Thoughts on Election Day, 2012

The day has finally arrived.  A day of reckoning for a president who has, at best, a mixed record.  A day of reckoning for a candidate who, at best, has provided a mixed argument for why he could do better.

One is going to prevail; I suspect it is going to be President Obama, though stranger things have happened.  As a mathematician, I tend to be swayed by data and numbers, and find Nate Silver's 538 Blog to be pretty convincing.

Four years ago, I voted for Barack Obama.  Mainly because I did not like the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, but also because he seemed to be a different sort of candidate.  One who said the right things - offering optimism that things would be better if he were elected, not fear that things would be worse if he weren't.

My very first "blog" post here was a reaction to the the election; I read through it today.  In summary, my thoughts came down to this:

I agree with Barack Obama that there should not be a Blue or a Red America. To that end, I also reject that there are ethnic "winners" (and therefore, by necessity, ethnic "losers"). It's up to him, and not talking heads with little to recommend them beyond good hair (e.g., Anderson Cooper) to decide that America, and not splinter groups, have won. 

And I guess that is part of the change I am hoping for.

In part, because Mr Obama has failed to deliver on this change, I have voted for his opponent this year.  However, it is not my goal or desire to tell people at this point how to vote.  By now, most have heard the arguments, and have made up their minds.

I only would make the following suggestion.

Whether your candidate wins or whether he loses, we simply have to remember that our political opponents are not our enemies.  In the end, we are all in this together.

I disagree with the Democrats, largely.  But I do not believe that they are evil.  They are just wrong.

They don't want to wreck the country.  Their vision to making it better is just different from mine.

This has been a very nasty campaign in which both candidates and, more to the point, their proxies have said and written terrible accusations about the other.  I guess that's the nature of winner-take-all-politics.

I reject the idea that Barack Obama is a secret communist who wants to destroy our capitalist system, subjugate us to sinister, supra-national powers, or hates success, however you want to define it.

I reject the idea that Mitt Romney is a heartless villain who wants to starve poor people, toss the elderly and weak into a lake, or hates women.

Your political opponents are largely your neighbours, your colleagues, and dare I say it, your friends.  And thus, when we wake up tomorrow and your "team" won or your "team" lost, let's try to remember that fact.

Reflections on Sandy

Let's Give Three Cheers....

Today, for the first time in nearly a week, the sun is shining here in central New Jersey.

"Sandy" is gone; the buzz of saws cutting felled trees surrounds.  Everywhere, water is receding, things are drying, and we're slowly returning to normal.

Our family was blessed - aside from a couple of decorative trees in our yard that succumbed, and the nuisance of power loss for a day or so - we came through relatively unscathed.  No one hurt.  No property destroyed.  Not a drop of water in the basement to be seen.

Others were not so fortunate.

It's of course an election year, so our country has spent the better part of a year arguing about one per cent, 47 per cent, big government, responsibility.  

Personally, I've been a big critic of the Democratic party model - high taxes; support of entrenched public unions; big government.  I remain firm that the model offered by the president and his party is the wrong one, fundamentally.

But I'm not, and never have been, in the camp that says that the "private sector" does everything better than the public one.  I like to consider myself a pragmatist, sceptical about the centralisation of power, but open to arguments and empirical evidence.

The hurricane that has destroyed large parts of my state I think illustrates pretty well that there is a legitimate role for our federal government, and that there are just some things that are too big, too complex, to be left to the states or the private sector.

Sometimes, "big government" may be the right answer.

I also think it's worth taking a second to acknowledge and say "thank you" for public and private sector workers who set aside their own interests and families to take care of the rest of us.  

All Monday evening, as the storm hammered our town, I could see out my window flashing red and blue lights - police officers and firemen (in our town, a volunteer fire department made of residents from various walks of life).  

These people all have families.  They all have homes.  They were out in harm's way, not at home with their loved ones to steady the home front; out there to help keep us safe.  Police, especially, take a lot of criticism, and seldom get the thanks they deserve for a difficult, necessary job.  When you're in real trouble, and you ring 9-11, you don't get Kim Kardashian or Kanye West or any other intellectual flat-liner to come.  

You get a man in a blue uniform whose function in life is to serve and protect - not to amuse.

Police are government workers.

Tuesday morning, crews were out working in the continuing wind and rain to restore power and other infrastructure.  They were in the elements, not at home fixing their own homes or pumping water out of their own basements.  They were not with their families to calm frightened children.

These folks work for the "evil" power companies who make our modern lives and comforts possible.

Today is the first of November, and my property taxes are due.  These are assuredly *not* low, and I would love to have more of our money remain in our bank and not in government coffers.  But we pay taxes for a reason. 

We will rebuild.  We will recover.  

This is because we look out for each other, sure.  We all stand together.  But it's also due to the dedication of people we largely don't think about most days, or worse, complain about on others.

Thanks, guys.  We'll leave the light on tonight for you.

The Land of Chocolate (and High Taxes)

Homer Would Probably Vote YES on Prop 30

The election is now just over a week away, and still not quite sure what the 6th of November will hold.  I suspect that President Obama will win, though given how poorly he has performed recently - and just how how shrill and desperate his supporters have become - I am less confident of that than I was a month ago.

But as the French say, plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose.  Put simply, some things apparently never change.

In my old home state of California, awash in a sea of red ink of volume only slightly less than the San Francisco Bay, apparently, Governor Jerry Brown has put on the ballot Proposition 30, which would place sur-taxes on "very high" incomes to help to balance the state's shaky books.

(As an aside, all the sturm und drang about Mitt Romney's infelicitous "binders full of women" remark I suspect should be placed against the Democrats' ledgers full of nothing.)

Governor Brown's proposal would, for example, raise taxes on people earning 500,000 per year from 9.3 to  12.3 per cent.  The Proposition is leading in the polls, and likely will pass, though support is sliding.

Mr Brown today offered in an interview that the rich have a moral obligation to pay more, citing Biblical scripture.  Setting aside Governor Brown's very shaky math - he defended the tax raise pointing out that a 3 per cent rise in tax is modest; in fact, a rise from 9.3 to 12.3 per cent is more than a 30 per cent increase - but what's a little fun with numbers among friends.

The larger issue is do the rich have a moral obligation to pay more in taxes?  And, more to the point, how much more?  We've all seen the data, and heard the notorious comments by Governor Romney about the 47%.  The richest 1 per cent pays about half of all income taxes.  I suspect that, in California, home to among the most progressive income tax regimes in the country, that figure is probably not far off.

I am not a fan of the flat tax for various reasons, and I generally accept the socialist argument that those with more should pay somewhat more.  But when do we ask the question, does the government have a moral obligation to spend its revenues wisely?  To be a better steward of its resources than it is?

Senator Tom Coburn (R-OK) recently released his book on government waste, and suffice it to say, I wonder how ethical it is for the government to take in tax money and spend it on sports arenas or the PGA Hall of Fame.  And do we really need to be promote watermelon consumption or to create robotic squirrels?  I've seen all of the "Terminator" movies, and am suspicious that that last effort is going to end well.

But good Old Governor Moonbeam - who once aspired to the priesthood - adheres to at least a segment of the faith.  Right to the bitter end, apparently.

Tune in Tomorrow, When We're Gonna Do *FRACTIONS*

Came across an interesting article yesterday in The Economist.  The authors were commenting on a recent study by economists at the University of Miami that discovered another reason why mathematics are important.

It turns out, the 'average' American's inability to grasp concepts around fractions and proportions, added to the lure of "more," yields poor choices, at least when it comes to the allocation of economic resources (i.e., our money).

The study of 600 shoppers asked for opinions on the best "bargain" when confronted with various options.

Overwhelmingly, when given the choice of the same amount of product for less vs. more product for the same price, the shoppers opted for more, even when the better bargain was the latter.

As an example, shoppers were given the choice of product A, either at a 33% discount, or 33% additional product at no additional cost.  The choice overwhelmingly was for "more stuff for free," with shoppers indicating that the two 'bargains' offer the same value.

Well, a quick look at the maths makes it clear that the better choice - economically speaking at least - is to opt for the discount.  Quickly think of a 10 ounce bottle of shampoo, for $1.  If you get the same shampoo at a 33% reduction, you will pay 67 cents for 10 ounces.  That's 6.7 cents per ounce.

On the other hand, if you opt for "more stuff," you get 13.3 ounces for one dollar, or 7.5 cents per ounce.  As an aside, for the two to be equivalent, the additional "free" product would have to be 50% more.

In another experiment, shoppers were asked to compare two scenarios, one where a product was discounted 40%, and another, where a product was discounted 25%, and then given a "super" additional discount of 20% on top.

Again, overwhelmingly, the shoppers thought that option B was superior.  The classic, grade eight algebra fallacy that 25% plus 20% must be 45%.

In this case, the two scenarios are equal.

Think of the same bottle of shampoo, offered at $1.  A single, 40 per cent discount takes the price to 60 cents.  Under the second scenario, the initial reduction takes the price to 75 cents, with an additional 20 per cent reduction taking the price to, once again, 60 cents.

We tend to 'fall' for spurious "buy one, get one free," or "additional discount taken at register" offers, and ignore what our high school maths teachers taught us about fractions and how to multiply and add them.

When in doubt, one can of course ignore the math test, and instead just rely on reading - at grocery stores, virtually all products listed will print the unit price on a small tag on the shelf.  When in doubt, just read.

....and It Falls In! But Wait!

I Got It!  No, You Take It!

The controversy and debate continue to rage.  A crucial moment and one of the contestants just stands there and lets the ball fall in.  And one side of the argument screams that those chosen to moderate the contest made the wrong call. Passions are inflamed.  The argument goes on and on about just what the proper role for judgment by the referees of the contest ought to be - when should they let the two sides just go, and when should they intervene?

Of course, I'm talking about the Friday National League "wild card" playoff game between Atlanta and St. Louis, a topic that is far more interesting than just how 'wrong' Clint Eastwood's now almost prescient observation about empty chairs was...

The situation for those not following professional baseball, is as follows.

The Atlanta Braves and St. Louis Cardinals faced off Friday evening in a winner-take-all contest in Atlanta.  The Braves, over the first handful of innings had kicked and thrown the ball around to the point that they trailed the Cardinals 6-3 late in the game.

Entering the bottom of the eighth inning, a little life.  A walk.  A fielder's choice, and a single placed runners at first and second with only one out.  The Braves had been pretty ineffective until then with runners on the bases, and that futility appeared to continue when shortstop Andrelton Simmons popped a lazy fly ball into shallow left field, perhaps 75 feet over the head of St. Louis SS Pete Kozma, but in front of left fielder Matt Holliday.

Now, this is a play that 99 out of 100 times, one or the other will "call for" the ball and make an easy catch.

It's that one of 100 - where, because of poor communication, or the noise of the stadium, where one or both of the players will simply stop, and the ball will fall, unmolested, to the turf for a gift single.  Which of course is exactly what happened, as Kozma, who at first signalled for the catch and then at the last second, peeled off.  Holliday had stopped running in, and the ball landed to the joy of the Atlanta fans.

The celebration was short-lived, as left field umpire Sam Holbrook called Simmons 'out,' despite the non-catch.

The reason for the call: Holbrook invoked the rule that is the subject of discussion in the first days of every little league practice in the US, and I suspect, many other countries: The Infield Fly Rule.

Without getting into too many details, the rule basically was put into place decades ago to prevent the defenders intentionally allowing an easy pop-up on the infield to fall, then quickly picking the ball up for an easy double play.  The situation requires:

1. There are runners on first or second, or first second, and third (thus setting up TWO force outs on the bases)
2. There are zero or one outs (thus setting the possibility of getting TWO or THREE outs on the play)
3. That the ball is one that one of the infielders can catch WITH ROUTINE effort (as judged by one of the umpiring crew)
4. That ultimately, the ball must land in FAIR territory.

There are other details, of course, but the point is, a fielder cannot gain advantage by intentionally not making a play through chicanery.

What is in dispute in all of the above is item three - just how "routine" the ball was (and it was, to be fair, an easy catch), and did the umpire make the right judgment call?

Much of the debate I've heard has focused on things such as the nullity of the call because a base umpire did not make it (irrelevant - there is nothing in the rules stipulating which umpire must make the call - and there are only outfield umpires in the playoffs and All-Star Game), to the fact that the left fielder called for the ball (which is a false argument, because the rule specifically says that an infielder need not make the call, and does, in fact, state that the rule is in effect even if an outfielder ultimately makes the catch), to the fact that Holbrook waited until the point that the ball was past its apogee and was near the ground (which strikes me as a reasonable point).

As I see it, the call is plainly the wrong one because of three factors.

First, looking at the intent of the rule - does anyone believe that Holliday and Kozma meant to let the ball fall?  Was there an attempt to gain a dubious advantage by allowing it to land without being caught?  I don't think so.

Second, was there a real expectation, or even a chance, that in not catching the ball, a double play was possible?  Not a chance.  At best, after the ball landed, the Cardinals might have been able to force Dan Uggla out at third.  In fact, they did not even succeed at that.

Third, and most important - as I see it, the empirical measure of whether a call is right or wrong is this: Suppose the call had gone the other way.  That the infield fly rule were not invoked.  Would the other team have argued the call so angrily?  Would they have argued it at all?

I suggest that, had the infield fly rule not been called, the St. Louis Cardinals would not even have complained about it, and indeed, their players and fans would have focused their anger on why two professional players failed to catch a routine popout in shallow left field.

All the other comments I'm hearing are just noise.  The infield fly rule is not complicated.  It's not difficult to understand.  One need not be a former major leaguer to grasp it.  It's a simple rule, and the problem here is entirely about whether a human being used the right situational judgment around whether to invoke it or not.

The bottom line is this: Pete Kozma should have just caught the ball.

And the Atlanta Braves should not have made three errors.

Make a Wish

Today, ESPN-dot-COM have an interesting thought exercise on their web site.  They asked a number of baseball players and celebrities a 'turn back the clock' question - if you could pick a single game in the entire history of Major League Baseball, and go back in time to see it, which game would you select?

If you could go back in time and see any baseball game, what game would you choose and why?

You can pick from any game from baseball history, any game at all. It can even be one you saw in person but would like to see again.

The one stipulation was to apply the Wrinkle in Time rule - that is to say, you cannot alter history in any way (other than that, perhaps, you were not alive or in attendance on that day) - the outcome, the play, the weather, the stale, over-priced hot dogs and warm beer would remain as they were.

According to their survey, the single most chosen game amongst players, celebrities, and their own staff was the 1947 Brooklyn Dodgers - Boston Braves game in which Jackie Robinson made his debut as the first black player in the big leagues.

My reaction to this is, "really?  No; REALLY?"

Of all the games ever played - the Game 6 of the 1975 World Series, the 1960 Pirates/Yankees Game 7, the May 1979 Cubs/Phillies 23-22 game, the 'Bloody Sock" performance of Kurt Schilling - the Jackie Robinson game would be the single game you would want to see?

Not to diminish the significance of the game, and at the risk of wandering into territory that is to say the least impolitic, I find this response to be an admixture of equal parts political correctness and dishonesty.

The importance of Jackie Robinson, both to the game of baseball as a historical talisman, should not be understated.  His breaking of the so-called "color barrier" was a pivotal moment in the fabric of our country, and that deserves some consideration.

But was the game itself really worth consideration beyond the list of memorable contests?  From the perspective of play, the answer has got to be no. I can think of dozens of games, easily, that offered more on-the-field drama or excitement.

Doubt it?  Quick - tell me who won the game, and what was the score?  Don't Google it before answering. (Answer to be provided at the end).  I am guessing that nine of ten people, to be conservative, cannot.

Perhaps it's due to the historical significance of the game?  But if that's the case, is it more significant than the first game?  The first American League game?  I would argue that the first professional game would be at least as significant as the Jackie Robinson game.

Maybe the interest implied is so that the person could claim that he was at the game when it happened.  OK.  But that seems the answer to a different question, don't you think?

Jackie Robinson was a great player, and his appearance was a significant milestone, but I think this sort of almost forced reverence makes more of him in history than he was in life.  And that in my opinion, diminishes rather than elevates his legacy.

(Answer: In Jackie Robinson's first game on 15th April 1947, the Dodgers beat the Braves 5-3, in front of just 12,623 fans in Ebbet's Field).

Irresistible Forces, Immovable Objects, and Our "Rights."

Read today an op-ed from the Sunday New York Times; investigative journalist Bill Lichtenstein published a piece entitled "A Terrifying Way to Discipline Children."  In the editorial, Lichtenstein notes the rise over recent times in the use of "isolation rooms" and restraints in public schools as a means to discipline otherwise seemingly uncontrollable children. Included in the piece is a personal comment about the experiences of his then-kindergarten-aged daughter "Rose," who apparently was subject to such punishments on several occasions.

IN my public school 40 years ago, teachers didn’t lay their hands on students for bad behavior. They sent them to the principal’s office. But in today’s often overcrowded and underfunded schools, where one in eight students receive help for special learning needs, the use of physical restraints and seclusion rooms has become a common way to maintain order. 

According to national Department of Education data, most of the nearly 40,000 students who were restrained or isolated in seclusion rooms during the 2009-10 school year had learning, behavioral, physical or developmental needs, even though students with those issues represented just 12 percent of the student population

It's an interesting, if not to say eye-opening read.  And needless to say, I do not support the abuse or torture of children.

But one reaction I did have is this: after 40 years of "mainstreaming" children with learning, mental, and behavioural problems, ostensibly because it is the right of all to be treated "just the same as everyone else," where does one draw the line when circumscribing the rights of one child versus the rights of another?

In reading Mr Lichtenstein's story, he reveals, among other things, that his daughter has "speech and language delays," and at times becomes "fidgety and restless when she is unsure of what is expected of her."  Furthermore, it is revealed that "Rose" on occasion throws "violent tantrums" and at school became fixated with a scene from the cartoon "Finding Nemo," where sharks repeatedly (and violently) attempt to attack the story's eponymous protagonist.

"The school provided no solution," Mr Lichtenstein offers, dryly.

I am the parent of a small child - one who is NOT prone to "violent tantrums," nor bouts of "fidgety or restless" behaviour.

Where do his rights (and the rights of the other students in the class) come into the equation here?  When a child is repeatedly disruptive, not to say violent, that has a consequence for the others in the room whose learning is, at the least, interrupted.  Each time the teacher has to stop and tell "Rose" or other students to be quiet, to return to their seats, not to throw a tantrum or hurt the other children, that infringes on the rights of every other student in the classroom, doesn't it?

I am not a proponent of group rights - at all.  As I see it, we do not have collective rights, but rather, individual rights.  Amongst those rights, for school children who are compelled by law to be in the classroom, is the opportunity to be educated by a professional.

I'm sympathetic to "Rose" Lichtenstein, and to a lesser degree, her father.  Really, I am.  But if we disavow "time out rooms" for repeated bad behaviour, whilst at the same time insisting that public school classrooms are appropriate for all children, how do we expect our teachers to teach effectively?

Does Time REALLY Always Fly?

Today is the 11th of September 2012; the numerical representation ("9-11") will immediately resonate with most of us in the USA as well as the Western world, and likely a large chunk of the rest as well.  Of course, it's the anniversary of a terrible day eleven years ago when several groups of men, using vessels of commerce , leisure, and transport, destroyed the World Trade Centre in Manhattan, a section of the Pentagon in Washington, several thousand lives.

It's become something of a grim tradition on this date - people posting "where I was" remembrances of that particular date when they heard/saw the news. I was living in San Jose, California; my day had just begun with the familiar voice of the bumper announcer on KNBR, broadcasting the top of the seven o'clock hour news teaser - "If you've ever been to New York and seen the World Trade Centre, it's gone...."  Unlike many here on the east coast, my day did not begin just like any other.

Maybe it's the distance that an entire continent made; perhaps it's that at that time, I had only seen the Twin Towers out the window of a plane landing at Kennedy Airport.  But as I read the comments of those who are now my neighbours here in New Jersey, just an hours' drive from NYC, I find it odd the feeling "it seems like only yesterday."

To me, it seems like a lifetime ago.

The distance between then and now is temporal and metaphorical.  EVERYTHING about my life is different.  I suspect the same is true for a lot of people.

Honestly; think about the way you felt when you went to sleep on the night of the 10th of September 2001.

The country felt more prosperous. There was no lost decade economically.  No stock market crash (two, in fact, if you count the Tech Bubble).  The fear of shadowy bad guys waiting to hit at us was constrained to Hollywood movies.  There was no Iranian bomb.  We wished for a continuation of the good times - "hope" was not tied to "change."

Worst of all, no decade of seemingly endless, hopeless wars.

Personally, there is practically nothing about my life that is the same today as it was then.  In the time, I've gotten married, changed jobs (three times).  My son was born, grew, and entered school.  I now live thousands of miles away.

It doesn't seem like only yesterday to me, and in a sense, I am glad for that.  I haven't forgotten - nobody should forget of course.  But as I see it, the best way we can celebrate and remember those who were killed that day is for us to live.

Reflections on 10 Years

If We Were Polydactyl, Would
11 Be the New 10?

Today marks the 10th anniversary for my wife and me (we were wed on the 8th of June 2002 in Los Altos, California; a beautiful, sunny Saturday).

As I am getting older, I get the feeling that time is accelerating.  It's a common feeling, from what I hear.  "Every year is getting shorter," as the Pink Floyd song goes.  A lot of water under the bridge - four different jobs, two industries, two states (we now live in Princeton, NJ, having joined the flood of middle class families haemorrhaging from California's borders).  One little boy.

I am thinking about the significance of numbers.  In every culture, of course, numbers carry certain sub-texts.  In the west, for example, seven is considered lucky (not sure why); 13 unlucky (depending on the source, reasons vary from the number of attendees at the Last Supper to the date that Pope Clement ordered the "disposition" of the Knights Templar).  In east Asian cultures, six, eight, and nine are considered auspicious (the words are homophones for "long lasting," and "wealth."), while four is considered very bad news (it sounds like the word for "death.")  In many hotels in China and Japan, there is no fourth floor.

10 carries a certain symbolic weight, as do 100, 1000, etc.  I believe that this is owing to the fact that we live in a base ten world (that is to say, mathematically, we count from zero to nine, and then move the next place, put a one, and start over).  This is almost surely an artefact of the reality that human beings have 10 fingers, save for certain polydactyls (people with extra fingers/toes).  If we had 11 fingers and not 10, then the "Spinal Tap" joke about 11 would be a lot less funny.

In statistical testing of hypotheses, something is declared to be "significant" if its p-value is less than 0.05 (the estimated probability of the event happening by chance being less than one in 20).  The standard was set by the father of statistical inference, Sir R. A. Fisher.  In a somewhat apocryphal story, Fisher commented that 0.05, as opposed to 0.04 or 0.06 or some other equally arbitrary number, was chosen because we have five fingers on each hand, and that seemed as reasonable as any other standard to him.

So, here's to 10 years great years, and hopefully many more.

Do I Feel a Draft?

One Tin Soldier Rides Away

The baseball amateur draft is approaching (next week).  While not the hyped-up spectacle that the circus of the NFL draft has become, it is a significant event in the baseball world.  Set up in the 1960s as a means of providing the lower-tiered teams with an avenue to succeed (Rick Monday, I believe, was the first player ever taken), the draft is the primary way that teams fill their pipeline with young talent.

Unless you're the New York Yankees.

I wrote a couple of comments here and here about the way that the Yankees - and to a lesser degree the Boston Red Sox - have become locked in a battle of high priced Hessians to fight for the American League pennant year in and year out.  This summer seems to be shaping up to be no different, despite a poor start by both.

Over at ESPN.com today, their baseball blogger David Schoenfeld has written a quite interesting piece about the all-time best "rosters" of players taken by each AL East franchise.  It's curious to look at the Yankees, and just how, to be kind, mediocre their takings have been.  Derek Jeter and Don Mattingly are obviously tremendous players, the former headed to the HoF on a first ballot.  Andy Pettite is a borderline case for the Hall, and Ron Guidry was an excellent pitcher until arm problems hurt him.

Beyond that, the Yanks have not been spectacular, and could reasonably be said to be the poorest performer in the division in this regard.  The writer points out that in the nearly 50 years of the draft, the Yankees have not drafter a single outfielder who has become an All Star for the Yankees.  Not one.

Between the lines, it seems obvious HOW the Yankees have built and maintained their dynasties, by signing veteran players or trading away - in many cases trades forced by economics on the small market teams - for established stars.

Schoenfeld writes the obvious question - what would become of the Yankees if other teams simply stopped trading with them?  I am not sure the answer, and the question itself is an exercise in rhetoric, since such an embargo will not happen.  Ever.  For one thing, the finances of the game force teams in many cases to trade their top talent (my team - the Toronto Blue Jays - three years ago were forced to deal the best pitcher they've ever had, Roy Halladay, for a grab bag of nuts and bolts), and reality dictates that if the Yankees are kept out of this market, that has an impact on the quality that teams can command.