As Internet users become more dependent on the Internet to store information, are people remember less? If you know your computer will save information, why store it in your own personal memory, your brain? Experts are wondering if the Internet is changing what we remember and how.

       In a recent study, Professor Betsy Sparrow conducted some experiments. She and her research team wanted to know the Internet is changing memory. In the first experiment, they gave people 40 unimportant facts to type into a computer. The first group of people understood thatthe computer would save the information. The second group understood that the computer would not save it. Later, the second group remembered the information better. People in the first group knew they could find the information again, so they did not try to remember it.

       In another experiment, the researchers gave people facts to remember, and told them where to find the information on the Internet. The information was in a specific computer folder (文件夹). Surprisingly, people later remember the folder location (位置) better than the facts. When people use the Internet, they do not remember the information. Rather, they remember how to find it. This is called "transactive memory (交互记忆)".

       According to Sparrow, we are not becoming people with poor memories as a result of the Internet. Instead, computer users are developing stronger transactive memories; that is, people are learning how to organize huge quantities of information so that they are able to access it at a later date. This doesn't mean we are becoming either more or less intelligent, but there is no doubt that the way we use memory is changing.

    “Don't you have any toys you want to share?” I asked my son during our church's Christmas toy drive. “What about all those things in your closet you haven't used in years?”

    "I don't have anything,” he said. “We're so poor.”

    We're only “poor” because we refuse to buy him the phone he wants for Christmas, which would also require a monthly texting charge.

    “You're not so poor you have nothing to give,” I found myself saying to him, a phrase my mother often used on me.

    At work the next day, one of my students said, “I didn't spell your name right,” as she handed me a Christmas gift—a box of chocolates. No wonder she hadn't spelled it right—I had only worked at the center for a couple of months, and my name is not easy to pronounce, even in English, which is this woman's second language.

    I hadn't expected a gift—I worked at an adult education center, where we dealt with people who struggle economically. When I was hired, my boss told me she tries to keep snacks around the center and cooks “stone soup” once a week, where whoever can bring something in does, because “You will hear growling bellies here. They give their food to the children before they themselves eat.”

    And yet these people, so grateful for a second chance at getting an education, unable to sometimes even afford the gas money to come in, manage to do something for us nearly every week. Some bring in food; others do chores around the center. They help and encourage one another, and us. They give what they are able to give.

"Mum, what does it mean when someone tells you that they have a skeleton(骨骼) in the closet?" Jessica asked. "A skeleton in the closet?" her mother paused thoughtfully. "Well, it's something that you would rather not have anyone else know about. For example, if in the past, someone in Dad's family had been arrested for stealing a horse, it would be ‘a skeleton in his family's closet'. He really wouldn't want any neighbor to know about it."

"Why pick on my family?" Jessica's father said with anger. "Your family history isn't so good. You know. Wasn't your great-great-grandfather a prisoner who was sent to Australia for his crimes?" "Yes, but people these days say that you are not a real Australian unless your ancestors arrived as prisoners." "Gosh, sorry I asked, I think I understand now," Jessica cut in before things grew worse.

    After dinner, the house was very quiet. Jessica's parents were still quite angry with each other. Her mother was ironing clothes and every now and then she glared at her husband, who hid behind his newspaper pretending to read. When she finished, she gathered the freshly pressed clothes in her arms and walked to Jessica's closet. Just as she opened the door and reached in to hang a skirt, a bony arm stuck out from the dark depths and a bundle of white bones fell to the floor. Jessica's mother sank into a faint(晕倒), waking only when Jessica put a cold, wet cloth on her forehead. She looked up to see the worried faces of her husband and daughter.

"What happened？Where am I?" she asked. "You just destroyed the school's skeleton, Mum," explained Jessica. "I brought it home to help me with my health project, I meant to tell you, but it seemed that as soon as I mentioned skeletons and closets, it caused a problem between you and Dad." Jessica looked in amazement as her parents began to laugh madly. "They're both crazy," she thought.

    When her classmates were having a good time, Molly sat at the picnic table alone. She remained awkward around her classmates. She seemed unsure of what to do or say, yet I could see her eyes longing for acceptance. Many students had already decided that her friendship would not be worth the energy required to overcome the awkwardness. Others teased her. Most ignored her except for one.

    Brianna, the class clown, was making the other students laugh, as usual. “Brianna, do you see Molly down there? Would you mind walking down there and inviting her to come up here with the rest of us?”

    Brianna sighed. I could tell she didn't want to sacrifice precious minutes of her own recess (休息) to do what I was asking of her, but I also knew her heart. She often thought of others before herself— a rare character for anyone, much less a kid.

    Knowing this choice was hard for her, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a D-buck, our class currency. Though bribery (行贿) was not the ideal way to handle this situation, I needed her cooperation.

    “Here, I'll pay you for your time.”

    She offered an insincere smile, grasped the green paper, and headed down the hill.

    As the rest of the children screamed and laughed, my eyes locked on Brianna as she neared the picnic table. Molly could be difficult, and I wouldn't have been surprised if she sent Brianna back alone, refusing her invitation. When she encouraged herself to a standing position, I sighed with relief.

    A minute later, I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Here, Mrs. D.” She handed me the D-buck.

    “Why?” I asked.

    “I shouldn't keep this,” Her eyes fell to her feet, guilt radiating from her quiet voice. “I don't want Molly to think I only went to get her so I could earn a D-buck. She's my friend.”

    A moment later, they were all laughing again, and who should I see among them, laughing for the first time that week? Molly.

    Mayor Day called me that morning, his voice full of an urgency I'd never heard before. "These Chinese big people are coming to our town and I need you to prepare something really special for them. I'm relying on you, Adrian. The whole town is. This could be just the thing to put us over the top."

    "Okay, I'm on it," I said. I'm a caterer (酒席承办人), and for years I've done all the mayor's events for Thomasville, Alabama, our little town of 4,099. He likes everything I make, but I knew exactly what he wanted this time, banana pudding, his favorite.

    It's my mama's recipe. It was her desserts that she was known for. Mama cooked her banana pudding on the stove. Hers was thick and cream-colored, not dark yellow like the other ladies made. I remember practicing in the kitchen when I was a young girl. Mama showed me how to make banana pudding properly. "Good job, Adrian," Mama would say. I was so proud when I finally got mine just right, the way she did.

    For months Mayor Day had tried his best to persuade some Chinese businessmen who ran a copper company to build their new plant in Thomasville, but our little town didn't have the land they needed. "We are leaning toward Houston or Lamar," the company representative told Mayor Day. "There is nothing personal, just business."

    "Wait! What about Wilcox County?" the mayor asked. Wilcox, just east of us, was one of the poorest counties in the entire United States and had got plenty of land. There hadn't been any kind of plant built there since the 1970s.

    "But that's not your county," the company representative said. "Why are you lobbying (游说) for them?"

    "Because if you build in Wilcox County their economy will grow and so will Thomasville's. Besides, there's something to be said for loving your neighbor, isn't there?"

    The representative agreed to visit Wilcox County before the final decision was made. All the top leaders would come and have lunch in Thomasville, lunch that I cooked. And for dessert, the dish the mayor hoped would sweeten the deal. Banana pudding with 300 jobs riding on it, I knew it had to be perfect, like Mama's.

    The luncheon was held at the Thomasville Civic Center. Next to each plate I'd placed a little cup of pudding. I looked on anxiously as the Chinese businessmen eyed the dessert. Were they curious or sickening? One of the men pointed at his cup and said something to the translator. I couldn't hear his answer but the businessman still looked puzzled. He took a spoon, inserted it into the pudding, then put barely a taste to his lips. For a moment there was no reaction. Then he smiled, a grin that went from ear to ear. The rest of the businessmen started eating their pudding, one bite after another. In seconds all the cups were empty.

    One of the businessmen looked toward me and said something to the translator, who waved me over to the table. "Excuse me," he said. "Is there more? More …" he searched for the word, "… pie?" I brought out all the banana pudding. Even last cup was finished. By the time the men put down their dessert spoons they'd reached an agreement. They needed to know more about Wilcox County. There would be another meeting, another lunch.

    "And we will have again the banana pie?" one of the leaders asked.

    Mayor Day didn't miss a beat. "Absolutely," he said. "Adrian's lunches always come with banana pie."

    And a few months later, when it was announced that the plant would be built in Wilcox County instead of Houston, everyone joked that the decision had come down to one thing. Mama's been away for a few years now, but I like to think she's up in heaven, looking down on that new copper plant going up in Wilcox County, and saying, "Good job, Adrian."

The urgency and importance of Covid-19 over (he past year have driven almost everything else from most leaders5 minds. But since the vaccine is kicking in, Britain's government is once again beginning to think about the things that will matter later. Next week, it is expected to publish a 'plan for growth" to boost productivity, with innovation at its centre.

The world may be on the point of a technological boom with life sciences, at which Britain excels. Innovation is crucial to productivity, but on this front Britain's performance has lagged behind its competitors' in recent years. Its low spending on Research and Development (R&D) argues for a boost. Those who attributed the financial failure in the 1970s to the insufficiency of research funds may regard this as a threat to economic growth. Promoting innovation can quickly (um into an exercise in picking winners - or, as is more often the case, losers.

A second danger is that policy agendas get mixed up. The government has promised to "level up" poorer areas of the country, so deprived towns arc campaigning for more money for their universities. But trying to boost innovation by sending money to weak institutions is likely to make our leading universities lose their advantages, thus producing average ideas that could have been remarkable. Britain's research-funding system has always been elitist(精英主义的). It should stay that way.

The government's first move in boosting innovation was the announcement of a plan for an Advanced Research and Invention Agency (ARIA). ARlA's purpose is to fund high-risk, high-reward research. But money is not all that mailers. The successful translation of life science research into treatments during the pandemic suggests some inexpensive measures that can also make a difference.

One is to speed up governmental processes. The rapidity with which Britain's medical regulator moved during the pandemic is one reason why the vaccine rollout is racing through the population. Urgency is not unique lo pandemics. Getting things done quickly can make an investment worthwhile and determine where a businessman chooses as a base.

Another useful measure the government should use is its unique ability to overcome barriers. At the beginning of the pandemic. Covid-19 researchers were unable to gain access to different strands of health service data. The government eased restrictions on existing data and allowed researchers to ask people who had tested positive tor Covid-19 to join trials. Both were crucial to the effort.

A last principle is the value of connections between the government and the private sector. Kate Bingham, a venture capitalist who led the vaccine-purchase effort, understood how to deal with drug companies. Many of the civil servants working with her had commercial experience. The governments closeness to business during the pandemic has been criticized. But without it, the vaccine effort would not have succeeded.

Innovation took human beings from caves to computers. Good education, a welcoming immigration policy and a friendly business environment will do most to tend it. But a new sensible principles can help keep the flame burning.