Showing posts with label Samizdata. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Samizdata. Show all posts

In my ongoing quest to read science fiction with sensible politics and economics, I thought I would give Robert Charles Wilson a try and am reading his novel Spin, which is very enjoyable so far. On his web site he has published some talks he has given, including this:



Total up the man-hours necessary to bring even a cheap conventional color TV into your home, and the result, I suggest, would be absolutely staggering. And that work in turn rests on an absolutely colossal body of prior knowledge, all of it generated piece-by-piece and preserved and transmitted over generations.



This reminded me of the famous pencil essay. He is writing about all the things that went into making a TV advert for a car:



So even something as inherently humble as an automobile commercial stands as striking evidence that we, as a species, have an absolute genius for collaboration. Even without conscious intent — and after all, of all the billions of people necessary to produce that ad, only a handful of them actually wanted it to exist — we can still create something in which our collective ingenuity is embedded and embodied.



Of course, he doesn’t mention what mechanism makes this collaboration possible, but we all know what it is.






via Samizdata http://www.samizdata.net/2013/05/robert-charles-wilson/

This Comment is Free article, The Dark Side of Home Schooling by Katherine Stewart, claims that:



Several decades ago, political activists on the religious right began to put together an “ideology machine”. Home schooling was a big part of the plan. The idea was to breed and “train up” an army of culture warriors. We now are faced with the consequences of their actions, some of which are quite disturbing.


According to the Department of Education, the home schooling student population doubled in between 1999 and 2007, to 1.5 million students, and there is reason to think the growth has continued. Though families opt to home school for many different reasons, a large part of the growth has come from Christian fundamentalist sects. Children in that first wave are now old enough to talk about their experiences. In many cases, what they have to say is quite alarming.



The article mainly consists of quotes from people who have posted at a website aimed at those who are unhappy with their home schooling. We hear that some of them have suffered from “depression, distrust of authority, and issues around sexuality.” It concludes, “Families should be allowed to pursue sensible homeschooling options, but current arrangements have allowed some families to replace education with fundamentalist indoctrination.” In other words it is a run-of-the-mill article protecting the class interest of teachers at US state schools.


However, the picture the Guardian chose to illustrate the piece was out of the ordinary.


Commenter JohnCan45 says,



The accompanying photo of a shuttered home in Cleveland… reason?

Perhaps the editor just mixed up a picture from this week’s big story, but maybe they didn’t. And that would be pretty cheap.



Seriously, that’s the picture illustrating this article. Go look at it now – it may change later. It shows a picture of a white clapboard house with the windows boarded up. And in case you didn’t get what that meant, the caption says, “A house in Cleveland, Ohio. Photograph: Timothy A Clary/AFP”.


It does not appear to depict the house in Cleveland, Ohio with the windows boarded up in which three women were imprisoned, raped and brutalised for a decade and in which a child was born as a result of one of these rapes and lived her life in captivity. Oh, but, wait! The little girl was “home schooled”. That must be the connection.


What estimate the Guardian makes of its readers can be judged by its evident belief that a smear by association of such crudity would work on them. The degree to which this estimate is correct can be judged by the readers’ comments.






via Samizdata http://www.samizdata.net/2013/05/breathtakingly-crass-propaganda-by-picture/

To the political class, whatever the rhetoric, government programs aren’t tools for improving the country. They’re tools for acquiring the main goal of the political class: more power…


- Glen Reynolds (All hail to the Blogfather… PBUHH) in USA Today – April 29, 2013






via Samizdata http://www.samizdata.net/2013/05/samizdata-quote-of-the-day-286/

It seems that another pandemic panic may be about to strike. (Thank you Instapundit, who seems a bit panic-stricken himself.)


It so happens that I have recently acquired and have been reading Matt Ridley’s excellent book, The Rational Optimist , which Johnathan Pearce has often blogged about here, in this posting, for example. (Here is a piece by Ridley, defending his book against Monbiot.)


And it further so happens that The Rational Optimist contains a very interesting passage (pp. 308-310), which I already had in mind to flag up here, even before this latest news of another flu outbreak, about the spread of infectious diseases, which explains why any pandemic panic that now materialises is likely once again to be greatly exaggerated:



In the 2000s influenza, too, proved to be a paper tiger. H5N1 strains of the virus (‘bird flu’) jumped into human beings via free-range ducks on Chinese farms and, in 2005, the United Nations predicted five million to 150 million deaths from bird flu. Yet, contrary to what you have read, when H5N1 did infect human beings it proved neither especially virulent nor especially contagious. It has so far killed fewer than 300 people worldwide. As one commentator concluded: ‘Hysteria over an avian flu pandemic has been very good for the Chicken Little media, authors, ambitious health officials, drug companies … But even as many of the panic-mongers have begun to lie low, the vestiges of hysteria remain – as do the misallocations of billions of dollars from more serious health problems. Too bad no one ever holds the doomsayers accountable for the damage they’ve done.’


I suspect this is too strong, and that flu may yet mount a serious epidemic in some form. But the H1N1 swine flu epidemic of 2009 that began in Mexico also followed the usual path of new flu strains, towards low virulence – about one death for every 1,000-10,000 infected people. This is no surprise. As the evolutionary biologist Paul Ewald has long argued, viruses undergo natural selection as well as mutation once established in a new species of host and casually transmitted viruses like flu replicate more successfully if they cause mild disease, so that the host keeps moving about and meeting new people. A victim lying in a darkened room alone is not as much use to the virus as somebody who feels just well enough to struggle into work coughing. The modern way of life, with lots of travel but also rather more personal space, tends to encourage mild, casual-contact viruses that need their victims to be healthy enough to meet fresh targets fleetingly. It is no accident that modern people suffer from more than 200 kinds of cold, the supreme viral exploiters of the modern world.


If this is so, why then did H1N1 flu kill perhaps fifty million people in 1918? Ewald and others think the explanation lies in the trenches of the First World War. So many wounded soldiers, in such crowded conditions, provided a habitat ideally suited to more virulent behaviour by the virus: people could pass on the virus while dying. Today you are far more likely to get the flu from a person who is well enough to go to work than one who is ill enough to stay at home.



Of course the pessimists could be right, in this or that particular instance. And of course we here are very pessimistic about the future course of the world’s current financial crisis. That is surely going to get far worse before it gets much better. I recall reporting here on a debate on that subject, where the other side was taking it for granted that the crisis that had just happened was now over and done with, and the only question concerned how best to “manage the recovery”. We here regard the people who talked like that, then, as the Chicken Little tendency.


And Matt Ridley himself is careful to include doubts about future flu outbreaks maybe not all being so un-apocalypctic. “Flu may yet mount a serious epidemic in some form.”


Nevertheless, interesting. And it will be interesting to see how this latest flu flare-up plays out.






via Samizdata http://www.samizdata.net/2013/04/18111/

For the first time ever, labourers were able to purchase cheap goods for themselves. The first factories focused on mass production of cheap goods for the poor. Shoes, for example, were produced for the proletariat – the rich bought made-to-measure shoes. This was different from France, where the government’s mercantilist product standards, designed to uphold quality, ensured that nothing was produced for the poor at all. In France, mercantilism continued to be state policy for much longer than in England. This is the reason why industrialisation took fifty more years to arrive on France’s shores.


- This is a typical “I did not know that” moment from J. P. Floru‘s excellent new book Heavens on Earth:How To Create Mass Prosperity , from the chapter about the British industrial revolution.


Well, I myself did not know it. If you did know this particular thing about shoes, you will still probably find a hundred other such titbits in this book that you did not know. In an equal-but-opposite way, this made me think of how we can now buy excellent yet vastly-cheaper-than-before spectacles on the internet, that being a case of a made-to-measure product becoming available to all at a mass production price.


Besides the world-changing success story that was British industrialisation, Floru writes about: the USA and West Germany just after WW2, Hong Kong, China, Chile, New Zealand and Singapore. The miseries of despotism are not glossed over, but the inevitable failure of statist economic policies and the almost automatic benefits of free market policies, provided only that you can make them stick, are made unmistakably clear.


I hope, Real Soon Now, to be supplying a longer posting here about this fine book, along the lines of the five star reactions to it here. Short version: it is a fine book.






via Samizdata http://www.samizdata.net/2013/03/samizdata-quote-of-the-day-270/

“Last time I remember over-reaching legislation being similarly rushed, we ended up with the Terrorism Act Section 44 which started out as preventing terrorism and ended up as random stop-and-search powers being exercised by the Met on any motorist they felt like bothering.”


- Alec Muffett, in a rather depressing summary of his thoughts about the meeting that he, other members of the Open Rights Group, and other civil liberties groups had with Hacked Off last night. Read the whole thing. (This is a subsequent post to the one that was linked to earlier).






via Samizdata http://www.samizdata.net/2013/03/samizdata-quote-of-the-day-265/

Sheldon Cooper is a typical very smart guy who thinks that because he is an expert in one field, he therefore knows everything about all other subjects as well. I suspect that he would be quite a fan of a centrally planned society, provided he was the one doing the planning.


- George Mulberry






via Samizdata http://www.samizdata.net/2013/03/samizdata-quote-of-the-day-262/

One many significant dividing lines between, on the one hand, enthusiasts for free economies and free societies, and on the other hand those who favour a large role for the state in directing and energising society, concerns where you think art and science come from.


Those looking for an excuse to expand the role of the state tend to assume that art and science come from the thoughts and actions of an educated and powerful elite, and then flow downwards, bestowing their blessings upon the worlds of technology and entertainment, and upon the world generally. Science gives rise to new technology. Art likewise leads the way in new forms of entertainment, communication, and so on.


If the above model of how science and art work was completely wrong, it would not be so widely believed in. There is some truth to it. Science does often give rise to new technology, especially nowadays. Some artists are indeed pioneers in more than art. But how do science and art arise in the first place?


While channel surfing a while back, I heard Dr Sheldon Cooper, the presiding monster of the hit US sitcom The Big Bang Theory , describe engineering as the “dull younger brother” (or some such dismissive phrase) of physics. The BBT gang were trying to improve their fighting robot, and in the absence of the one true engineer in their group (Howard Wolowitz), Sheldon tries to seize the initiative. “Watch and learn” says Sheldon. Sheldon’s attitude copncerning the relationship between science and technology is the dominant one these days, because it explains why the government must pay for science on the scale that it now does. Either governments funds science, or science will stop. Luckily governments do now fund science, so science proceeds, and technology trundles along in its wake. Hence modern industrial civilisation.


Howard Wolowitz is the only one of The Big Bang Theory gang of four who does not have a “Dr” at the front of his name. But he is the one who goes into space. He builds space toilets. He was the one who actually built the fighting robot. Dr Sheldon Cooper, though very clever about physics, is wrong about technology, and it was good to see a bunch of comedy sitcom writers acknowledging this. After “Watch and learn”, Sheldon Cooper’s next words, greeted by much studio audience mirth, are “Does anyone know how to open this toolbox?”


Perhaps the writings of Terence Kealey are starting to have some effect upon the popular culture. A scientist himself, Kealey is now one of the more prominent writers who has confronted this Art Causes Technology equation by pointing out that the truth is almost entirely the other way around. Technology, Kealey asserts, is the foundation upon which the best science tends to be built, technology itself quite often having been developed in defiance of rather than in accordance with existing scientific doctrines, with science only later catching up. Only when some particular sort of technology becomes very widespread, and a supply of people is needed who understand the principles upon which it is based, does the relevant new scientific “discipline” get established, paid for by those commanding the technology that the techno-workers now need to understand. Primitive steam engines preceded the correct scientific understanding of gases under pressure. Germ theory began as an exercise in chasing germs and saving lives, not in the brains of already established scientists applying their grade A scientific education to a real world problem only after they had obtained that education. Historically, technology had been jogging along quite impressively for many centuries before science, of the sort we would recognise as such now, got into its stride. And even today’s university-based scientist-entrepreneurs are often really load-fire-take-aim, suck-it-and-see technologist/go-getters, who treat university science faculties more like mad-inventor garden sheds than regular academic venues. They prove their science to be science by making it work, by making it do something useful.


None of which requires government funding. Just venture capitalists, crowdfunders, generous aunts and uncles, or just hobbyists with time and money to spare paying their own way. One of Kealey’s central points is that an economy’s total science spending is not dependant at all on how much the mere government puts into the pot. As political money gets ever tighter in the years to come, Kealey’s argument, despite him being, academically speaking, in a minority of approximately one, will be sucked into greater prominence, by politicians looking for an excuse to cut funding for science, and for everything else.


And what of art? Let me again quote from that book about medieval English history, Nicholas Vincent’s A Brief History of Britain 1066-1485) , that I have recently been reading, because he happens to describe where art comes from rather well, in this passage on page 362, about a notable maker of church bells:



The London bell-maker, Richard of Wimbish … was so well regarded that at least seven of his bells still survive to be rung today in parish churches from Devon to Kent and from Oxfordshire to Suffolk. We know this because, like some glass-painters and a few of the more exceptional masons and skilled artisans, Wimbish ‘signed’ his work. From the ranks of anonymous labour, the artist had been born.



Almost anything, if done really well and if done repeatedly, can be art. Having an eye, and in this case also an ear, for aesthetic considerations goes hand in hand with profit, providing whatever it is that is being contrived so artistically has a foundation in continuing usefulness. The useful arts mutate into Art.


Vincent’s next paragraph is about big guns, then typically made by the same kind of people and with the same metallurgical skills, as those who made big bells. The Chinese, Vincent notes, may have invented gunpowder, but gunpowder is no good for anything besides fireworks if you can’t make guns that can accommodate and direct the resulting explosions without themselves flying into lethal fragments. I dare say that the development of those early artillery pieces was accompanied by pompous proclamations from the official “scientists” of the day that the laws of science, or God, or whoever, ordained that such devices could never work, and certainly never in the way that people of the Richard Wimbish (and Howard Wolowitz) sort were actually getting them to work. And then, when the Wimbish-Wolowitz tendency had proved that particular sort of science wrong, science was amended.


Notice how, in attempting to change my subject from science to art, I found myself veering back to science again. This is because both science and art spring from the same soil. They are different ways of thinking about things, different ways of making and appreciating stuff. Does it do the job? How and why does it do the job? What’s going on here? And: Is it a thing of beauty? What’s so beautiful about it? Would having one in my house or my garden or my church impress my friends or my subjects? Questions like that are asked of the same things, again and again down the ages.


Bringing the story towards our own time, when people now speak about “art” they typically mean painting pictures or making sculptures. But such activities did not begin as “art”, in the sense we now mean by the word, when speaking of art galleries and such. They began as attempts to impress, and later to record likenesses.


So it was that the invention of photography had a profound effect on “art”. Picture making having been going on for so long that it had become thoroughly accepted as art (as well as just something that was useful to advertise and to record likenesses), what were all the “artists” to do with themselves when the economic foundations of their trade were snatched out from under them? Many painters became photographers, keeping their clientele while changing their techniques. But what of the rest?


Recently there was a comment thread here about modern art, about how ghastly it is, how badly it bodes for Western Civilisation, etc. etc. But I believe that to be as pessimistic about the future of the West as some of those pessimistic commenters were, merely because of a lot of stupid abstract paintings, is to fall into the trap of regarding artists in the way they like to regard themselves, as a vanguard of civilisation (an “avant guard”), rather than as mostly a rearguard. You simply cannot understand Modern Art without appreciating that it takes place in a technological space first developed by, and then abandoned by, the industry of making pictorial likenesses. Abstract art is, in many ways, a rationalisation of the fact that likenesses are now no longer demanded, on the scale of former times, from “artists”. It is primitive picture making, done in a part of town that used to be very grand but is now either stuck in genteel poverty, or in the other kind of poverty: a slum.


Old school art was a business as well as an “art”. “Modern Art” became like a bunch of children who are now mostly ignored, except when they misbehave. So, to keep on getting attention, guess what they have kept on doing. It’s spomething of a digression, but I can’t resist noting here that the resulting publicity machine that tells the world of all this foolishness is itself heavily dependant upon … photography. Could Modern Art be even as big as it is (and hence a source of such angst to those who are anxious about how stupid a lot of it is), without photographs to spread the news of what the Modern Artists have been getting up to?


As all that Modern Art misbehaviour becomes ever more tedious, degenerating from Outrage to mere irritation, I and many others have for some time now been detecting a distinct trend in Modern Art away from Outrage and towards the Fun of the Fair. (That’s part of what Mick Hartley was saying about Roy Lichtenstein, in the earlier piece the comments on which were linked to above, which linked to this.) Many Arts enterprises are now mutating from Art Temples to “visitor attractions”, or at least they are trying to. It is no coincidence that this trend away from the pomposities of High Art towards entertainment, visitor attraction, bums on seats, bodies in galleries, is associated with a time when political money for the arts is getting tighter, and you either get some paying customers or go out of business. Art, now getting somewhat less from the politicians, and maybe in the nearish future quite a lot less, has for some time now been switching back to trying to make itself useful, by at least being entertaining, and by such related means as attracting more visitors to nearby restaurants and shops, and more eyeballs to adverts.


The danger for the many “artists” who still depend upon public subsidy for their useless activities is that if art goes on reverting to being more useful and more entertaining, the question inevitably arises: Why does the government need to pay for any of this? Clearly art will survive no matter what, and indeed it will. In a world in which entrepreneurs and then contented viewers will happily pay for high class entertainment (along the lines of such things as The Big Bang Theory), why do you need arts subsidies, for second-rate, amateur entertainers who can’t cut it as real entertainers? No wonder many arts-ists are worried by this trend from Art towards mere fun.


This has been quite a long posting, and you might think that it ought to have been two separate postings, one about government funding for science (no need) and then another one about government funding for art (ditto). But I wanted to lump these two topics together, because in a very basic sense, I think that they are the same topic. Both science and art (especially good science and good art – and that really is another posting) spring from a vibrant, progressive, progressing, go-getting, acquisitive, inquisitive, life-affirming, life-enjoying world. Is a church bell science, or art? Both.


If the politicians really want to encourage art and science, let them stop fretting about these things by trying to micro-mange them, and focus instead upon a much smaller core curriculum, that really will make the world a better place by them doing much less to prevent the good life for everyone, and hence also much less to prevent the progress of art and science. If they want to get personally involved in such things as art and science, let it be at their own personal expense.






via Samizdata http://www.samizdata.net/2013/03/some-thoughts-about-where-science-and-art-come-from-and-about-why-governments-dont-need-to-pay-for-either-of-them/

I despair.


- Allister Heath






via Samizdata http://www.samizdata.net/2013/03/samizdata-quote-of-the-day-257/

Buried in among the comments on this SQOTD is a disagreement between Jaded Voluntaryist and Rob Fisher.


Jaded Voluntarist:



There are certain positions that it is unwise to try and debate rationally – specifically because they are not rationally held positions. … nothing you say is really likely to change the minds of such people.



Rob Fisher:



But have the debate anyway. Those who overhear it might then be prevented from joining the wrong cause.



I agree with Rob Fisher entirely. Jaded Voluntaryist says, and then repeats, that the people (“such people”) you argue with are beyond argument, which may be so. (Alternatively, they may just not want to argue with someone who keeps telling them they are being irrational.) But JV seems to me to ignore the point about those onlookers. Onlookers, particularly the silent ones, are what propaganda is all about.


Closely related to the point about arguing with those whom it is impossible to argue with, so to speak, is the virtue of repetition. Keep on having the arguments.


Repetition is actually humility. Repetition is recognising that what you say won’t reach the whole world, the very first time you say it. If others won’t repeat it for you (which is actually what reaching the world consists of), then if you think it deserves to reach at least a bit more of the the world than it did first time around, you will have to repeat it yourself.


In the comments on this excellent posting at Counting Cats (a posting which restates some ancient truths about incentives but puts them in an academic rather than an “economic” context – highly recommended), you will observe commenters, many of their names being familiar from here, repeating to one another (as is entirely appropriate) many of the above truths about the need to keep on arguing. Are they talking only to themselves, echoing in their own echo chamber? No. One hitherto silent reader joins in, to say:



Keep it up guys, well done. … Every little anecdote helps.



Indeed.


I and many others said all this many times before, which is because it deserves to be said again and again.






via Samizdata http://www.samizdata.net/2013/03/have-the-argument-anyway-and-keep-on-having-it/

Professor Sunstein is undoubtedly correct that “people make a lot of mistakes.” Most of us can look back over our own lives and see many mistakes, including some that were very damaging. What Cass Sunstein does not tell us is what sort of creatures, other than people, are going to override our mistaken decisions for us. That is the key flaw in the theory and agenda of the left. Implicit in the wide range of efforts on the left to get government to take over more of our decisions for us is the assumption that there is some superior class of people who are either wiser or nobler than the rest of us.


- Thomas Sowell, quoted earlier today by David Thompson






via Samizdata http://www.samizdata.net/2013/03/samizdata-quote-of-the-day-256/

I like two recent postings by Mick Hartley, both in connection with art exhibitions in London, Lichtenstein at the Tate, and Duchamp (and others) at the Barbican.


Of Lichstenstein, Hartley says, among much else that is worth reading in full:



So yes, it’s easy to see him as glib, compared to the great names of New York Abstract Expressionism, like, say Mark Rothko, whose brown and purple splodges of colour were seemingly dragged agonisingly from deep within his soul; who couldn’t bear for his Seagram works to be displayed in a restaurant; who finally killed himself in his studio. Compared to Rothko, yes, Lichtenstein does seem a bit of a light-weight.


Also, there’s the fact that Lichtenstein’s easy to get. Just about anyone can see what it’s about. And critics hate that. What they want is to be given the opportunity to demonstrate why they’re art critics and you’re just some dumb schmuck who doesn’t know much about art but knows what he likes. If they started lecturing us about how Lichtenstein is commenting on mass reproduction and popular culture, we’d say, well of course he is.


That’s one mark against the man. Another may be that, despite all the attempts to portray his art as somehow critical of the popular culture of the times, and by extension of the rampant greedy capitalism of post-war America etc. etc. together with the sexual stereotypes of those ditsy romantic blondes and macho soldiers from the comic books, it’s fairly clear that Lichtenstein, far from mounting a biting critique of US imperialism, was in fact celebrating rather than condemning the sheer vibrancy and energy of the visual world he lived in – of New York in the Sixties. Of course he maintained an ironic distance, but he was no revolutionary, no radical subversive – except in the sense that he saw popular culture as a suitable subject for high art.



The Lichtenstein exhibition is a popular hit, but, Hartley reports, the Duchamp etc. show is provoking no such mass enthusiasm.


In 1917, Duchamp grabbed a urinal, signed it, and stuck it in an exhibition, to the delight of art critics ever since. Says Hartley, at the end of his Duchamp posting:



The logical conclusion to this line of thinking would be that if anything can be art if its maker wishes it to be art, then anything or everything can be art – and we don’t need artists any more. Curiously this is an argument that artists themselves seem reluctant to make.


So yes, the urinal was funny; yes, it was subversive; yes, it was probably the kind of kick-up-the-arse that the art establishment needed at the time. But can’t we move on? It’s not as if the art establishment now isn’t in need of a kick up the arse. But it’s not going to come from repeating the same old tricks of 100 years ago. The urinal lovers now are the art establishment.



Indeed.






via Samizdata http://www.samizdata.net/2013/03/mick-hartley-on-roy-lichtenstein-and-marcel-duchamp/

Many months ago I recorded a BBC documentary called “Health before the NHS”. Not having much of a stomach for statist propaganda I had been putting off watching it. The other night I finally got round to doing so.


Now, you will be shocked (shocked I tell you!) to hear, that the conclusion they reached was that the creation of the NHS was a very wonderful thing indeed. The problem was that if you actually looked at the evidence they presented – without making allowances for cherry picking – you’d have to reach precisely the opposite conclusion. This is what the BBC thought counted as evidence:



  1. There have always been state hospitals.

  2. They have always been awful. Dirty, miserable, useless.

  3. Before 1900 most operations were carried out at home

  4. Almost all developments in medicine in the first half of the 20th Century were pioneered by voluntary hospitals (ie private hospitals).

  5. It was voluntary hospitals that pioneered the idea that you might have an operation in a hospital and not at home.

  6. Voluntary hospitals were able to survive on charity until taxation in the 1920s got so high that this became increasingly difficult.


Something they did not cover was the introduction of a state general practitioner service in 1912. This was the real beginning of the NHS. At the time, I assume, no one in government thought voluntary hospitals particularly important, so they were ignored and, of course, they went on to transform healthcare. It really is amazing what a little freedom can do. It was only in 1948 that the government realised its “mistake” and nationalised the voluntary hospitals as well.


The BBC even opined that the NHS “integrated” and managed to give the impression that it brought forth infinite resources for healthcare. You have to admire their chutzpah.


Hospital subscribers in 1916.

Hospital subscribers in 1916. For further info see here.







via Samizdata http://www.samizdata.net/2013/02/bbc-attempts-to-prove-that-the-nhs-was-really-good-epicfail/