Eiffel Over

Tag: BalancingFeedback

  • The tight feedback loops of the clown

    In street theatre, the clown lives for the audience. I’m not talking here about the stereotype of the kids’ entertainment performer, but of the much older sort of clown performance. The kind of clown who appears on stage with nothing more than a funny outfit, a sense of curiosity and maybe a trick or two up their sleeve.  In this sort of performance, the whole purpose of the clown is to find something that will make their audience laugh.

    So if they do something, and the audience laughs, that’s good feedback. They do it some more. If it is a funny gesture, they refine it. When they get more laughs, they amplify the movement and the laughter increases. If that amplification of the movement didn’t correspond to an increase in volume of laughter, they bring it back down again and try a different variation. 

    In improvised clown performance, there are strong reinforcing and balancing feedback loops at play. When the audience laughs more, the clown does it more. When the audience laughs less, the clown does it less.

    The clown, with no script, few props, and lightly held plans, has stripped back all the barriers between them and the audience. This stripped-back approach creates an intense feedback loop which keeps the clown on purpose: of making the audience laugh.

  • Stone circles on the beach

    Hundreds of years ago, the inhabitants of the Île de Ré, just off France’s Atlantic coast, developed an ingenious way to catch fish. At low tide, they built large stone circles, say 20 metres or more in diameter, and formed by a rock wall about 50cm high. At high tide these stone circles are completely submerged. But as the tide falls, water remains trapped in them, and so do the fish swimming in that water. At low tide the water eventually drains out of the walls, leaving the fish lying on the beach, for the local fishers to just pick up.

    These stone circles, or ‘écluses’ in French, were very effective in providing a local food supply. So much so that during the Napoleonic Wars, recruiting officers for the army tried to destroy the walls in an attempt to starve the local population and force them into joining the army. Later, the owners of commercial fishing fleets sought to have them shut down as they proved a risk to their own market domination.

    Through a regenerative lens, in this example we see:

    • A local population connected to a local source of supply. 
    • A low-tech method for harvest that the community itself can build and adapt.
    • The resilience that local supply can provide (and therefore why the army and larger commercial operations sought to remove it).
    • A scale of operation that is necessarily limited – they can only harvest fish that swim over the beach; there’s literally plenty more fish in the sea. This is in contrast to the super trawlers that can take far more than their fair share.

    Community, ecology, supply and resilience. These are the sorts of stacked, multiple benefits that we are seeking to create through regenerative design.

    Today, groups of volunteers are protecting and rebuilding the walls. Perhaps for posterity. And, or, perhaps they see a time in the future when harvesting in this way may return stacked, multiple benefits to their community and ecosystem.