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The Adventures of an Undercover Underwear Buyer

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by Kelsey Timmerman, author of Where Am I Wearing?

In my global quest to answer the question "Where Am I Wearing?" I picked my favorite items out of my wardrobe and traced them back to where they were assembled. I went to Honduras for my favorite T-shirt, Cambodia for my all-American blue jeans, and China for my flip-flops.

In Bangladesh, I tracked down the factory that made my Jingle These Christmas boxers. Here are a few glimpses from my experience, including one case where I almost lost it.

1. It can be hard to keep it together

"So, I hear you are interested in women's panties."

Salehin magically whips out a pair of sea-foam green granny panties and splashes them down across the desk between us. They're see-through. I've just taken a swig from the skinny can of Coca-Cola that was given to me when I arrived at the office. I fight hard not to spit it all over Salehin and his granny panties.

jingle-these.jpg"No... I'm interested in boxers," I pull my boxers out of my bag, "like these." I B.S. my way through a discussion about my underwear: how they were printed, what their thread count is. The sad thing is that I don't know squat about any of this and still Salehin salivates at the thought of doing business with an American buyer.

I experience a mix of emotions: nervousness-- that I'll be caught in the fib; exhiliaration-- because he's actually buying the fib; and guilt-- again, because he's actually buying the fib.
"We can make those," Salehin says. "We can make anything."

2. The factories aren't as bad as you think

Asad leads us past a high table with neat stacks of cloth. The factory is clean, exits are marked, and fans maintain a nice breeze. The conditions seem fine. They are much better than I had expected, and I'm relieved.

Today they are making T-shirts, but I'm assured, they can produce almost anything, including underwear. There are eight production lines, and each consists of 40 people-- none of whom seem to be children or "malnourished Bangladeshis whose growth has been stunted." There is no chatter, just thimping needles and quick hands. I wonder if their hands move that fast when their boss and some foreigner aren't looking over their shoulder.

As with Asad's lazy eye, I try to pretend the workers aren't there. I'm a garment buyer. I'm not interested in workers. I'm interested in the products they produce.

3. Kids don't make your clothes (but they do work)

In 1994, the Bangladesh Garment Manufacturers and Exporters Association, under pressure of the boycott and the damaged image of the Made in Bangladesh label, required the factories under their power to fire all children under the age of 14. The widespread use of child labor in the Bangladeshi apparel industry ended. But it's of little consolation because heart wrenching levels of child labor continue. According to the 2002/2003 National Child Labor Survey, 93% of working children work in the informal sector in Bangladesh. While there are a small number of kids making our clothese there, there are 4.9 million children between the ages of 5 and 14 holding other jobs down.

Monday's Entry: 9 Things You Should Know About the People and Places That Make Our Clothes

Go out and buy Kelsey's fascinating new book today at (Seriously, it's great!) And if you want to see what Kelsey's been up to today, check out his website

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iStock // Ekaterina Minaeva
Man Buys Two Metric Tons of LEGO Bricks; Sorts Them Via Machine Learning
May 21, 2017
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iStock // Ekaterina Minaeva

Jacques Mattheij made a small, but awesome, mistake. He went on eBay one evening and bid on a bunch of bulk LEGO brick auctions, then went to sleep. Upon waking, he discovered that he was the high bidder on many, and was now the proud owner of two tons of LEGO bricks. (This is about 4400 pounds.) He wrote, "[L]esson 1: if you win almost all bids you are bidding too high."

Mattheij had noticed that bulk, unsorted bricks sell for something like €10/kilogram, whereas sets are roughly €40/kg and rare parts go for up to €100/kg. Much of the value of the bricks is in their sorting. If he could reduce the entropy of these bins of unsorted bricks, he could make a tidy profit. While many people do this work by hand, the problem is enormous—just the kind of challenge for a computer. Mattheij writes:

There are 38000+ shapes and there are 100+ possible shades of color (you can roughly tell how old someone is by asking them what lego colors they remember from their youth).

In the following months, Mattheij built a proof-of-concept sorting system using, of course, LEGO. He broke the problem down into a series of sub-problems (including "feeding LEGO reliably from a hopper is surprisingly hard," one of those facts of nature that will stymie even the best system design). After tinkering with the prototype at length, he expanded the system to a surprisingly complex system of conveyer belts (powered by a home treadmill), various pieces of cabinetry, and "copious quantities of crazy glue."

Here's a video showing the current system running at low speed:

The key part of the system was running the bricks past a camera paired with a computer running a neural net-based image classifier. That allows the computer (when sufficiently trained on brick images) to recognize bricks and thus categorize them by color, shape, or other parameters. Remember that as bricks pass by, they can be in any orientation, can be dirty, can even be stuck to other pieces. So having a flexible software system is key to recognizing—in a fraction of a second—what a given brick is, in order to sort it out. When a match is found, a jet of compressed air pops the piece off the conveyer belt and into a waiting bin.

After much experimentation, Mattheij rewrote the software (several times in fact) to accomplish a variety of basic tasks. At its core, the system takes images from a webcam and feeds them to a neural network to do the classification. Of course, the neural net needs to be "trained" by showing it lots of images, and telling it what those images represent. Mattheij's breakthrough was allowing the machine to effectively train itself, with guidance: Running pieces through allows the system to take its own photos, make a guess, and build on that guess. As long as Mattheij corrects the incorrect guesses, he ends up with a decent (and self-reinforcing) corpus of training data. As the machine continues running, it can rack up more training, allowing it to recognize a broad variety of pieces on the fly.

Here's another video, focusing on how the pieces move on conveyer belts (running at slow speed so puny humans can follow). You can also see the air jets in action:

In an email interview, Mattheij told Mental Floss that the system currently sorts LEGO bricks into more than 50 categories. It can also be run in a color-sorting mode to bin the parts across 12 color groups. (Thus at present you'd likely do a two-pass sort on the bricks: once for shape, then a separate pass for color.) He continues to refine the system, with a focus on making its recognition abilities faster. At some point down the line, he plans to make the software portion open source. You're on your own as far as building conveyer belts, bins, and so forth.

Check out Mattheij's writeup in two parts for more information. It starts with an overview of the story, followed up with a deep dive on the software. He's also tweeting about the project (among other things). And if you look around a bit, you'll find bulk LEGO brick auctions online—it's definitely a thing!

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Scientists Think They Know How Whales Got So Big
May 24, 2017
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It can be difficult to understand how enormous the blue whale—the largest animal to ever exist—really is. The mammal can measure up to 105 feet long, have a tongue that can weigh as much as an elephant, and have a massive, golf cart–sized heart powering a 200-ton frame. But while the blue whale might currently be the Andre the Giant of the sea, it wasn’t always so imposing.

For the majority of the 30 million years that baleen whales (the blue whale is one) have occupied the Earth, the mammals usually topped off at roughly 30 feet in length. It wasn’t until about 3 million years ago that the clade of whales experienced an evolutionary growth spurt, tripling in size. And scientists haven’t had any concrete idea why, Wired reports.

A study published in the journal Proceedings of the Royal Society B might help change that. Researchers examined fossil records and studied phylogenetic models (evolutionary relationships) among baleen whales, and found some evidence that climate change may have been the catalyst for turning the large animals into behemoths.

As the ice ages wore on and oceans were receiving nutrient-rich runoff, the whales encountered an increasing number of krill—the small, shrimp-like creatures that provided a food source—resulting from upwelling waters. The more they ate, the more they grew, and their bodies adapted over time. Their mouths grew larger and their fat stores increased, helping them to fuel longer migrations to additional food-enriched areas. Today blue whales eat up to four tons of krill every day.

If climate change set the ancestors of the blue whale on the path to its enormous size today, the study invites the question of what it might do to them in the future. Changes in ocean currents or temperature could alter the amount of available nutrients to whales, cutting off their food supply. With demand for whale oil in the 1900s having already dented their numbers, scientists are hoping that further shifts in their oceanic ecosystem won’t relegate them to history.

[h/t Wired]