There seems to be a high degree of homophily, particularly in terms of race and culture, in student/faculty pairings.
This may lead to an admissions bias, among other things.
There seems to be a high degree of homophily, particularly in terms of race and culture, in student/faculty pairings.
This may lead to an admissions bias, among other things.
My thought patterns are not quite as unique as I had previously thought. Henri PoincarĂ©’s thought processes appeared to resemble my own.
After seeing how faculty are hired in academia, I realize that all of my problems were predetermined as soon as I wrote the word “Algorithms” on my personal statement for grad. school.
I can’t help it. When I start programming, I get really excited. It doesn’t matter how hard the problem might be in theory; sit me down in front of a computer for a few hours and I’ll solve it. I wrote a master’s project that was supposed to take me 3 months in less than a week. I wrote a classifier that took my group a year of fine-tuning in a single day, and it worked better the first time than theirs did after all of that time. I just whizzed through a programming assignment that my professor admits should take about 9 to 10 hours in a matter of one. I can’t really do this sort of thing if I’m not coding, and I can’t do it at all if I’m under heavy pressure, but if the environment is right, it’s amazing to even me, and perhaps explains why my expectations of myself in other areas are sometimes unreasonable. In some ways, it’s a pity that I don’t get to code more often, because I love doing it and I’m really good at it (having done it since 8).
I need to find fields where I can both code and do research. Representing a problem in code, thus rendering most calculations trivial, just removes ambiguities and minute details that could obstruct the general thought process and just seems to augment my thinking ability. For an ‘N’ type, more general thought processing and fewer details is the optimal situation đŸ™‚
Not an idea, just a philosophy of mine: don’t owe anyone money if you can at all help it. Ever. Period. It’s a bad situation to be in. If you have less, spend less until you have more. I’m watching some of my friends get into debt and thinking “Why? Was there no better way?”
I don’t even have a credit card. This isn’t an issue, because I’d max out just about any credit card’s limit before I could draw 1/10 of the balance on my debit card. This is the way I intend to keep it. There is perhaps a slightly higher risk of liability if the card is stolen or compromised, but my bank still offers me a very great deal of protection.
CDs are pretty nice, too. Put $10,000 that you almost certainly aren’t going to use anyway away for a few months and take out $10,500. Not a bad chunk of change, considering that the net impact of the CD on your ability to use your finances was probably zero.
I tend to shy away from riskier investments that are tied to markets, at least until I’ve had a chance to perform a thorough analysis, complete with time-series mining and lots of fun statistics in tandem with my own social intuitions. And then I’d probably just invest on my own. Or not at all, if I can find some better way to attain the funds necessary for my goals while still retaining my rather strict internal ethical standards.
I just read an article on Slashdot about the “power of algorithms” (really about involving both humans and machine learning in solving problems, which is a far cry from theoretical study of algorithms, but the article just demonstrates that most people can’t distinguish between the two). My first thought is that the growing awareness that the article summarizes arrived approximately a year and a half too late for me, as the root cause of my problems with graduate schools (both regarding admissions and independent learning opportunities) last year seems to stem from my choice of algorithms as a (“cold”) field of study.
The tide of increased awareness arrives at a perfect time for me to obtain a very cushy job in industry after obtaining my doctorate. Unfortunately, this is (a) not going to be a problem for me in any case, and (b) not really my goal. I want to do good science and creatively solve the big problems. Unfortunately, despite demonstrating considerable talent in the areas I want to go into (of course; I wouldn’t choose them otherwise), I haven’t been able to receive the slightest modicum of institutional training in those fields. In fact, I’ve met active resistance while attempting to procure such training. Autodidacticism is good, but it only goes so far, especially for a verbal learner such as myself.
And I still maintain that the research community is slighting a very powerful field that still has much room to expand.
This semester, I have a professor who likes to assign a backbreaking workload every week. There are two things wrong with this approach:
The first is that students stop taking the assignments seriously after about the first month of class if the workload is too heavy. What ends up being submitted afterwards is invariably halfhearted, since no one wants to put an unreasonable amount of work into a problem that they may not get the correct solution to anyway. This doesn’t affect grades at all, since the relative ranking of students is preserved even as the mean work quality decreases. The result is that the entire class seems to start falling behind on assignments.
The second problem is more fundamental for a course populated entirely by Ph. D. students: we need to write our dissertations. We don’t have time to waste on excessive coursework. The work is due sooner, so it takes priority of necessity, but that prevents us from getting our research done.
Not that anyone in my group is even giving me the courtesy of responding to my emails, much less actually doing work on the paper they’re placing their names on.
First, happy Autumnal Equinox and Yom Kippur. If you are fasting, may your fast be an easy one.
On a more personal note, I’ve decided to go into industry post-graduation, which means I will most likely disregard my advisor’s suggestions, tempting as they might be, of taking up a postdoc at CMU. I’ve had a bias for a while, but it’s now definite, and only very strange circumstances will alter my decision. Part of it was more passive recruitment, this time from GE, Exxon-Mobil, and AT&T – all great companies, all great jobs, the credentials that set me apart (in particular, the fact that I had the highest GPA in my class) are taken into account in the hiring process, and I probably don’t need to worry that I won’t pass the interviews if I demonstrate programming and analytical abilities but can’t recite the CYK algorithm from memory (ala Google, which would have been an excellent place to work, and to continue my own research, if it had worked out).
Again, we need to contrast this with the academic response to the same credentials (plus a perfect GRE score, four glowing letters of recommendation, and a model personal statement that the companies didn’t even see!), where rejection from all of the schools that could have given me a real education (for the first time since 4th grade) forced me into Philadelphia, a city I loathe so deeply that I structure my entire schedule to minimize my time there (conflicting frequently with my advisor, who attempts to maximize my time in the lab, which also has the side effect of minimizing my productive time by jamming a 3+ hour daily commute into the works). It’s something that still burns within me, for the effects of the decision are permanent: I’m not receiving earnest scientific training, I’m not working in theory, my efforts to acquire proficiency in other fields are being severely and quite deliberately suppressed, I still haven’t defined my relative proficiencies or limits (or even learned study habits!) because I’m still effortlessly outstripping my class, and on top of it all I’m being pushed into traveling for 3 hours to one of my least favorite places on the planet at every available opportunity. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get over it; it’s completely altered the course of my life, my career, and my scientific output, and not in a good way. This is why I can’t even talk about it without the discussion degenerating into a rant. It was just absolutely unjust for someone with my proven ability and purity of intent to be denied a high-quality education, essentially left to wither, on the crux of his scientific career.
It’s not just a bias against past slightings, however. I’d put those aside in terms of career but for one thing, which I am noticing more with every passing day: the career of a scientist is socially constructed. You are nothing if you are not revered by your peers. One of my own theories (my 19th psychological postulate) states that a caste’s attitude towards you is a reflection of its own social values; an immediate corollary is that entire sectors will have rather consistent attitudes towards you over time. I wouldn’t formulate it if I didn’t believe it; my past reception by both sectors is a reflection of the direction my career will take.
And then there’s the research environment. I firmly believe that, for a theoretician, the lab is the last place to go to do research. Einstein had it right – stay in the patent office and devote your mental resources to your theories. Communication is a distraction. Travel is a distraction. The unfamiliar environment is (initially) a distraction. The lack of tools can be a distraction. Relying upon other people can be a BIG distraction if you’re not fortunate enough to end up with people who can be bothered to pull their own weight (a recent journal paper was completed in January, save for one experimental result which I must rely on the UPenn people on our team to produce, as they have the classifier that can produce it. Guess what? It still hasn’t been published!)
Here’s one that most people miss: devoting long stretches of contiguous time to research is a distraction! Think too much about a single approach for too long and you become entrenched in one mode of thought. Again, we have a historical precedent of the effectiveness of just thinking about other things, this time in Edison.
So yes, I do believe that industry would give me a better environment than academia. It also provides a useful fallback option, in the form of a development position, in case I become so disgusted with the way research is done that I decide to leave it altogether.
I hypothesized that most executives have names near the beginning of the alphabet. I decided to check this hypothesis on Google’s list of executives (sample size 42; I left out the board of directors), ran a simple linear regression analysis, and found a trendline:
y=-.106x+3.089
Where x=1 signifies ‘A’, x=2 signifies ‘B’, etc. Given that the maximum bin range (one bin per alphabetic character) was 4 and the domain contains 26 variables, this is a decently significant trend. (This is a cursory analysis; I’m not doing anything particularly powerful, so pardon the lack of t-tests and other heavy-duty analysis techniques).
There were 27 executives with last names in the range A-L and 16 with last names in the range M-Z. The graph was trimodal, with peaks in C-D, L-N, and S-T.
To see how tradition can defy logic, one need not look further than a calendar. We’re nearing the end of September, to be followed by October, then November, and finally December. Perfectly logical, right? 7, 8, 9, 10?
No: 9, 10, 11, 12 đŸ™‚