• From a NY Times story forwarded by former neighbor Bob (“Traveling Light in a Time of Digital Thievery“):

“If a company has significant intellectual property that the Chinese and Russians are interested in, and you go over there with mobile devices, your devices will get penetrated,”

When Kenneth G. Lieberthal, a China expert at the Brookings Institution, travels to that country, . . .He leaves his cellphone and laptop at home and instead brings “loaner” devices, which he erases before he leaves the United States and wipes clean the minute he returns. In China, he disables Bluetooth and Wi-Fi, never lets his phone out of his sight and, in meetings, not only turns off his phone but also removes the battery, for fear his microphone could be turned on remotely. He connects to the Internet only through an encrypted, password-protected channel, and copies and pastes his password from a USB thumb drive. He never types in a password directly, because, he said, “the Chinese are very good at installing key-logging software on your laptop.” . . .

• From Digital Photography Review (“‘No Future in Photojournalism’ Interview: Dan Chung“):

Dan, you made your name as a stills photographer but you’re mainly shooting video now, what changed?

“Photojournalism as a profession has taken a bit of a nosedive in recent years. Although I’ve been fortunate enough to be in continuous employment, I’m not immune to the longer-term trend, which is pretty desperate if you’re talking about make a living. I took a strategic decision to get more into video and it’s been reasonably successful.”

• The Business Ethics Blog, A blog about Business Ethics by Chris MacDonald, Ph.D..

A blog about Business Ethics by Chris MacDonald, Ph.D.

From a recent post:

Two days ago, I asked — in the wake of the Costa Concordia disaster — whether the captain is duty-bound to “go down with his ship.” The question, I said, bears not just on the obligations of sea captains, but on individuals in positions of responsibility at organizations of all kinds. It also has implications for how organizations enculture individuals so that they see following through on promises as more than just a contractual obligation.

But today I’ll make explicit the analogy that is likely on the minds of most readers of this blog: never mind sea captains…what about CEOs? Does the CEO of a “sinking” company have a duty to “go down with the ship?”

• And, for lighter fare, a description of the hike up the cliffs behind our house in Kaaawa, with some dramatic photos.

• Later today, we’re off to a small reception for one of Meda’s former students, Erika Molyneux, whose art is featured in a show at the Spalding House Cafe.

Erika Molyneux studied graphic design, photography, and printmaking at Montana State University and the University of Hawai‘i–M?noa and has since worked in the arts in a range of capacities. She continues to create and exhibit her own work and serves as a director for the Honolulu Printmakers and the Gallery Iolani Advisory Boards and teacher of traditional and digital arts at Sacred Hearts Academy. Erika has received awards from The University of Hawai‘i–M?noa, Honolulu Printmakers, Digital Artists’ Society of Hawaii, and the Honolulu Museum of Art (formerly the Honolulu Academy of Arts).

In any case, it’s nice to discover other things out there in the yard, like this beautiful heleconia. Conditions must be just right over in that corner of the yard, because this plant is large, thick, and obviously very happy.

He was a quiet man, a fixture on the small campus in Walla Walla, Washington, who left an indelible impression on many over the years.

The Seattle Times profiled Ball back in 2001 and captured his impact.

EVERYONE WHO has been in the presence of George Ball for more than, say, five minutes has something warm and fuzzy to say about him — a story about how he comforted them when their grandmother died, or shoveled their sidewalk during a snowstorm, or arranged emergency dental care for a student from China. And though Dr. Ball has interacted with thousands of different people in his two score and one year at Whitman College, all their stories wind up sounding fairly similar: Dr. Ball reached out. He listened. He made me think clearer and feel better.

Read this profile. It’s wonderful. Then think about what education means. How Ball’s amazingly effective style would or wouldn’t be measured by standardized tests. He didn’t leave his mark in publications and academic accolades. His legacy is in the many lives he shared and shaped.

When Meda was invited to give the commencement speech at Whitman in May, we didn’t get around to building Dr. Ball into our tight schedule. It didn’t matter. He found us. That was the way he was.

We were in our room at the Marcus Whitman hotel the day after graduation when the phone rang. We looked at each other. Who could that be? It was Dr. Ball, calling from downstairs in the lobby. He had been there for Meda’s speech and wanted to connect. So he tracked down where they college had stashed us, then got on his bicycle and pedaled over to see us. And remember that we graduated from Whitman in 1969. That’s the way he was with thousands of students over the many years.

It was, we learned as we sat in the lobby talking, his 96th birthday. His father, he recounted, lived to be 101.

When we all had our say, he put on his jacket, climbed on his bike, and rode off into the chilly morning.

I managed to catch a few snippets of our conversation with my iPhone video, and I’ve posted them on YouTube. His spirit shines through. And, I think, will continue to do so.