I have a new piece up today at Slate about why some many engineers end up as terrorists.

The most astonishing thing I learned while doing this research was just how wrong my perception of terrorists and suicide bombers was. The idea that high level leaders in complex terrorist organizations are better educated doesn’t give me pause. But according to this article by Alan Kruger, a former Princeton economist now with the treasury, even suicide bombers in places like Gaza are likely to be wealthier and better educated than their peers.

Kruger says that crime makes a poor analogy for terrorism. A better comparison would be to voting. It’s the folks who are invested in ideas, politics and the future of the nation who bother to get out and vote, or who make the ultimate statement with their lives.

I’ve got a new piece up today on the Daily Beast looking at the relationship between social media and suicide.

There is a prevailing sense among people of a certain age that kids who are sitting alone in front of their computers all the time are failing to build social skills.

But the experts in public health I talked with saw it differently. “Kids today are experts in their friends moods,” was how Christopher Le put it. Le helped write the suicide protocols for Myspace and Facebook and now runs his own company, Emotion Technology, that works on public health in the new media sphere.

I think Le’s point is important. There is definitely a sensation on services like Facebook and Twitter of constant contact. This is no substitute for deep friendships. But when a person puts out a cry for help, friends, onlookers, even strangers now respond.

There are worse thing in life than death. Have you ever spent an evening with an insurance salesman? – Woody Allen

A new piece out today – my first for Slate and Co. It’s about the life settlement industry, the strange business of buying other people’s insurance, paying their premiums and collecting the money from their policy when they die. The industry began as a last resort for AIDS patients in the 1990s, but as one life settlement agent told, “The new medicines totally fucked the profit margins on that market.”  Now the industry deals mostly in senior citizens. Lives, like home mortgages, are something many people possess, so when Wall Street finds a way to monetize them, the churn is quick to follow.

You can check out the piece here at Slate’s business site - The Big Money

There is a great creation myth about the industry that didn’t make it into the piece.

Supposedly the practice has its roots in an arcane legal decision from 1911. One Mr. Bouchard was in need of a life saving surgery, but didn’t have the money to afford it. He had already fallen behind on his life insurance premiums, and in desperation, he offered the policy to the local surgeon, Dr. Grigsby, as payment for the treatment.

Dr. Grigsby agreed, but despite performing a “successful” surgery,  Bouchard died less than a year later. When Dr. Grigsby went to the insurance company to claim payment the Bouchard estate refused, and the resulting court battle made its way to the Supreme Court.

Oliver Wendell Holmes delivered the opinion: “So far as reasonable safety permits, it is desirable to give to life policies the ordinary characteristics of property. To deny the right to sell except to persons having such an interest is to diminish appreciably the value of the contract in the owner’s hands.”

And thus, out of a glaring moral hazard, the life settlement industry, with its grim mix of free market capitalism and human mortality, was born.

Last week I was out in Malibu with MGMT. Went surfing every day at Little Dume, a beautiful, private cove about 15 minutes from the house. I didn’t have a board of my own, so every day I would “borrow” one from Kenny G, who has a house right on the beach. Thanks Kenny! Some day I’ll ride a wave for as long as you can hold a note.

Kenny hanging tenor.

Laird Hamilton was at the beach. I’ve never seen a person who so closely resembled a demigod. At one point, Andrew and I were splashing around trying to catch a wave. Laird was riding one in and another surfer was next to him on the same wave. The other guy wasn’t wearing his leash, and when he fell off, his board shot out from under his feet. Laird caught the other dude’s board with one hand and surfed in holding the runaway board over his head like a toothpick. Righteous.

Laird Hamilton

This week I went up to the Maine cabin of Peter Rittmaster: champion boat racer, engineer and international man of action. I learned a lot of man skills – building a teepee, docking a boat, starting a fire and shooting a gun.The house is jam packed with unbelievable curios – from African fetish art to antique French flare guns.

Check out some great images of the house – Maine Delay -

I’ve got a big article coming out this weekend, so be sure to check back here for a post on the most macabre investment scheme cooked up by Wall Street yet.

I’ve decided to give my website a new look. I have so much to say, only the blog format will do.

Hopefully with WordPress as my guide I won’t be scared to post whenever something interesting pops up.

Current listening – Arthur Russell.

Before I want to Wesleyan, my idea of good music was limited to Weird Al, Lou Bega and Sublime. Pretty frightening to remember the days when my favorite mix tape was Bega’s  Mambo #5 on repeat for sides A and B.

Russell made its way to me through a friend, who got it from Ben Goldwasser of MGMT fame. I lived with Goldwasser my senior year in college and he introduced me to a few amazing artists: Ahmad Jamal, Animal Collective, Eno etc.

My favorite Russell track has to be ‘ That’s Us/Wild Combination‘ from 2004′s Calling out of Context. The song’s ethereal production, bumping, minimalistic disco beats and silky blue-eyed vocals sound like an avante-garde version of Hall and Oates.

As soon as I figure out how to post MP3s, I’ll hit you up.

Russell was a mid-western cello player who showed up on NY’s downtown scene in the 70s. As his career developed his friends from home thought he was losing his mind and his peers from NY thought he was realizing his genius. When he died of AIDS in 1992, both sides felt vindicated.

I’ll be at Wes over memorial day and will report back by blog when I fully sober up.

Bp