanization of work in factories as well as efforts to achieve uniformity in machine parts. Many of the best examples of early American factories are in New England, where there was a serendipitous combination of water power, entrepreneurial capital, and the artisanal skills necessary to build mills and machinery. The textile mills erected there had a powerful influence on the evolution of American factory architecture. As we look closely at a number of New England mills, remember that similar patterns of structural development can be found in other regions of the United States and that the basic forms of the textile factory were readily adapted for other types of industry, including the manufacture of wood, metal, and paper products. Factories were not the first industrial buildings in America, nor did they represent more capital expenditure than some of the early and costly ironworks. Two processes of textile manufacturing and finishing, the carding of fibers and the fulling of woven cloth, had been powered by waterwheels (and occasionally by draft animals) before the first successful factory was built in Pawtucket in 1793. Proprietors of shops and country mills usually operated their enterprises directly with little of the managerial hierarchy and division of labor that would appear in the full-blown factory system. Shops lacked the factory’s sequential organization of powered machinery and its extensive mechanization through multiple stages of production.
Cafeteria Commies
Authors: Cohen Robert
Published: November 2020

Leadership in the collegiate transition from political apathy to activism came from the Left and initially it came with a New York accent. Almost all of Depression America’s early eruptions of student protest—including the student expedition to Harlan County, the Columbia free speech strike, and the City Colleges’ anti-tuition movement during the 1932 spring semester—either occurred on or were launched from campuses in New York City. Though consisting of only a small minority of the student body in New York, the city’s campus radicals were the best organized, most politically ambitious and militant student activists in the nation. New York’s emergence as the center of the student revolt of the early 1930s was largely the work of the National Student League (NSL), the New York-based radical organization responsible for orchestrating the first political protests by collegians during the Depression decade. The birth of the NSL in December 1931 marked the organizational beginning of student activism in the Depression era. Coming at a time when nationally militant political protest did not yet exist on campus, the NSL’s founding in New York attested that the city’s student activists were ahead of their time and of the rest of American undergraduates on the road to mass protest. The role that New York’s campuses played in igniting the student movement was facilitated by the city’s unique political climate. New York was the capital city of American radicalism during the Depression decade. Here the Communist Party, which during this decade became America’s largest radical organization, had its national headquarters and strongest following. The city was also a stronghold for the Socialist Party, which had considerable influence in metropolitan area labor unions. The radical intelligentsia too made New York its home and used the city as a base for publishing the nation’s most important leftist magazines and journals. Evoking the intense radicalism and heated ideological debate in New York during the Depression, Lionel Abel recalled that intellectually the city’s leftists “went to Russia and spent most of the decade there . . . . New York became the most interesting part of the Soviet Union . . .
The Spread of Laboratory Teaching, 1850-1870
Authors: Bonner Thomas Neville
Published: November 2020

“I still see the narrow, long hallway in the university building,” reminisced Albert von Kölliker, . . . where Henle, for lack of another room for demonstrations, showed us and explained the simplest things, so awe inspiring in their novelty, with scarcely five or six microscopes: epithelia, skin scales, cilia cells, blood corpuscles, pus cells, semen, then teased-out preparations from muscles, ligaments, nerves, sections from cartilage, cuts of bones, etc. . . . Something of the excitement and sense of adventure conveyed to students by the early use of the microscope in teaching is reflectedin Kölliker’s words and those of other students of the 1830s and 1840s. But at that time, few students anywhere had had direct, personal experience in the use of the microscope or other laboratory instruments, and indeed not many teachers believed that such experience was important to the education of the average student of medicine. New improvements in the microscope in the late 1830s had made it feasible to consider using the instrument for teaching purposes, but what were its pedagogical advantages? Of what value was it at the bedside if a physician were skillful in using the microscope and could do simple chemical tests? No one questioned the advantages afforded by the new chemistry and physics to those who used them in research in a special workplace, now called the laboratory, but the “belief that practical experience [in a laboratory] was important for all students, not merely for a small elite” constituted the real pedagogical revolution in the teaching of medicine. Like the earlier shift to clinical teaching, the transition to laboratory teaching, including the use of the microscope, came slowly and sporadically, had roots in the immediate past, was justified by its practical uses, and was shaped by a variety of educational and political circumstances in each country. Just as some contemporaries as well as later admirers reified the French achievement in clinical teaching because of the simultaneous scientific advances and superb opportunities opened to students in the Paris hospitals, so the remarkable pedagogical opening and research achievements of the German laboratory were extravagantly admired by visitors and later writers alike.
Surface Wind Waves
Authors: Kraus Eric B. , Businger Joost A.
Published: November 2020

Rhythmic and monotonously repetitive, but quite unpredictable in its details, the structure of the sea surface is an epitome of the natural world. Surface waves have been studied actively by mathematicians and physicists since the dawn of modern science. Though the phenomenon seems deceptively simple, it cannot be explained or predicted rigorously by existing theories. Nonlinear interactions between wind, waves, and currents cause theoretical problems as well as make it difficult to obtain comprehensive, interactive data sets. In response to wind and pressure changes at the air-sea interface, the ocean reacts with waves that occupy some nine spectral decades: from capillary waves, which undulate within a fraction of a second over distances smaller than one centimeter, to planetary waves with periods measured in years and wavelengths of thousands of kilometers. The dynamics of all these waves can be related to the set of equations discussed in Section 4.1. For that reason, a consideration of all wave forms could have been combined in the same chapter, but we found it more convenient to divide the subject into two parts. The present chapter deals exclusively with wind-generated waves at the sea surface. They determine the small-scale configuration of the air-sea interface and that affects the turbulent transfers, which are the topic of the following chapter. On the other hand, information and energy transports from the sea surface into the ocean interior by internal and inertial waves, depend upon the state of the upper layers of the ocean. This made it desirable to discuss these wave forms in Chapter 7, after the consideration of planetary boundary layers in Chapter 6. Small-amplitude or linear, harmonic surface waves are considered in Section 4.2. Analysis of these waves has been the classic approach to the topic. Linear waves represent an idealized abstraction, but their analysis does provide basic insights into actual wave dynamics. Linear approximations have to be abandoned when one considers the energy and the momentum of wave fields. This is the topic of Section 4.3. In Section 4.4 we discuss the various sources and sinks of wave energy and momentum.
Chemical Potential
Authors: Bayly Brian
Published: November 2020

The purpose of the first chapter was to give an overview of the book’s contents: the topics covered, results gained, limitations, and so on. The next seven chapters, starting with this one, give the groundwork on which the main conclusions are based. The intention is to assemble the needed ideas, taking advantage of the fact that an extensive literature exists in which the ideas are established, discussed, restricted, etc. What follows is thus an extract of selected essentials from other documents, rather than being a free-standing and self-contained development of the ideas. The reader is asked to relate the ideas as summarized here to the longer discussions in which they appear elsewhere. The total energy in a portion of material can be split in either of two ways: . . . Total energy = internal energy + external energy, or . . . . . . Total energy = free energy + bound energy . . . In symbols, . . . U + PV = total = G + TS . . . where U = internal energy of the portion; G = free energy of the portion, specifically the Gibbs free energy or enthalpy; P = pressure; V = volume of the portion; T = temperature; S = entropy of the portion. All the terms except the free energy, G, have independent definitions, so the equations just given define that quantity: . . . G = U + PV – TS (2.1) . . . The equation relates to whatever portion of material one has in view. We now suppose that the material has n components and that, in the portion considered, the masses of each are m1, m2, . . . , mn. Then we imagine increasing m1 by a small amount δm1 while keeping P, T, and m2, m3, . . , ,mn constant. Let the consequent change in G be δG: then the limit of the ratio δG/δm1 as δm1 → 0 is the quantity of interest, henceforth written μ1; it is the chemical potential of component 1 in the material at its current pressure, temperature, and composition.
Conservation
Authors: Bayly Brian
Published: November 2020

To show the purpose of this chapter, Figure 8.1 is repeated from the end of Chapter 5. The idea we use to draw together the two threads is the idea of conservation, e.g., of heat or mass. The central thought concerns a small volume inside a continuum, which we imagine together with its bounding surface: if we focus on something that can flow across the surface, such as heat, and designate by Q the quantity of heat inside the surface, then: . . . dQ/dt = (rate of flow in) — (rate of flow out) + rate of creation of heat by processes occurring within the boundary . . . Where mass is the thing that flows, one is often justified in assuming that no mass is created or destroyed within the boundary; when Q designates mass then, . . . dQ/dt = (rate of flow in) — (rate of flow out) . . . A volume-element that is particularly simple to imagine is an orthogonal block as in Figure 8.2.
Introduction
Authors: Bayly Brian
Published: November 2020

In Chapters 2 through 9, ideas were introduced as follows. (Al) When considering movement of material, a useful idealized relationship is of the form . . . Flux along direction x = –k ∂(potential) /∂x . . . (10. 1) (A2) Movement of material occurs in nonequilibrium situations, whereas potentials are defined with fewest complications in equilibrium situations. (A3) Ideas (1) and (2) can be fitted together by finding, for any actual nonequilibrium situation, a set of imaginary associated equilibrium states. If well chosen, the imaginary states provide potentials that, by entering the right-hand side of eqn. (10.1), serve as a guide to the flux in the real state.
Deformation and Diffusion: Quantitative Relations
Authors: Bayly Brian
Published: November 2020

The purpose of this chapter is to put the ideas of Chapter 11 into quantitative form. The first step is to link L0 to N and K; L0 is the arc-length of the imaginary quarter-cylinders in Figure 11. 5b, N is the material's viscosity (Pa-sec), and K is its coefficient for pressure-driven self-diffusion (m2/Pa-sec). The point emphasized in Chapter 11 is that if two migration paths exist, one curved and one straight, but both having the same length and the same variation of normal-stress components along their length, migration will be equally vigorous along the two paths. Further, the shortening rates at the source-ends of the two paths will be equal. The procedure used to find the relation of L0 to (NK)1/2 is to write the two shortening rates and equate them.
OTEC Closed-Cycle Systems Cost Evaluation
Authors: Avery William H. , Wu Chih
Published: November 2020

Innovative technologies such as OTEC achieve commercial development when potential investors decide that the return on the investment will repay the estimated development costs plus a profit, with an acceptably low risk of cost overruns. Industrial experience shows that the estimated cost to complete development of a new technology generally increases as development proceeds from the conceptual design through pilot development, demonstration, field testing, and final commercial manufacture (Merrow et al., 1981). The ratio between final cost and initial design estimate is strongly dependent on the extent to which the manufacturing process employs already developed equipment, procedures, and facilities. New projects that require “high technology” for their success, such as jet engines or nuclear power plants, have been characterized by large underestimates of the final costs, whereas the costs of projects that are firmly based on existing technology, such as the development of “supertankers,” have been accomplished well within the usual industrial uncertainty margin of ± 15 to 20%. The accuracy of the estimate is also strongly dependent on the thoroughness of the systems engineering evaluation that is done before development proceeds. Commercial applications of OTEC have been proposed in three principal categories. The first includes OTEC power plants mounted on floating platforms that would generate 50- to 400 MWe (net) of onboard electric power. The need to minimize plant size makes it mandatory to use closed-cycle OTEC for these applications. The second category includes land-based or shelf-mounted plants designed to supply power in the 50- to 400-MWe range to municipal utilities. Either open- or closed-cycle systems could be suitable. The third category comprises small (5- to 20-MWe) land-based or shelf-mounted OTEC plants designed for island applications where electric power generation, mariculture, fresh-water production, supply of cold water for air-conditioning systems, and fuel production could be combined to offer an economically attractive OTEC system despite the relatively high cost of power for small OTEC installations. Open-cycle OTEC plants may be the preferred choice for the third category. The estimated investment costs of installed complete OTEC systems, measured in dollars per kilowatt of net OTEC electric power generated, differ significantly among the three categories.
Economic, Environmental, and Social Aspects of OTEC Implementation
Authors: Avery William H. , Wu Chih
Published: November 2020

The financial analyses presented in Chapters 7 and 8 indicate that commercial development of OTEC will have a significant impact on the economics of U.S. energy production and use. Two scenarios for commercial development are examined in this section: 1. Development of OTEC methanol capacity sufficient to replace all U.S. gasoline produced from imported oil. 2. Development of OTEC ammonia capacity sufficient to replace all gasoline used in U.S. transportation. Commercialization of this option implies a project goal to produce methanol plantships with enough total methanol capacity to replace the gasoline used in the United States that is now produced from imported petroleum, 47 billion gallons of gasoline in 1990 (DOE/EIA, 1990). This would require a total of 427 200-MWe plantships, each producing 199 million gallons of methanol per year (1.8 gallons of methanol give the same automobile mileage as 1 gallon of gasoline. We assume financing based on an initial nominal plant investment of $960M (1990$) and an eighth plant investment of $664M. With repeated manufacture, the cost will be reduced to $438M for the 427th plantship, assuming that an experience exponent of 0.93 applies for all production of identical plantships after the first three. The average plant investment for the total production is then $507M. If financial support is maintained to complete the program, the year 2020 is a reasonable target date for achieving the full fuel production capacity. This implies construction of OTEC plantships at an average rate of 17 per year after commercial production is established. This rate could be accommodated in U.S. shipyards with feasible modifications to satisfy specific OTEC requirements. The U.S. shipbuilding facilities are discussed in Section 4.1. In addition to the investments required for OTEC, methanol automobiles must be in production, and distribution systems for methanol must be installed. The associated costs must be included in the financial analysis. Offsetting these costs are the savings resulting from: 1. Large improvements in the U.S. balance of trade through elimination of oil imports. 2. Tax receipts accruing from reinvigorated U.S. shipbuilding and associated manufacturing industries. 3. Economic benefits of stabilized world fuel prices.
Classification and Organization of Programs
Authors: Dryfoos Joy G.
Published: November 2020

Simulated risk estimates provide a quantitative framework for addressing the need of a significant number of children in the United States who are in dire straits: failing in school, delinquent, taking drugs, and having unprotected intercourse. Of the 28 million girls and boys aged 10 to 17, it is estimated that 1 in 10 (almost 3 million) are in critical situations. Another group of 4 million (15%) have excessively high prevalence rates for some but not all of the high-risk behaviors. Thus the future of 7 million youth—one in four in this country—is in jeopardy unless major and immediate changes are made in their school experiences, in their access to opportunities for healthy adolescent development, and in the quality of life in their communities. The children and their families require intensive support services to ameliorate their problems. The school systems must undergo rapid reorganization to respond to the needs of the families in these communities. Another 25 percent of youth (7 million) are at moderate risk, because of school problems, minor delinquencies, light substance use, and early, but protected, intercourse. These young people would make up the target population for concentrated prevention approaches including school remediation, counseling, and comprehensive services. About half of the nation’s youth (14 million) experience few problems and are probably at low risk of negative consequences from their behavior, but they too require general preventive services and health promotion programs. And, of course, effective schools are a social necessity for everyone. From these rough estimates, it may be possible to conceptualize a more logical, less fragmented strategy for implementing programs aimed at reducing problem behaviors. It is apparent that some children need a great deal of help, others a little, and some not any. Interventions aimed at the common predictors or antecedents of behaviors may have a better chance of success than those that are focused on only one behavior, such as drugs or sex. It seems reasonable to conclude that fewer children would be failing to achieve if the separate categorical interventions of the past had been more successful.
Prevention of Substance Abuse
Authors: Dryfoos Joy G.
Published: November 2020

The literature on prevention of substance abuse is extensive, diverse, uneven, and difficult to summarize. It encompasses intensive reviews of drug education research in general, well-documented experiments with specific school-based interventions, more cursory articles promoting a program but lacking any outcome data, pamphlets advertising curricula, and assorted other materials. This range reflects the fuzziness of the subject of substance abuse prevention and the specialized interests of those who work on it. Some efforts focus only on preventing cigarette smoking, others on alcohol abuse, a few include all substance-related behaviors. In programs directed toward alcohol abuse, there is no agreement on whether the goal should be abstinence or responsible decision making. There is little agreement about whether programs should focus only on substance abuse or deal with more general issues related to the predictors of substance use, such as family bonding and school failure. One school of thought adheres to the position that substance abuse issues should be dealt with in the context of comprehensive health education. Another approach to the prevention of substance abuse takes us away from school-based programs into the area of public policy. This view suggests that behavioral change will result from enforcing restrictive laws and policies and creating broader media efforts aimed at the whole society rather than youth. Many people attribute the decline in cigarette smoking to drastic shifts in public opinion about its social acceptability and safety following the release of a Surgeon General’s report 25 years ago that documented the negative health consequences of smoking. It is true that the changes in behavior even among adolescents took place in the late 1970s, prior to the initiation of most smoking prevention programs in schools in the early 1980s. Teen smoking behavior has changed much less during this decade than the prior one. The Advocacy Institute has proposed a number of priority policy actions to prevent smoking which include creating smoke-free workplaces and public spaces, increasing excise taxes on cigarettes (assuming a 10 percent increase in tax produces a 12 percent reduction in smoking!), compelling cigarette manufacturers to assume liability for smoke-caused deaths and diseases, neutralizing or reducing cigarette advertising and promotion, and restricting sales to minors.
Planning Water Management: Corinth and Syracuse
Authors: Crouch Dora P.
Published: November 2020

The ancient Greeks could not afford inefficient and impractical cities. This one insight has guided my research ever since I attended the International Water Resources Association conference in Rome in 1986 and learned how concerned modern water engineers and policymakers are about careful utilization of water resources. We twentieth century Americans can afford waste, because we are both rich and spendthrift. But the ancients were living very close to the edge in an ecosystem that sustains human life only if it is carefully, respectfully managed. How successful they were in city site selection and in city building is evident from the fact that so many of their cities survived for such long times—Athens nearly 5000 years; the great capital Byzantium-Constantinople-Istanbul since the eighth century B.C., a lifespan of about 2800 years; and even obscure towns like Morgantina, Sicily, for 450 years. Given a hot and semiarid Mediterranean climate with rain only in the winter months, careful attention to water supply and distribution was essential for a Greek city. As long ago as the second millennium B.C., the Mycenaeans who lived in mainland Greece and the Minoans of Crete took great care of the water supply and drainage of their sites, using cisterns, wells, pipelines, rock-cut channels, and so on (Evans, 1964 reprint, vol. I, 103–05, 141–43, 333–36, 378–84, 389–98; Broneer,1939, 317–433; Mylonas 1966; Knaus, Heinrich, and Kalcyk, 1980). Because of the gap in the archaeological record, we cannot be sure whether any of their knowledge about water management survived the collapse of these civilizations and the 400 years or so of the “Dark Ages” that followed. Some ideas such as cisterns seem to be both so basic and so easy for a single family to execute, that it is likely their use persisted no matter how primitive conditions became. Others, such as the use of pressure pipes, seem to require a fairly sophisticated society and probably the existence of a group of architect-engineers to carry out the building process, and therefore we would not expect them to survive but to be independently re-invented when later Greek society reached technological sophistication.
Early and Late Examples: A New Look at Olynthos and Pompeii
Authors: Crouch Dora P.
Published: November 2020

The arrangements made in ancient cities for the management and use of water varied over the extent of the Greek world, depending on local topography and geology. They also varied by time period. In the absence of detailed whole-site studies, we can no more than suggest some of those differences. Our method will be to examine one early city and one late, looking for similarities and differences. The chosen examples share the useful (for us) feature of having been destroyed, so that their ruins preserve a set of arrangements not diluted by later habitation. The examples chosen are Olynthos in northeast Greece, destroyed at the end of the fourth century B.C., and Pompeii near Naples in southern Italy, destroyed in A.D. 79. A description of each will point out features that are typical for that time period, and we will conclude with a direct comparison of the two water management systems. Olynthos (Fig. 13.1) is located in northeastern Greece, at the base of the left peninsula of the set of three which also includes Mount Athos. Geological maps of the area (Institute of Geology and Mineral Exploration, “Geology of Greece” series (1:50,000), Athens, Greece, ca. 1984) show that a large limestone massif terminates just to the north of the site, and could be tapped for its karst waters. Indeed, a pipeline was found coming southward for five miles (D.M. Robinson, 1935, 219 ff and fig. 12; Robinson and Clement, 1938), from the springs near Polygyros and from northeast of the church of Hagios Nicolas. More traces of the line were observed in the plain. In Volume II of the Olynthos excavation reports (Robinson, 1930, 12), the line is thought to be sixth century because of some fragments of black-figure vases found with it in the dig, yet in Volume XII this aqueduct was declared fifth or fourth century because of its beautifully cemented joints with mortar of pure lime with a little silica (Robinson, 1946, 107). The line is described as having pipes about 3 inches thick (.45 centimeters), and therefore is probably a pressure pipe.
Conclusion: Adam’s Exile
Authors: Schwehn Mark R.
Published: November 2020

“In Adam’s fall/ We sinned all.” This ditty from the New England Primer belongs quite literally to the alphabet of early American schooling. Its theology belongs ultimately to Augustine, the author of the doctrine of original sin. But what became, for centuries after Augustine, one of the orthodox teachings of Western Christendom became for Henry Adams, the self-styled fallen American, a mere conceit, a presumptuous play upon a name. By subverting the Protestant ethic, Max Weber, Adams’s exact contemporary, formulated the modern academic ethos. By inverting the Augustinian version of the Christian story, Adams developed a beguiling image of the modern educated personality. I have tried in this essay to explore the considerable historical significance of these subversions. To read Max Weber is to understand the utterly distinctive character of the modern research university as itself the result of those forces of modernity that Weber analyzed as acutely and extensively as anyone else in the twentieth century. To read Henry Adams, feeling with profound ambivalence these same abstract forces of specialization, intellectualization, and disenchantment, is to witness the creation of the modern university graduate. Indeed, as I have tried to show here, Adams’s Education represents something of a modern manual of spiritual development from unity to multiplicity, from innocent wonder to “committed contextual relativism.” We have seen that Weber defined the modern academic vocation by transmuting a religious vocabulary drawn from the Reformed tradition. We have therefore reappropriated from the Reformed and from other religious traditions the language of the spiritual virtues to develop an alternative account of the academic calling. This redescription permitted us to see that many contemporary practices within the academy still depend for their success upon the exercise of the very spiritual virtues that the prevalent Weberian ethos would deny or obscure from view. In a manner and with a purpose very much like Weber’s, Henry Adams and James Joyce appropriated and sometimes subverted the mythic vocabulary of the great Biblical creation narratives in order to develop distinctively modem expressions of spiritual formation.
Simulation with Societies of Behaviors
Authors: Badler Norman I. , Phillips Cary B. , Webber Bonnie Lynn
Published: November 2020

Recent research in autonomous robot construction and in computer graphics animation has found that a control architecture with networks of functional behaviors is far more successful for accomplishing real-world tasks than traditional methods. The high-level control and often the behaviors themselves are motivated lay the animal sciences, where the individual behaviors have the following properties: . . .• they are grounded in perception. . . . . . . • they normally participate in directing an agent’s effectors. . . . . . . • they may attempt to activate or deactivate one-auother. . . . . . . • each behavior by itself performs some task useful to the agent. . . . In both robotics and animation there is a desire to control agents in environments, though in graphics both are simulated, and in both cases the move to the animal sciences is out of discontent with traditional methods. Computer animation researchers are discontent with direct kinematic control and are increasingly willing to sacrifice complete control for realism. Robotics researchers are reacting against the traditional symbolic reasoning approaches to control such as automatic planning or expert systems. Symbolic reasoning approaches are brittle and incapable of adapting to unexpected situations (both advantageous and disastrous). The approach taken is, more or less, to tightly couple sensors and effectors and to rely on what Brooks [Bro90] calls emergent behavior, where independent behaviors interact to achieve a more complicated behavior. From autonomous robot research this approach has been proposed under a variety of names including: subsumption architecture by [Bro86], reactive planning by [GL90, Kae90], situated activity by [AC87], and others. Of particular interest to us, however, are those motivated explicitly by animal behavior: new AI by Brooks [Bro90], emergent reflexive behavior by Anderson and Donath [AD90], and computational neuro-ethology by Beer, Chiel, and Sterling [BCS90]. The motivating observation behind all of these is that even very simple animals with far less computational power than a calculator can solve real world problems in path planning, motion control, and survivalist goal attainment, whereas a mobile robot equipped with sonar sensors, laser-range finders, and a radio-Ethernet connection to a, Prolog-based hierarchical planner on a supercomputer is helpless when faced with the unexpected.
The Stroh Formalism
Authors: Ting T. T. C.
Published: November 2020

In this chapter we study Stroh's sextic formalism for two-dimensional deformations of an anisotropic elastic body. The Stroh formalism can be traced to the work of Eshelby, Read, and Shockley (1953). We therefore present the latter first. Not all results presented in this chapter are due to Stroh (1958, 1962). Nevertheless we name the sextic formalism after Stroh because he laid the foundations for researchers who followed him. The derivation of Stroh's formalism is rather simple and straightforward. The general solution resembles that obtained by the Lekhnitskii formalism. However, the resemblance between the two formalisms stops there. As we will see in the rest of the book, the Stroh formalism is indeed mathematically elegant and technically powerful in solving two-dimensional anisotropic elasticity problems. The possibility of extending the formalism to three-dimensional deformations is explored in Chapter 15.
Steady State Motion and Surface Waves
Authors: Ting T. T. C.
Published: November 2020

The Stroh formalism for two-dimensional elastostatics can be extended to elastodynamics when the problem is a steady state motion. Most of the identities in Chapters 6 and 7 remain applicable. The Barnett-Lothe tensors S, H, L now depend on the speed υ of the steady state motion. However S(υ), H(υ), L(υ) are no longer tensors because they do not obey the laws of tensor transformation when υ≠0. Depending on the problems the speed υ may not be prescribed arbitrarily. This is particularly the case for surface waves in a half-space where υ is the surface wave speed. The problem of the existence and uniqueness of a surface wave speed in anisotropic materials is the crux of surface wave theory. It is a subject that has been extensively studied since the pioneer work of Stroh (1962). Excellent expositions on surface waves for anisotropic elastic materials have been given by Farnell (1970), Chadwick and Smith (1977), Barnett and Lothe (1985), and more recently, by Chadwick (1989d).
Generalization of the Stroh Formalism
Authors: Ting T. T. C.
Published: November 2020

It was shown in Chapter 12 that the Stroh formalism can be extended to elastodynamics when the problem is a steady state motion. In this chapter we will see several areas where the Stroh formalism can be generalized. First, the formalism is extended to a group of general boundary conditions that include as special cases the boundary conditions for a traction-free, a rigid, and a slippery surface. Explicit solutions are obtained for the Green's function and the image force in a half-space with a slippery boundary surface subjected to a line dislocation in the half-space. The Stroh formalism is then extended to thermo-anisotropic elasticity where we point out that applications to the interfacial crack may lead to a new and higher order stress singularity. Generalization of the formalism to piezoelectric materials results in an octet formalism for which there are four pairs of complex eigenvalues. Extensions of the Stroh formalism to three-dimensional deformations of anisotropic body require a special attention and are investigated in the next chapter. The Stroh formalism is in terms of the displacement u and the stress function ϕ, both 3-vectors. It is therefore most suitable for boundary conditions that are in terms of the displacement or the surface traction. For a slippery surface the normal component of the displacement and the two tangential components of the surface traction vanish. The boundary conditions are not in terms of u or ϕ, but a mixture of one component from u and two components from ϕ. This destroys the elegant sextic formalism of Stroh. We present here a generalized formalism that is applicable to a class of general boundary conditions. They include as special cases the boundary conditions for a traction-free, a rigid, and a slippery surface. The material presented below is taken from Ting and Wang (1992).
The Usability Challenge
Authors: Adler Paul S. , Winograd Terry
Published: November 2020

All too often, new technologies are introduced into the workplace without sufficient planning for their implications for the workforce. To the extent that businesses do plan for these implications, their approach is often governed by two related myths—the idiot-proofing myth and the deskilling myth. In each, technology plays a heroic role, rescuing efficiency from a workforce presumed to be unreliable. In the idiot-proofing myth, the hero is a machine so perfect that it is immune from the limitations of its users. System design based on this perspective is more concerned with how to keep operators from creating errors than with enabling operators to deal with the inevitable contingencies of the work process. The deskilling myth extends the idiot-proofing myth, offering a system so idiot-proof that the business can presumably get along not only with proportionately fewer workers, but also with workers who are on average less skilled and less expensive. Contradicting these myths, an emerging body of research suggests that in the vast majority of cases, new technologies will be more effective when designed to augment rather than replace the skills of users. The key challenge in designing new technologies is how best to take advantage of users’ skills in creating the most effective and productive working environment. We call this the usability challenge. To meet the usability challenge, industry needs to develop more appropriate usability criteria and to implement more effective processes to assure usability. This book provides a background of concepts and experiences that can offer insight into defining these criteria and processes. This introductory chapter situates the usability challenge in its organizational context, develops some core concepts of usability, and outlines the subsequent chapters’ contributions. Our first task is to articulate more clearly what we mean by usability. The design of systems for human use has long been associated with the discipline of “human factors,” in which the operator is seen as a component of a larger system, and the job of the designer is to produce an “interface” that ensures the most efficient fit of this component into the system.
Skill-Based Design: Productivity, Learning, and Organizational Effectiveness
Authors: Salzman Harold
Published: November 2020

The effective implementation of new technology, particularly computerbased systems, typically requires more, not less worker skill and judgment (Adler, 1986; Hirschhorn, 1984; Jaikumar, 1986; Majchrzak, 1988; Walton and Sussman, 1987). While a considerable body of evidence has accumulated in support of this proposition concerning technology implementation, we know much less about what this implies for technology design. In this chapter, I argue that an effective technology strategy needs to include new principles for the “skill-based design” of technology. These principles of skill-based design go significantly beyond considerations of traditional human factors and ergonomics to encompass both the process of designing systems and specific design principles, including features and functions of the technology. More generally, I submit that technology design is always explicitly or implicitly based on social as well as technical assumptions. This chapter will show how the social assumptions regarding human capabilities and motivations that underlie the dominant design principles, including those embedded in the seemingly objective calculation of economy and efficiency, are not optimally suited to current production requirements. The key social assumptions affecting cost-benefit assessments concern the nature and degree of workers’ involvement in production, specifically the assumption that worker activity is typically limited to the exercise of a few manual skills, and the assumption that production systems can be understood as mechanistic interactions of these limited skills with the installed technology. Since workers’ activity is assumed to be limited to the exercise of rote manual skills and to be based on limited production knowledge, workers’ participation in production problem solving or performance of skilled work is not valued. On the contrary, worker involvement is seen as an unquantifiable “risk” to system performance. Complex and costly equipment designs are therefore adopted to try to eliminate human intervention. The first part of this chapter suggests a contrast between two technology design philosophies: the traditional technology-based approach and the emergent skill-based approach. The second part examines the social assumptions underlying engineering design approaches through a review of books on the design of mechanical and electro-mechanical manufacturing equipment.
Enacting Design for the Workplace
Authors: Brown John Seely , Duguid Paul
Published: November 2020

Innovative design for the workplace runs up against inadequate understanding of both work and design practices. Ideas about work practices comprise an odd mixture of folklore and explicit, programmatic descriptions. Thus, paradoxically, a call for union members to “work to rule” can bring a workplace to a complete hall: no set of rules can describe or define what work really is. Conventional ideas about design practices are similarly limited. Indeed, Thackera (1988b) suggests that the whole concept of design is expanding so rapidly that an entirely new term is needed to encompass the range of issues designers now confront. Our purpose in this chapter is to bring some of the implicit character of work and design into the daylight, as a first step towards making design for the workplace more valid. We explore thirteen topics that we believe are central to understanding design for the workplace. We suggest that conventional design approaches often mask powerful but unnoticed resources that, if tapped, can contribute significantly to successful design. For example, a focus on explicit instruction obscures many other ways in which designs actually rely on valuable implicit understanding. Similarly, a focus on individual users conceals the community of users that develops around successful work systems or processes and is crucial to their successful use. To examine the important collateral resources that conventional design overlooks, we pair such concepts as individual-social, narrow-broad, centerperiphery. This is not to establish rigid dichotomies and thus threaten to shift existing imbalances from one inadequate extreme to another, but to expand the region of the “thinkable” in relation to work and design practices. In an insightful discussion of the way such dichotomies may tighten a noose rather than release it, Bourdieu (1989) describes “paired oppositions” as little more than “colluding adversaries” that “tend to delimit the space of the thinkable by excluding the very intention to think beyond the divisions they institute”. But the elements of most of our pairs (though not all, for a few remained stubborn) are presented here as mutually constitutive components of good design.
Introduction
Authors: Ashcroft E. A. , Faustini A. A. , Jaggannathan R. , Wadge W. W.
Published: November 2020

This book, obviously, is about multidimensional declarative programming. Many different languages and paradigms may be claimed to result in multidimensional declarative programming. We are most concerned with a programming paradigm where the existence of different dimensions (even temporary dimensions) enables algorithms to be expressed naturally. The latest version of the language Lucid uses dimensions in this way and we will use Lucid throughout most of this book. We will emphasize that Lucid is a language that embodies a particular style or paradigm of programming that we call intensional programming. Toward the end of the book there will be a chapter that indicates how other language features and capabilities could fit into this same paradigm. Therefore this book is about multidimensional, declarative, intensional programming, with examples given mostly in the latest version of Lucid. Lucid has been around since the mid-seventies [7]. Nevertheless, with its new poly dimensionality capabilities it provides a fresh approach to programming and, we hope, introduces declarative programming to a whole new audience. In addition, we often find it is useful to think of Lucid programs as manipulating geometrical entities, even though programs are actually implemented very simply i.e., without any data structures corresponding to those geometrical entities. Thinking of programs as manipulating geometrical entities adds a visual aspect to programs, while the fact that there are no actual structures in the implementation emphasizes that Lucid programs can be thought of in several different ways. We tend to think of programs, and variables in programs, at a very high level when writing programs and ignore the implementation details. Yet for a very high level language, those implementation details are surprisingly simple. Programs are written while thinking of large, multidimensional entities, and yet the implementation deals only with small fragments. In fact, we might modify an environmental movement slogan and say “program globally and implement locally.” By the end of the book the appropriateness and meaning of this slogan should be apparent. This introductory chapter begins by illustrating some of the novelty of the new Lucid with a very simple program for transposing a matrix.