Riffing on a Fark.com thread, John Lynch ponders the pearls of wisdom he might offer his 12-year-old self. This got me to thinking that there is useful advice I’d want to share with that earlier time-slice of me, but there is also information about which I think I’d keep earlier-me in the dark.*
Here’s what I’d share with my 12-year-old self:
Category Archives: Personal
My mom on the Nobel Laureates in Physics.
Since, as I mentioned, my mom worked with data from COBE, and thus, was in a position to cross paths with newly-minted Nobel Laureates John Mather and George Smoot, I shook her down for some information about the pair.
Disclaimer: I suspect Mom exaggerates more in her anecdotes about her children than in the ones she tells about her work place, but I’m counting on her for the details here.
Huzzah for Smoot and Mather!
Chad broke the story, at least in the ScienceBlogs galaxy, but I wanted to add my own “Woo-hoo!” for John C. Mather and George F. Smoot, who have won the 2006 Nobel Prize in Physics.
I didn’t want this one to go unnoted, as my mom worked to analyze piles of COBE data and, during this period of her life, made the acquaintance of George Smoot, who (from what I can gather) is not only a really smart scientist but also a good and decent human being.
I’m hoping Mom will leave some good Smoot tidbits in the comments.
What’s the point of a college education?
I started out thinking I was writing this as an open letter to my students, but it turns out I’m talking to you all, too.
* * * * *
I have very strong feelings about what the point of a college education should be. Maybe you do, too. It’s entirely possible that we would disagree about this issue, or that you are so happy with your own picture of the point of a college education that you really have no interests in anyone else’s.
That’s fine. But if you’re my student, certain things I get worked up about may strike you as mysterious if you don’t know what I think this whole thing is aiming for. On the off chance that you’d rather not see your instructor as eccentric or wacko, this is where I lay it all out.
A college education is not job training.
Free advice for would-be plagiarists.
Disclaimer: Plagiarism is bad. A quick search for “plagiarism” on this blog will demonstrate that I’ve taken a clear stand against plagiarism.
That said, if one were, hypothetically, planning a little online-copy-and-paste plagiarism, and if one’s instructor has earned a Ph.D., in Philosophy, from Stanford, one might reconsider using the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy as the source of several uncited sentences.
There is a better-than-average chance that the instructor is familiar with SEP — indeed, even with the specific entry you (hypothetically) are tempted to plunder.
Even if she’s not, she’s at least as handy with a Google search as you are.
Historical details which, if gotten wrong, might just make me lose it.
It’s Monday, it’s cold and overcast, and I’m grading papers. As it turns out, these are perfect conditions to make me grumpy.
Rather than wallow in it, though, I’ve decided to be proactive about trying to head off future grumpiness. My philosophy of science classes are about to embark on some exercises about scientific theory choice, for which they will be considering Ptolemaic and Copernican accounts of planetary motions. Having done these kind of exercises for many semesters, I know that there’s a good chance I’ll end up with stacks of papers that may make me howl in despair if I don’t read the riot act now. We’re not just talking the essay opener, “Since the dawn of time man has pondered X,” nor the conclusion, “In the end, how can we ever know?” We’re talking hard-core Bugs Bunny history.
I like Bugs Bunny as well as the next academic, but I prefer that historical claims in essays that I must grade not be outrageously false. So, here’s my attempt to innoculate my students:
Why is this visual representation intelligible?
Elder offspring: Hey, that’s a cool chili pepper necklace.
Dr. Free-Ride: Do you know that I’ve had this necklace for about ten years and you are the first person who didn’t think it was a carrot?
Elder offspring: A carrot? That doesn’t look like a carrot!
Dr. Free-Ride: I didn’t think so, either. But I’m guessing it’s because the chili is orange, and people don’t recognize orange chilies as easily as red ones.
Elder offspring: Still, the shape’s all wrong for a carrot.
Dr. Free-Ride: I’m really pleased with your powers of observation and your ability to distinguish different fruits and vegetables based on subtle differences in shape.
Elder offspring: Thank you.
Younger offspring: (Coming into the room) Is that a chili pepper necklace?
Dr. Free-Ride: See, you didn’t think it was a carrot, either!
Younger offspring: Did you get that at Chili’s? No, the shape isn’t exactly like the chili in the logo.
Dr. Free-Ride: I’m still pleased about the powers of observation, but suddenly less pleased about the objects of observation.
I want a spinach salad.
I can’t remember a time I have had a more severe jones for a spinach salad than the last few days. The perfect balance of crisp and earthy and creamy, whose eating would be not merely a mechanical refueling of my body, but a transcendant experience — is that too much to ask?
Well, during a spinach-borne outbreak of E. coli O157:H7 it is. But, while I dream of spinach (and grade papers), I’m thinking of how information (or lack of information) about our foods plays a role in our ability to make choices about what to eat.
Why I’m raising the sprogs vegetarian.
In a comment on the last post, zwa asks:
I’m curious about your vegetarianism (as one myself) and whether your kids are. If yes, did they choose it, if no did you try to convince them?
My kids are vegetarians, and have been since birth — so they didn’t choose it. I have imposed it on them in a stunning act of maternalism.
OK, it’s actually not that stunning.
Anyway, for the curious, here are my reasons for this particular parenting choice:
Getting along vs. fixing the problem.
There’s been a marked difference of opinion between two of my fellow ScienceBloggers about what ought to be done about the “pipeline problem” in physics.
Chad suggests that there may be a substantial problem with high school level physics instruction, given that “[e]ven if high school classes are 50/50 [female to male], the first college physics class is already 25/75”.
I take it that the worry about what’s happening in the high school physics classroom isn’t going to spark much controversy in these parts. (However, I do recall hearing, when I was still in high school, that at some colleges the probability of becoming a physics major was much higher among those who didn’t take high school physics — whether because the ripple-tank experiment was really that traumatic or because physics taught without calculus makes no bloody sense, I do not know.) Rather, here’s the part of Chad’s post that sparked the heated exchange:
Everybody seems to have an anecdote about a creepy physics professor, or an unpleasant graduate student, or a sexist post-doc.
This bugs me for a couple of reasons. The obvious one being that I’m a college physics professor, and I’m not that guy. I’m not fool enough to try to deny that unreconstructed sexist pigs exist in the profession, but I’m not one of them, and neither are my immediate colleagues, and sweeping statements that lump us in with the pigs of the world bother me.
To this, Zuska responded:
There are a million things that should be going on at the college level that have nothing to do with young girls themselves, but have everything to do with the behavior of college professors. And here I am talking about three kinds of behavior.
- The absence of harassing or discriminatory behavior – behaving like a decent human being.
- The awareness of how unconscious bias operates in situations where evaluation or decision-making takes place – behaving proactively to counteract it.
- The promotion of a positive climate for young girls and women in science – participation in outreach programs, lobbying for institutional transformation initiatives, being an advocate for women’s issues in the profession at large.
If you are not doing ANY of these things, if you are just sitting back in your office, doing your research, teaching your one little intro class and congratulating yourself because you didn’t drive all the women students away, then get out of my face and stop wasting your breath and internet electrons telling people they shouldn’t complain about professors.
Some commenters opined that, even if Zuska had a reasonable point here, the way she expressed it may have done more to alienate Chad than to bring him around. Zuska responded to this with a post about how “keeping things civil” has turned out to be a pretty good strategy to keep things just the way they are.
So, what the hell am I doing here? Zuska and Chad are both grown-ups, perfectly capable of working through their own disagreements — and although I have met neither in real life, I should state for the record that I am quite fond of them both (and, for that matter, of some of the commenters involved in the fracas).
But, I think their diverging viewpoints here illustrate some features of the world of academic science that the scientific community would do well to attend to sooner, rather than later. And, the war of words brought back an incident from my own experience that I had nearly forgotten, and I’m trying to work out why precisely that memory tumbled forth.