Try again. Fail again. Fail better.
Martin A. Schwartz wrote a thought-provoking essay on how scientific research makes us feel "stupid" and why that's perfectly OK. He shares an anecdote from his days as a PhD student, in which he came across a question that no one could give him the answer to. "That's when it hit me," he writes. "That's why it was a research problem. And being
my research problem, it was up to me to solve... The crucial lesson was that the scope of things I didn't know wasn't merely vast; it was, for all practical purposes, infinite. That realization, instead of being discouraging, was liberating. If our ignorance is infinite, the only possible course of action is to muddle through as best we can."
That is a foundational idea in scientific research. As Schwartz puts it, "Science involves confronting our 'absolute stupidity'. That kind of stupidity is an existential fact, inherent in our efforts to push our way into the unknown." The scientific process (ask a question, form a hypothesis, test your hypothesis, and draw conclusions) is being "stupid" in a productive way. "Productive stupidity means being ignorant by choice. Focusing on important questions puts us in the awkward position of being ignorant. One of the beautiful things about science is that it allows us to bumble along, getting it wrong time after time, and feel perfectly fine as long as we learn something each time... The more comfortable we become with being stupid, the deeper we will wade into the unknown and the more likely we are to make big discoveries."
In summary: going through the scientific process = productive stupidity. Or, as in the titular quote of this post, "Try again. Fail again. Fail better." That wonderful gem is from Irish writer and Nobel prizewinner Samuel Beckett, who clearly understood that we learn best by trial and error; whether or not we ever reach our original goal is relatively unimportant, as long as we clear up some of our stupidity along the way.
Read Schwartz's full essay: "The importance of stupidity in scientific research"--
Labels: engineering, philosophy, ponderings, science
The technological singularity: future or fantasy?
Over the weekend, I read
this fascinating series of articles in the June 2008 issue of
IEEE Spectrum, addressing the concept of the "technological singularity" which some say will happen by the year 2030.
Spectrum executive editor Glenn Zorpette describes it thus:
"The singularity is supposed to begin shortly after engineers build the first computer with greater-than-human intelligence. That achievement will trigger a series of cycles in which superintelligent machines beget even smarter machine progeny, going from generation to generation in weeks or days rather than decades or years. The availability of all that cheap, mass-produced brilliance will spark explosive economic growth, an unending, hypersonic, technoindustrial rampage that by comparison will make the Industrial Revolution look like a bingo game." (
Full article >>)
Some believe that this singularity will lead, in short order, to a kind of technological rapture. One of the skeptics, science journalist John Horgan, describes this view flippantly, but not inaccurately:
"Like paradise, technological singularity comes in many versions, but most involve bionic brain boosting. At first, we'll become cyborgs, as stupendously powerful brain chips soup up our perception, memory, and intelligence and maybe even eliminate the need for annoying TV remotes. Eventually, we will abandon our flesh-and-blood selves entirely and upload our digitized psyches into computers. We will then dwell happily forever in cyberspace where, to paraphrase Woody Allen, we'll never need to look for a parking space... Notably, singularity enthusiasts tend to be computer specialists, such as the author and retired computer scientist Vernor Vinge... and the entrepreneur Ray Kurzweil. Intoxicated by the explosive progress of information technologies captured by
Moore's Law, such singularitarians foresee a 'merger of biological and nonbiological intelligence,' as Kurzweil puts it, that will culminate in 'immortal software-based humans.' It will happen not within a millennium, or a century, but no later than 2030, according to Vinge... Kurzweil says he has adopted an antiaging regimen so that he'll 'live long enough to live forever.'" (
Full article >>)
Researcher John Casti, however, foresees the singularity going in the opposite direction:
"I think it's scientifically and philosophically on sound footing. The only real issue for me is the time frame over which the singularity will unfold. [The singularity represents] the end of the supremacy of
Homo sapiens as the dominant species on planet Earth. At that point a new species appears, and humans and machines will go their separate ways, not merge one with the other. I do not believe this necessarily implies a malevolent machine takeover; rather, machines will become increasingly uninterested in human affairs just as we are uninterested in the affairs of ants or bees. But it's more likely than not in my view that the two species will comfortably and more or less peacefully coexist -- unless human interests start to interfere with those of the machines." (
Full article >>)
Here, then, is a view of a different kind of singularity (which is, in my opinion, a more plausible one), as proposed by MIT robotics professor Rodney Brooks:
"My own view is that things will unfold very differently... an artificial intelligence could evolve in a much different way. In particular, I don't think there is going to be one single sudden technological 'big bang' that springs [a human-level artificial intelligence, or AI] into 'life.' Starting with the mildly intelligent systems we have today, machines will become gradually more intelligent, generation by generation. The singularity will be a period, not an event.
"This period will encompass a time when we will invent, perfect, and deploy, in fits and starts, ever more capable systems, driven not by the imperative of the singularity itself but by the usual economic and sociological forces. Eventually, we will create truly artificial intelligences, with cognition and consciousness recognizably similar to our own. I have no idea how, exactly, this creation will come about. I also don't know when it will happen, although I strongly suspect it won't happen before 2030, the year that some singularitarians predict.
"But I expect the [AIs] of the future -- embodied, for example, as robots that will roam our homes and workplaces -- to emerge gradually and symbiotically with our society. At the same time, we humans will transform ourselves. We will incorporate a wide range of advanced sensory devices and prosthetics to enhance our bodies. As our machines become more like us, we will become more like them." (
Full article >>)
The questions are many; the speculation runs rampant. Will machines ever be as smart as humans? Will they ever achieve "consciousness"? Will they be our helpers, our caretakers, our overseers? Eventually, time will tell -- assuming that the human race doesn't first undergo some kind of cataclysmic event (e.g., an
Andromeda strain, a nuclear holocaust, extraterrestrial enslavement, the Biblical end of days, etc.).
--
Labels: engineering, my future, philosophy, ponderings, science
A wee taste of Geoffrey Chaucer
In the General Prologue of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, some space is devoted to describing each of the travelers. We'll have a look at his take on the Monk. If you want to read along, the passage can be found
here, with a modern translation given alongside the original Middle English. For the convenience of the more casual reader, I will offer translations as close to the original wording as I can get.
Chaucer’s description of the Monk is fraught with the kind of sarcasm that I enjoy so much in his writing. This becomes evident beginning in lines 177-178, where Chaucer writes of the Monk's disregard for a certain text condemning his favorite pastime:
"
He thought of that text not a pulled hen,
That says that hunters are not holy men "
Clearly the Monk enjoys hunting and other things too much to let such old-fashioned religious notions get in his way. At first read Chaucer seems to agree with this philosophy (l. 183-192):
"
And I said his opinion was good.
Why should he study, and make himself mad,
Upon a book in cloister always to pore,
Or work with his hands and labor,
As Austin bids? How shall the world be served?
Let Austin have his work to him reserved!
Therefore he was a rider aright:
Greyhounds he had, as swift as fowl in flight;
Of riding and of hunting for the hare
Was all his lust, for no cost would he spare. "
Why should the Monk study and labor? "How shall the world be served?" This seems justification enough; Chaucer writes, "Therefore he was a rider aright," as if this is the best thing on which the Monk could possibly spend his time and effort. The verses that follow give a description of the Monk's person, giving him the air of a rich man who has spared no expense in the pursuit of fashionable comforts: fur-trimmed cloak, gold pin, well-conditioned boots, and, from all indications,
very fine dining.
Some might say that Chaucer genuinely agrees with the Monk's habits, being of a practical mind; the Monk can't change the world or really improve the quality of life for lesser people, so why should he waste his time?
However, especially in light of Chaucer's other works, such an observation would seem to be drastically out of character with his apparent set of moral values.
"
Suffice unto your things, though they be small,
For avarice is hateful, ...
Savor no more than behooves you "
The above, translated from Chaucer's "Ballad of Good Counsel," praises the simple lifestyle and the virtue of being satisfied with no more than you need. Considering his verses about the Monk, I find myself responding with equal sarcasm to the Monk's own set of values. "How shall the world be served," indeed?
--
Labels: literature, philosophy
I went to Salt Lake City and all I got was...
- Dry, irritated eyes and nasal membranes (really, their air quality isn't great)
- Bigger sleep deficit (Discovery Channel in the hotel, and not sleeping in my own bed)
- Up-front, standing-room-only view of Chris Sharma's awesome whipper off the top crux move of the USA Climbing men's national final route
- Bad case of nerves from seeing a bunch of tractor-trailers and RVs blown sideways off of I-80 by strong cross-winds in Wyoming
- A new perspective on pantry management
It's really the last item that I'm here to talk about. When we were in town in late January, the local supermarket chain Macey's was having their annual "Family Preparedness Sale." They were advertising great sale prices on gallon-deep cans, five-gallon buckets, and ten-pound (and larger) sacks of freeze-dried blueberries, dried beans, rolled oats, cracked wheat berries, instant milk powder, powdered eggs, and myriad other items, pretty much all you could hope for.
I don't have anything against Mormons personally; I'm not going to tell anyone what they should or shouldn't believe. However, there are two things I really admire about the whole Mormon culture: this preparedness thing (if the apocalypse ever comes, the world will be rebuilt afterward by Mormons, and by fortified back-country mountain folk and the paranoid freaks who have fully-stocked fallout shelters in their back yards), and their work ethic. There's a lot to be said for a serious work ethic, too.
--
Labels: everyday, food, philosophy, ponderings, travel
Zen for geeks
I used to write a lot of poetry. This was something I scribbled on paper a couple of years ago. I came across it the other day, and just reading it left me with a pleasantly relaxed mindset.
It's untitled, but I like to think of it as a kind of poetical zen (for geeks, and other people who think too much).
I could spend hours
right here,
lying among the flowers,
breathing in the air:
sheer, sunlit atmosphere.
Breathe deep --
the flowers love to share --
and worries lose hold
on the edge of sleep,
as if this fresh earth smell,
both new and old,
is some chemical debonder
of stress;
it soothes as it wanders,
permeating
and percolating
with feather-light caress,
until every care
diffuses through the shell
of my skin, to the air,
to be lost, finally,
inconsequently.
If I wait
a long, long time, maybe
it will permeate
all of me;
and I just might
sublimate
and float away,
my very DNA
taking flight
to come apart
sequentially,
the tiny atoms of my heart
mingling with the atmosphere
to be Breathed,
essentially,
through the very lungs of Earth,
my double-helix unwreathed
in a kind of rebirth;
and fade to black,
from whence I came,
lacking form to hold my name --
carbon to oxygen and back.
--
Labels: imagine yourself here, literature, philosophy, ponderings
Salary Theorem: The less you know, the more you make
I don't remember where I found this, but it makes perfect sense. Proof:
Given:
(1) Knowledge is Power.
(2) Time is Money.
(3) Power = Work / Time (as every engineer knows).
Let's do the math. We can combine (1), (2), and (3) as follows:
Knowledge = Power = Work / Time = Work / (Money). Therefore,
(4) Knowledge = Work / Money.
Solving (4) for Money, we get
(5) Money = Work / Knowledge.
Thus, as Knowledge approaches zero, Money approaches infinity, regardless of Work.
--
Labels: engineering, everyday, philosophy, science
Some debating about stem cell ethics
My assignment was to find, read, and discuss one or two articles about the ethics of human stem cell research. The first time I read the Fischbach article and attempted to put my response on paper, I found myself bordering on a rant about bias and authoritative influence (
grrr...), so I held off until I had the time to find and read a counterpoint article. When I finally wrote up my response, well...
Here are the results.
Read:
G.D. Fischbach, R.L. Fischbach: "Stem cells: science, policy, and ethics." [PDF, 533 KB]
K. Hug: "Therapeutic perspectives of human embryonic stem cell research versus the moral status of a human embryo - does one have to be compromised for the other?" [PDF, 190 KB]
Discuss:
Given further research and more time to think about it, I now feel that I can discuss the Fischbach article with relative objectivity (meaning I think I can avoid letting my irritation affect my critical judgment). Granted, my ill humor at this article has been percolating for almost a week. For that reason I feel compelled to issue the following disclaimer: Read this at your own discretion. (Also, please note that all emphases are my own, for purposes of highlighting certain things.)
The Fischbach article is clearly biased in favor of producing new human embryonic stem cell (hESC) lines. With regard to hESC research the authors employ words and phrases like "promise," "hope," and "relief from suffering." They're not stepping outside the bounds of what seems to be general consensus among the scientific community, namely that there is a great deal of promise in the possible applications of hESC-derived treatments. There are many possibilities that, if realized, would prove beneficial to many individuals. They say straightforwardly that producing these new cell lines requires, at present, the destruction of blastocysts, which are pre-implantation embryos consisting of 100-200 undifferentiated stem cells.
They get off to a good start, pointing out from the get-go, "The profound ethical issues raised call for informed, dispassionate debate." They ask the important questions: "What is the moral status of the blastocyst? Should blastocysts be protected under the same laws that govern research on human subjects?" Then they ruin their credibility with me in the next paragraph when they jump up on their little soapbox and start grandstanding: "Indeed," (who says "Indeed," anyway? **Warning Flag**) "the integrity of the scientific process and its independence from politics and from fundamentalist dogma are at stake." (This is not the kind of declaration that I would label as "dispassionate.") Hey, authors, I hate to point it out, but you were the ones who brought up the "profound ethical issues" and the "moral status" of the blastocyst. An individual's set of ideas about ethics and morals stem from their personal philosophy/worldview, which has everything to do with their set of beliefs ("fundamentalist dogma"), none of which can be proven scientifically. And that brings me to the whole issue of "knowledge" vs. "belief" and what exactly constitutes either one, and from here I could really go off on the "religion" of atheism/naturalism... (And hey, look, it's my personal favorite soapbox. I'll leave this alone -- for now, anyway, because a lot of my scientific ponderings seem to come back to this point eventually.)
Anyway... My point is that Fischbach & Fischbach seem to be throwing around a lot of hefty catch-phrases in a completely non-validated fashion to make their own points, which (in my own humble opinion, of course) undermines their whole position.
What kind of sealed the deal for me was one of the goals for this paper that they state near the end of the intro section: "we must reduce the emotional valence of phrases such as... 'destruction of embryos.'" This indicates to me a certain cavalier disregard for some very valid ethical concerns that they don't seem to share. I tried to read this article with an objective mindset (I really tried, I promise), but by making statements such as that one they have made it exceedingly difficult to remain objective.
Well, after the massively irritating goat rodeo that they make of their introduction, the Fischbachs get back down to business. The next couple of pages give a nice, factual, soapbox-lacking explanation of hESC development, pros and cons of research on adult stem cells, positive results seen in previous stem cell-related studies, and the basics of somatic cell nuclear transfer (SCNT). From the explanation of SCNT they trail into an attempt at defusing the issue of reproductive vs. research/therapeutic cloning; this attempt is largely successful, because it seems to be only a matter of clearing up some confusion, but I don't care because that's not the real issue here.
Then they work through the hierarchy of legal paperwork and hair-splitting distinctions that define what is and is not allowed with regard to hESC line creation and research. They wrap up their legal-political posturing with speculation about a currently (as of Nov. 2004) undecided bill that would outlaw human embryo formation by SCNT in both the private and federally-funded sectors. (I don't know whether or not it was passed into law.) Their jaw-dropping commentary on this is as follows: "This extraordinary legislation would criminalize scientific research... Effects of this chilling attack on the scientific process extend beyond hESC research. It casts a pall over all science."
(Let us pause for a moment in awed recognition of the sheer volume of B.S. that the authors have managed to cram into those three sentences.) To make a potentially lengthy criticism short, this is a perfect example of why I find the authors guilty of gross overstatement of melodramatic proportions.
The authors turn next to the ethical issues. "When does life begin?" they ask. Well, really, this is a matter of philosophical debate (first of all, define "life"), but the Fischbachs try to make it a clear-cut scientific problem. "Defining life as the moment of conception is certainly a convenient starting point," they say, "but this relies on an assumption about the value of a potential life." I will refrain from dissecting this argument in detail, but I wish to point out that their own position relies on an assumption about the lack of value of that potential life.
I'll comment on just three more items before I gleefully burn the article out of sheer irritation.
Statement: "We must weigh the moral imperative to help suffering individuals against the inherent value of preimplantation blastocycts."
Comment: As if the choice is obvious. What about the morality of respecting "potential" life? I also like how they refer to the developing embryo in such clinical terms. (Yeah, that's sarcasm.)
Statement: "We have many examples in history where attempts to outlaw fields of study have led to terrible and terrifying consequences (from Galileo to Lysenko)."
Comment: Ooh, scary words. Once again, I feel this is a case of the authors making a melodramatic overstatement. And I happen to have studied the life and work of Galileo; please enumerate these "terrible and terrifying consequences," because I'm coming up blank. (Actually, I think the overall story of how Galileo was persecuted for his science is inspiring, though sad in ending.)
Statement: "Finally, this effort should go forward because we simply will not know the answers unless we do the research. The desire to know is absolutely intrinsic to humans and has a survival value as well as a moral one."
Comment: Wow. They just kind of throw that one out there and let it hang. The statement comprising the second half of the first sentence, that we won't know until we do the research, is simple fact. The complete statement, that this is justification for the research, is opinion. (It is, in fact, an opinion that, in my infinite wisdom, I happen to disagree with.) The "desire to know" -- natural human curiosity -- yes, it would seem to be inherent in our sentient nature. Does it have a "survival value"? In many ways, I suppose, this is true; we learn how things work so as to better master our environment and therefore increase our chances of survival. But does the "desire to know" have a "moral" value? "Moral" is defined as "of, pertaining to, or concerned with the principles or rules of right conduct or the distinction between right and wrong" [Dictionary.com Unabridged, v 1.0.1]. (And hey, look, it's my soapbox again! Morality is another one of those "belief" things; no one can state factually that they know that any one thing is "right" or "wrong," only that they believe it falls into one category or the other.) Is it morally right or wrong to have this "desire to know"? This is another matter of philosophical/religious, not scientific, debate. I am astounded that these authors have the gall to wave the "moral value" flag in their defense. (Then, of course, beyond our "desire to know" there are certain things -- for example, the existence or non-existence of a "higher power" beyond our current understanding -- that we must believe to be true; we accept these beliefs on the basis of faith, because when it comes down to intellectual honesty, we must admit that these things cannot be "scientifically" proven or disproven... But that's a dissertation for another day.)
Wow, I just realized how long this is getting. I need to be done now. I'll keep the rest of this short.
As for the Hug article, I should say that I really (really, really, really) appreciated the straightforward and unbiased approach that the author chose to take. Hug didn't shy away from the fact that there are many differing opinions on these issues and that in this case, in fact, you cannot separate the philosophical from the scientific ethics. It really helped me broaden my understanding of the "ethical issues" involved in hESC research. I haven't exactly changed my opinion, but I have refined it a great deal.
Perspective is a wonderful thing.
(I would also love to go yell at the Fischbachs in person.)
--
Labels: philosophy, science
Thinking outside the box
I am irritated by these seemingly popular arguments over scientifically proving or disproving the existence of God. The entire concept is a joke. The fundamental basis for all of these arguments is flawed.
You see, science is based on our observations and ideas about the concrete, natural world. Scientific arguments are rational and logical. Therefore, in order to scientifically prove or disprove something, we must approach the issue on a rational, logical basis.
This is my problem. People who want to scientifically prove or disprove the existence of God are assuming that they can fit God and his actions into a rational, logical box. This is ridiculous. Those of us who believe in God are not thinking
irrationally in order to do so; we are accepting that not everything fits into that rational, logical box. God is
supernatural.
supernatural: of, pertaining to, or being above or beyond what is natural; unexplainable by natural law or phenomena; of, pertaining to, characteristic of, or attributed to God or a deity.
Beyond the rational, logical box of the natural world is the larger, sometimes indefinable
non-rational realm, of which the supernatural is a part. God cannot be explained within the limits of rational thought; therefore, God cannot be "proven" or "disproven" scientifically.
I would like to point out, finally, that even atheists operate under a kind of faith: while I and others take it on faith that God exists, though we cannot prove this
rationally, atheists and those of a similar mindset must take it on a kind of faith that God does
not exist, because they cannot
rationally prove that, either. Whether or not you believe God is out there, the whole concept of God is outside the rational box, out there in the non-rational realm; trying to rationally prove or disprove his existence is a futile endeavor. Deities, the supernatural, are beyond the scope of rational arguments.
The moral for today: Stop arguing over the premise that God fits into your neat little rational box. He doesn't fit, and he never will. Whether you choose to believe in the existence or non-existence of God, accept the fact that it is a non-rational belief and not a rational conclusion. Learn to live with it.
--
Labels: philosophy
Row, row, row your boat
I work, and I study, and I make small talk with various acquaintances over coffee or breakfast or a game of cards; and sometimes, like now, I wonder what all of my efforts are leading to.
Oh, of course, I have these pretty ideas in my head of a nice house and a picket fence and 2.5 kids and a dog, but I suppose nothing on this earth is guaranteed. Sometimes that thought can be a little bit depressing, but this time (and some other times) it makes me sit back and realize, once again, that I am completely in God's hands, no matter what may or may not happen; and that makes me feel a little hopeful and a little apprehensive, but mostly I am at peace with the simple fact that God has a plan and he knows what he's doing.
Some people liken this to being adrift at sea; the analogy is that we, the sailor, have no control over where the boat is going, but simply must take what is thrown at us by the wind and the waves, keeping in mind that God will guide our boat where he means it to go.
I don't like that analogy. As an admitted control freak and amateur philosopher, I find it hard to accept that we play no part in sailing our own boats. Rather, I like to think that we have cast off with a fully functioning rudder and oars and sails, but with an incomplete map of the sea. We may have a destination in mind, or at least navigation check-points that we mean to reach during the course of our journey; we may have a timetable we wish to keep. But we are working from this incomplete map and from our imperfect knowledge of the sea and its hidden intricacies, so we can never know with absolute certainty what path we will follow to our final destination. Sometimes we will sail with the prevailing winds; sometimes we will struggle to tack in a different direction; sometimes we will be caught up in a current that we cannot fight. Every decision we make will have some dependence on our navigational fix; if we want to see the journey through, we must strive to remain properly oriented. But after all, God will guide our boat where he means it to go, with or without our help.
As Thoreau wrote, "It is by a mathematical point only that we are wise, as the sailor or the fugitive slave keeps the polestar in his eye; but that is sufficient guidance for all our life. We may not arrive at our port within a calculable period, but we would preserve the true course."
--
Labels: my future, philosophy, ponderings
... My Future?
Do you ever wonder, amidst worry about today and tomorrow and the rest of your life, how much longer you might have? What if the rest of your life is all of next week? Or next month? Next year? What if (God forbid) all we have is tomorrow?
In my senior year of high school, someone wrote in the yearbook, "Party forever! You can sleep when you're dead."
For those who may find this a rather impractical (if exciting)
modus operandi, someone else wrote in the same yearbook, "Dream as if you'll live forever; live as if you'll die tomorrow."
What if?
What if you were to die today, unexpectedly, without warning: no last confessions, no good-byes, no more chances to tell your mom "I love you."
Think about that for a moment.
What would be left undone, unsaid? What did you never get around to doing?
I have plans for the future. But really, each moment is up in the air until it has passed. Maybe I should say that I have
hopes for the future. That may be a more realistic statement.
In the end, I suppose, I will consider my life to have been successful if I was loved and will be missed, and if the people I love know that I love them.
--
Labels: my future, philosophy, ponderings
New beginnings?
And here we are at the onset of another year. The clocks have ticked over, the calendars are brand-new. Everyone talks about New Year's resolutions and a "fresh start for the new year." Really, what is New Year's Day but a marker along a long, continuing road?
2005, as years go, ran the board. It was astonishingly lousy, depressing, outrageously funny, and surprisingly pleasant, among other things, in turns. We had a death in the family, then a birth; I turned 21, attended a few weddings, had surgery, changed academic majors, failed some classes, aced others. Having come through all these things, I still have my close family and they still love me (go figure); I have my health; I have good friends; I have my faith. Life is not bad. And onwards, hopefully upwards, things continue; and the earth keeps right on spinning.
--
Labels: philosophy, ponderings
