In my field, we spend a lot of time studying environmental effects. For instance, a classic (but oversimplified pop-culture version) question is whether kids turn out the way they do because of their genes, or because of the way their parents raise them--because of their nature (biology) or nurture (environment).
Well, we here in Gubbins-land have a real live example of nonshared environmental influence. Consider two "siblings"...actually, consider two identical twins: Andy & Jess's cell phones. These shiny little devices rolled off the assembly line in identical condition. They arrived in the mail in identical boxes. One of them was randomly chosen to be Jessica's (the one she opened first), and the other was Andy's. At the time that these cell phones arrived at our house, they were in fact identical--same "genes," you might say, and one would predict that at this point, the functioning of each phone should be identical to the other because of their identical mechanical makeup.
Now, both of these little cell phones spend a good 12 hours of their day in the same house. They enjoy the same room temperature, humidity level, are charged by the same phone chargers plugged into the same outlets, exposed to the same environmental toxins (or lack thereof, we hope), and so on. They even often call the same numbers as each other. These are all what we psychologists might call their "shared environment."
For the rest of the time, however, these cell phones are not in the same environment. One of them lives in Jessica's pocket, purse, or backpack, being toted around to school, childcare centers and homes, and recently on long road trips. The other one lives in Andy's various pockets, going with him to work, class, and meetings, and on the occasional long road trip as well. These environments don't necessarily sound too different, until you consider that one cell phone--Jessica's--is almost always indoors, handled by hands that have been typing or writing, and rarely gets jostled about. Andy's phone, however, spends much of its time outdoors, in the pocket of someone almost constantly engaged in physical activity, and is often handled by hands that have been digging or raking or mowing or moving or cleaning various things. These are all examples of "nonshared environment."
We have not been surprised, therefore, to see that Andy's phone was showing a little more wear than Jessica's. It didn't slide open quite as smoothly as Jessica's, for instance. But still, both were in excellent working condition.
Today, however, we were reminded quite vividly of the different environments each of our phones experience:
Jessica's phone, after a long day of sitting on the nightstand while Jessica was (is) sick, and then hanging out in her office at school for a while.
Andy's phone, after falling out of his pocket and being sucked through an industrial-strength leaf vacuum.
Any questions?
