"If I'm tweeting about a hamburger it's because I'm counting the number of quarks in the atoms of the hamburger."

Fantastic interview by Charlie Rose on 60 Minutes last Sunday. Tyson is perhaps the most passionate champion of science living among us today. If you want to see the full interview, I recommend the 60 Minutes iPad app, which is how I usually watch 60 Minutes content by topic.

I will be buying an Apple Watch, and I'm really optimistic about its health implications. I've totally bought into the idea of little computers that can passively track my movement.

I've been wearing a Fitbit One every day for almost exactly one year. I've also had an iPhone 6, complete with its M8 motion coprocessor, since November 2014. I guess because I had the Fitbit first, I just kept using it for step counting. Even though the iPhone 6 has been persistently counting much of the same information in the background, I never paid much attention to it because the iOS 8 Health app is just not that great for visualizing data. However, I recently came across two apps that do a great job of showing walking data: Fitport and Pedometer++. I recommend both.

But as the Apple Watch ship date nears, I'm really looking forward to seeing the Watch's health app UI and its other features in action. As much as I've loved using my Fitbit, I know that if an Apple Watch and iPhone 6 can do just as good of a job at counting steps and floors, I'll probably end up shelving the Fitbit.

So. I figured now was as good a time as any to really try to understand how my Fitbit One and iPhone 6 count steps and floors differently, if at all.

Overview of comparisons

I know from casual checking that both the Fitbit and iPhone 6 show extremely similar results when compared over small time frames. For example, both show precisely the same floor counts and very similar step counts for typical daily movement within my home.

But when comparing over a longer time frame, like the 90-day comparison you'll read about below, the results vary much more. To go even deeper, I analyzed the results of the Fitbit and iPhone 6 during two different walks in (very hilly) Greenville, South Carolina, where I live.

I also compared my Fitbit and iPhone 6 in a more "industrial" setting and even looked at how they worked when they weren't supposed to be counting: elevators and car rides.

The point of this exercise wasn't to be super scientific but rather to get a feel for how the numbers vary for my own personal use.

But First: How the Fitbit and iPhone 6 work

Both the Fitbit One and iPhone 6 have an accelerometer and barometer that they use to measure steps taken and floors climbed. Beyond knowing the general "hardware" used by Fitbit and the iPhone 6, however, they're really a black box on the software side. All we know is that they each use some sort of algorithm to identify motion patterns indicative of steps. One specific that we do know about Fitbit: one floor equates to a 10-foot rise in elevation. Apple does not publish anything specific about the elevation required for a floor.

Results over a 90-day period

I think it's worth comparing the Fitbit and iPhone 6 over a longer time scale. Fitport lets me look at my iPhone 6's HealthKit data over several different time frames. The longest time frame other than "all data" is 90 days, so I decided that would be long enough for the sake of comparing to Fitbit.

I just want to say that from a fitness ego perspective, it's hard to pick a worse segment of time than the 90 days leading up to this March blog post because I really suck at walking in the winter time and rarely even sniff the usual 10,000 daily step goal. But anyway, here's how the iPhone 6 and Fitbit compare from December 23, 2014 through March 23, 2015:

• Fitbit: 509,482 steps and 1009 floors
• iPhone 6: 506,909 steps and 735 floors

I would never expect an equal step count over such a long period because there are too many variables. For example, there are plenty of Saturday mornings when my iPhone 6 isn't in my pocket while I'm rolling around on the floor with my kids, but my Fitbit One is usually clipped on. And in the year that I've owned a Fitbit, there have been several multi-day stretches when the Fitbit battery died without me knowing it—meaning that it wasn't recording any data at all.

All that considered, the step counts seem remarkably similar.

The floor count difference is much more interesting. At first, I was really stumped considering how both devices always seem to register floors climbed in my home the same when observed over small time periods.

Then it occurred to me that I live in a fairly hilly part of the country. Greenville, SC is in the foothills of the Smokey Mountains, and it's hard to walk more than 20 feet in any direction without going up or down.

Given that I regularly walk through the trails, parks, and sidewalks that weave in and around downtown Greenville, I thought it made sense to pay closer attention to what the Fitbit and iPhone 6 were counting there.

Two walks into Greenville

I have several walking routes that I take into the downtown area on a regular basis. I picked two different routes to "study" how my Fitbit and iPhone 6 counted steps and floors across a variety of elevations and walking surfaces.

1. Walk 1: A 1-mile walk covering some fairly steep elevation changes
2. Walk 2: A 1.5-mile walk with more subtle elevation changes

I used MapMyWalk to measure the elevation profile and exact distance of each route. MapMyWalk uses my iPhone 6's GPS system to measure distance, and it uses USGS data to determine elevation. I thought these would both be interesting "checks" on the Fitbit and iPhone 6's step and floor algorithms.

Walk 1: Steep Terrain (1 mile long)

The first walk is probably my favorite of all. It's a truly spectacular walk, which starts at a relatively high elevation on the outskirts of downtown, then descends rapidly into the Reedy River basin in Falls Park, weaving through little gardens, water falls, and bridges. The lowest elevation occurs roughly midway through the walk, near the base of Reedy Falls. It then rises up sharply past the falls and into the heart of downtown along Main Street.

I've made this walk countless times, but until I actually graphed the elevation profile, I never realized how U-shaped it was.

Walk 1 Elevation Profile

As you can see, the iPhone 6 counted 70 more steps than my Fitbit and 4 fewer floors:

Walk 1: Steps Counted

The step count difference is somewhat surprising. iPhone 6 came in roughly 4% higher. 4% of one mile is a little over 200 feet. To me, this seems like a really big difference. Based on other data, I'm fairly sure my personal "steps per mile" metric is roughly 1755 steps per mile. I'm 6'4" and have a fairly long stride, so I'm well under the standard 2000 steps per mile that you often see quoted.

It's likely, however, that I take a different number of steps when walking up or down steep terrain. So it's hard to know if the iPhone 6 is truly "wrong" here. It's also possible that steeper terrain changes my natural step motion, introducing opportunity for measurement error.

Walk 1: Floors Counted

I was paying close attention, and neither the Fitbit or iPhone 6 recorded any floors at all on the first half, which is what I would expect since it was entirely a descent. The entire 4-floor difference occurred in the second half.

Roughly midway along the second half, I took a fairly tall staircase to get up to street level. I don't know the precise height of the staircase, but I would estimate that it's much closer to two standard stair flights than one. Indeed, this was the one and only point along the one-mile walk where my iPhone 6 counted any floors at all (i.e. the 2 floors that it counted total).

It seems that the Fitbit is much more sensitive to elevation changes than the iPhone 6. So which one is "right?"

I guess it depends on your semantic persuasion. In a strict sense, the iPhone 6 was more accurate in counting literal floors (the only true staircase). In a more "feel good" sense, however, the Fitbit's floor metric seems like a better measure of effort spent going "up." In terms of heart rate, ascending 81 feet over a roughly half-mile stretch is quite different than walking the same distance on flat terrain. It's nice to get some credit for that.

It's entirely possible that the iPhone 6's floor counting algorithm is tuned to look for more of a stepping motion, as you would make going up real steps, while the Fitbit is satisfied as long as its barometer indicates upward movement while you're making any kind of step motion.

Walk 2: Less Steep Terrain (1.45 miles)

The second walk is longer than the first, but isn't nearly as scenic. It does, however, offer an interesting elevation contrast with the first walk in that it follows a more gradual decline along a road that leads to downtown Greenville.

Walk 2 Elevation Profile

Walk 2: Steps Counted

I suppose it's not surprising that two different pedometers would yield closer results over flatter terrain, but I think it's pretty impressive that they are so close. Both devices also show a pace of about 1755 steps per mile, which as I mentioned earlier, is consistent with the typical number of steps I cover per mile while walking casually.

Walk 2: Floors Counted

Coincidentally, Walk 2 also featured exactly 2 real flights of stairs, which the iPhone 6 counted precisely. Once again, the iPhone 6 counted only true floors, while the Fitbit's floor count is more indicative of walking up hills in general.

I have to say, I'm a bit surprised that the Fitbit counted so many more floors given my perception of the elevation changes that I encountered, but I think this just further underscores the Fitbit's sensitivity to elevation changes while your feet are moving.

Counting real floors

Since my two walks show just how differently the Fitbit and iPhone 6 count floors over varied walking surfaces, I thought it would be interesting to see how they performed in a more controlled, "industrial" setting. So I decided to walk up to the sixth floor of a parking deck in downtown.

According to at least one source, the standard height of a parking deck story is 10 feet. The parking deck I chose, to me, looks like most any parking deck, but it's worth noting the first flight was slightly shorter (maybe 25% shorter) than the others because the first level of the deck is actually a little below street level.

At the 6th floor, the Fitbit was dead-on at 6 floors, while the iPhone 6 recorded only 5. It's quite possible that the shorter first floor caused the iPhone 6 to fall just a little short, but that's impossible to know. Unfortunately this parking deck only had 6 floors, so I couldn't go a little higher to test that theory.

It would be interesting, if tiring, to test this in a really tall high-rise to see just how much, if any, the two devices diverge in such a continuous, controlled setting. If you do this, let me know how it goes.

But as I noted earlier, both the Fitbit and iPhone 6 consistently measure floors climbed in my home with equal and exact precision.

Effect of non-walking motion

First World humans have many ways of moving up, down, and sideways that don't require moving feet. Obviously, just being able to detect small changes in barometric pressure isn't enough to detect steps. Otherwise, we could really game step counts by taking elevators and escalators.

Both the Fitbit and iPhone 6 performed equally well (zero activity) in an elevator in my testing. In other words, both devices are really smart about the motion pattern that defines a human step going up stairs.

Driving in a car, however, is a tougher test than an elevator because of all the little bumps and undulations in a typical car ride. I was curious what effect, if any, driving had on the Fitbit and iPhone 6.

I tested this by looking at my Fitbit and iPhone 6's step counts before and after driving across town. It was a roughly 15-minute drive that covered everything from residential roads to a 6-lane interstate.

The Fitbit correctly recorded zero steps, but the iPhone 6 logged 18. This surprised me a lot.

First, I was impressed that the Fitbit was good enough to know all the little ups and downs were not the result of taking steps.

Second, it's funny that the iPhone 6 got beat considering it has the potential to gather so much more contextual information. Compared to the Fitbit, the iPhone 6 is a super computer. My iPhone 6 is totally aware of my current speed, which it could use as a check on the step count. For example, if my body is moving at 65 miles per hour across the earth's surface along a coordinate path that matches a known interstate route, I'm probably not walking.

Conclusions

As with any arbitrary measurement system, it's more meaningful to look at trends than fret over individual data points. Fitbit and iPhone 6 are both terrific at measuring steps, and both inform you about your movement over time. If you walk from A to B, both will credit you steps for that, even if it's a slightly different number of steps.

When it comes to measuring floors, the Fitbit is clearly more sensitive to elevation changes than the iPhone 6. However, the iPhone 6 is a networked, location-aware computer. If elevation really matters, it's probably better to use something like MapMyWalk to more accurately measure vertical distances anyway. A "floor" is just an arbitrary unit of height after all. It really only makes sense for people who mostly walk indoors.

Rather than get hung up on data accuracy, I think it makes sense to focus on the main goal: move more. I'm absolutely fascinated with the fact that small computers can constantly measure my motion and give me incentive to move more by constantly informing me about my movement patterns. I fully expect the Apple Watch and its future descendants to take this to an entirely new level.

I'm no anthropologist, but I believe the version of the human body we inherited evolved to move around a lot—certainly way more than we move in modern environments. If the first generation of computers made us sit down, hopefully the next generation will put us back on our feet.

* * *

3/28/2015 Update: Elliptical Test

I decided to see how the Fitbit and iPhone 6 differed on a NordicTrac elliptical. I was on the elliptical for 20 minutes straight, covering a (supposed) distance and elevation of 1.7 miles and 895 feet, respectively. There were a variety of resistances and inclines.

As I expected, neither device counted any floors since there was no actual change in elevation. Interesting that the Fitbit counted so many more steps, though.

From Agile, the maker of 1Password:

With the conversation about online security and banking so fresh in everyone’s minds, I thought now would be a great time to send a message out to banks and financial institutions everywhere to encourage them to to take users’ security more seriously. I’m writing this not only as a member of the 1Password team who deals with security issues on a daily basis, but also as a concerned customer who just wants simple and secure access to her data.

The TD Canada Trust tweet that precipitated this is just incredible.

I think most educated people, on some level, realize that the world is not nearly as bad as the version reported by modern media. What's probably far less understood is why. A recent study explains bad news bias from a behavioral finance perspective:

Bad news. . . provides information on how to avoid a negative event or loss to one's well-being. Reading bad news helps consumers avoid making bad choices.

"Food scares are a good illustration as they are widely covered by the media," McCluskey said. To protect their health, "people choose to avoid the suspected food -- such as beef during the Mad Cow scare, or spinach with the E.coli outbreaks."

Over time, McCluskey said the model clearly showed individuals gain a greater advantage from reading bad news than good news. These consumers, either consciously or subconsciously, then continue to choose newspapers with more negative reporting. In response, news outlets take advantage of that risk aversion to maximize their profits.

Bad news bias existed long before the Internet, but I think the Internet makes it easier than ever to exploit human psychological weaknesses, which were actually strengths eons before the pseudo-Information Age. I think the current trajectory of news consumption suggests that the Internet is adapting to us faster than we are adapting to it. In 2015, we are ancient survivalists poorly adapted to this very new and strange land.

David and Katie asked me to join them on Mac Power Users to talk about my actuarial workflows. I probably didn't do much to demystify the work of an actuary, but I had fun anyway. More importantly to society, we talked about which Apple Watch we're buying.

Not sure how I missed this Alfred tip from Gabe in 2014:

I can select files in the Finder and double tap ⌘ to load them into Alfred, which is ready to act on them instantly.

I had no idea double tapping the Command key was even a keyboard shortcut option. Done.

If David Sparks were an app, he would probably be called Workflow. But I know for a fact he isn't an app. I co-wrote a book with him and even had dinner with him in person once. He's a real person. A real, nice person, that is.

At this point, it would be impossible to quantify all of the positive effects David's had on the life of anyone who's touched a piece of software he advocates—even people who have never heard of him.

So fortunately for the creators of the iOS app Workflow, David's not an app, but rather an app-loving human who made an amazing video Field Guide about all the amazing things Workflow can do.

If you're at all Workflow-curious, watch a free video sample of The Workflow Video Field Guide, read more about it at David's site, then buy it.

Buy it to learn how to use Workflow. Buy it to enjoy an exceptionally well-produced video. Buy it to support a guy who's probably already given you more than you can pay back.

I use Path Finder all day. I wouldn't even attempt to list all the reasons in a single blog post, but one little feature that I immediately appreciated when I started using Path Finder a few years ago was the way it sorted sub-folders above files in any given directory. This is definitely more of a Windows take on the visual file system, unlike OS X's Finder, which to my knowledge has always given folders and files equal preference in sorting (at least without hacking .plist files or installing add-ons).

   [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="909.0"]<img src="/img/img.png" alt="Example of how OS X Finder treats folders equally with files when sorting, while Path Finder places all sub-folders in a given folder up top. This particular folder has 159 objects. In the Finder view, the first "Published Copies" folder is the 145th item, which obviously requires a lot of scrolling to locate."/> Example of how OS X Finder treats folders equally with files when sorting, while Path Finder places all sub-folders in a given folder up top. This particular folder has 159 objects. In the Finder view, the first "Published Copies" folder is the 145th item, which obviously requires a lot of scrolling to locate.[/caption] 

I just like folders up top because I mainly work out of the list view, and I think it's much more efficient to navigate through visual folder hierarchies when I don't have to scroll down to find sub-folders sprinkled among regular files.

I just recently realized that Path Finder can give sorting priority to other types of file system "objects." By default, Path Finder's settings give preference to package and app files, as well. This was actually causing some friction that I guess was mild enough for me to tolerate for a really long time without digging for a solution.

Most Mac users probably don't realize that a growing number of files that appear to be "files" are actually packages of files. Two common examples on my Mac: .key (Keynote files) and .screenflow (ScreenFlow project files).

The ScreenFlow package sorting was creating the most friction because I usually want to see a ScreenFlow project's exported .mp4 file sitting next to its ScreenFlow project of the same name for folders sorted alphabetically. More importantly, I like to see the most recent .mp4 files at the very top of my primary working ScreenFlow folder when sorting by Date Modified in Path Finder. If package files have priority over regular files and you sort by Date Modified, you'll see the package files grouped at the top. You'll have to scroll down to find where the files begin, with the most recent file appearing first.

Fortunately, the fix is easy. Just tell Path Finder not to give any preference to package files when sorting.

  <img src="/img/path-finder-browser-preferences-pe.png" alt=""/>

This makes a huge difference in my working ScreenFlow folder and lets me quickly grab the most recent .mp4 files that I've exported simply by sorting by Date Modified.

   [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="939.0"]<img src="/img/img.png" alt="Comparing the same folder in Path Finder—with and without giving priority to package files. Since all of the .mp4 files on the right were created after the ScreenFlow projects from which they came, the .mp4 files appropriately appear at the top."/> Comparing the same folder in Path Finder—with and without giving priority to package files. Since all of the .mp4 files on the right were created after the ScreenFlow projects from which they came, the .mp4 files appropriately appear at the top.[/caption]

This morning I was reading an article on a local news site about weather conditions in my area. A couple of paragraphs in, this sentence poked me in the eye:

Snowfall is expected to end about lunchtime.

Perhaps for other reasons—reasons well beyond the scope of this little post—it touched a nerve, but it got me thinking how much I really hate passive voice in any kind of article or report that gives predictions, forecasts, or recommendations.

Without going all English 101 there are really two problems with passive voice from a practical standpoint:

1. It's far more taxing on the reader cognitively
2. It implies a lack of confidence

Rewriting the prediction in an active voice solves both problems:

We expect snowfall to end about lunchtime.

The cognitive problem

The cognitive problem isn't immediately obvious in this case because it's such a short sentence shown in isolation, but if you read thousands of pages of technical papers over the course of a year like I do, you know what it's like to have your head caught in the vise of a passive-voice-infected paper.

I've never seen a study that compares reading times between passively and actively written papers, but I would love to see one if anyone knows of one. Send it to me, please. Based on my (non-scientific) experience, it takes roughly 3–5 times longer to process technical literature riddled with passive voice.

The confidence problem

To me, someone who writes "snowfall is expected to end about lunchtime" just doesn't sound all warm and fuzzy that what they're saying is true.

Passive voice is the unconfident, if subconscious, mind's trick of deflecting responsibility from itself into abstract nothingness. I mean, who expects snowfall to end about lunchtime? The writer? The local news station meteorologist? Dark Sky? Nostradamus?

As a reader I have no idea, and that's kind of the point. There is no "we," "he," or "she," in "snowfall is expected to end about lunchtime." No one is at fault when snowfall ends well before or well after lunchtime.

Snowfall itself cannot expect itself to end about lunchtime, so if I'm being really cynical, I can only conclude that no one expects snowfall to end about lunchtime.

Snowfall is pretty innocuous, but there are plenty of other passively written forecasts in the world that are not. Maybe "inflation is expected to increase" or "it is suspected that vaccines are linked to autism." Many of these will translate to "bullshit is assumed."

You should always question anyone who makes recommendations without assuming responsibility or citing someone else.

Use passive voice as a tool for getting better

It's totally fine to write a rough draft in passive voice. The trick is to use it as a self-confidence barometer. If you catch yourself using passive voice when making recommendations or reporting results, ask yourself:

• Do I really believe what I'm writing?
• Do I really know who said what I'm writing? If yes, why am I not using their name?
• Should I publish this at all?
• Can I say this in simpler language?

And then. . . do the right thing, which is rarely the easy thing. You'll know what I'm talking about when you're at this point.

I recently finished watching all thirteen episodes of Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey in Netflix. This is of course the follow-up to Carl Sagan's famous 1980 series Cosmos. Neil deGrasse Tyson narrates the 2014 series with a passionate sincerity that makes it clear that with every word, he's talking about his favorite things in the whole universe.

The writing, visuals, and Tyson's style of delivery make Cosmos almost impossibly accessible for anyone old enough to question their world. I highly recommend this series, especially for school-aged kids—but really for anyone.

Even though I never saw Sagan's original series, I read Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time when I was a teenager. I think it was one of the most important books I read as a kid because it sparked curiosities that remain with me to this day. Tyson has every bit of Sagan and Hawking's ability to talk about very complicated subjects at an almost fifth-grade level of simplicity.

But what I like about Tyson the most is that beyond being a brilliant astrophysicist and speaker, he is a champion of science—almost on a spiritual level.

I think works like Cosmos are some of the most important in our time. Despite existing in the most technologically advanced stage of human civilization, science remains threatened by powerful factions fueled by faith-based fear, politics, and greed. Humanity has experienced periods of intellectualism before—and fallen from them. Perhaps the most important lesson we can take from ancient Greece is that knowledge should not be the privilege of the elite, whose numbers will forever be too few to protect knowledge from those all too eager to give ignorant masses a reason to fear the truth.

Reverting to prior habits isn't necessarily a failure if you look at all new things as experiments rather than unconditional commitments. Reversion can be very rational, especially when it amputates the sunk costs of failed experiments.

Perhaps the reason procrastination is such a prominent, time-tested feature of the human mind is that the current planning self is usually a poor spokesperson for one's future self.

Procrastination is your current actualized self passive aggressively getting back at your unrealistic past self. It's usually better if you can just punch your past self in the throat and move on.

Last year, Slate released a podcast called Working. The host, David Plotz, interviewed people will all kinds of jobs just to find out what they do all day.

When I came across this podcast, I figured I would listen to part of one episode, then move on. Instead, I listened to all of them—almost hanging on every word. I just have this fascination with what people do with their time and how people define "work."

As fascinating as it was to hear the different aspects of people's jobs—from a porn star to a hospice nurse—it was far more enlightening to hear just how similar skilled people are. Even though they apply their skills in really different contexts, highly professional people approach their work with a fundamental and universal sense of caring. Well, maybe not the waiter.

I hope there's a sequel.

Update: There will be.

Bloomberg:

RadioShack Corp. is preparing to shut down the almost-century-old retail chain in a bankruptcy deal that would sell about half its store leases to Sprint Corp. and close the rest, according to people with knowledge of the discussions.

Amazing RadioShack lasted as long as it did. For me, RadioShack will always be an icon of America's 20th century consumer electronic history—a history I feel fortunate to have caught a piece of.

When I was about ten years old, give or take, in the late 1980s, I bought a handheld CB radio from RadioShack with some allowance money I'd saved. A few other pals in my neighborhood also had CBs. One of my friends managed to rig up a truck CB in his room. He wired it to a car battery and ran a ridiculously high antenna out of his bedroom window that he somehow convinced his parents to let stand.

Our radios were only good for about a 1–2 mile radius, but that was plenty of range for communication during "wars," talking with random truckers passing through, and late-night conversations when we were supposed to be asleep.

Those CBs weren't just our "phones." They were our Internet.

via DF

It's difficult to think of a better example of cognitive inertia than the milk and bread rush:

This mass accumulation of dairy and dough has become an American snowstorm tradition. The only problem: Milk and bread are pretty bad survival foods. That milk will die fast if your refrigerator loses power, and bread can only offer so much nutrition during its short expiration date.

That which does not kill us makes us do that again.

Fascinating article by David Rothenberg and imagery by Mike Deal on visualizing whale songs as sheet music. Their video (2:40 min) of whale songs superimposed on nightingales is just as impressive.

I'm no evolutionary biologist, but it seems likely to me that every urge that we, as humans, have to transmit and receive information stems from really ancient wiring. Living things of all kinds were vibrating the earth's atmosphere long before we harnessed radio waves.

It also makes sense to me that evolution would favor elegantly transmitted information. It's probably the reason we "enjoy" music in the first place. Elegance and beauty in nature, like great music, are the products of relentless practice—the kind of practice whales and birds have had for longer than we can imagine.

In some ways, whales and birds may be even more advanced than we are. After all, we only recently dispatched the dial-up modem.

Maybe the evolutionary apex of organic communication is indistinguishable from a song. Maybe music approaches the most fundamental antithesis of universal chaos: the harmonic ordering of waves and particles.