Puppy Love
It's been a long week in many ways, the most irritating of which was a near fight at the intramural basketball game Thursday night. I was pretty down about the whole thing when I got home, but this is why we have a dog.
I sat on the living-room floor (I didn't want to sweat on the couch), and took off the shirt and socks I'd worn in the game. These immediately attracted her attention, and evidently met with her approval. The glowing green eyes mean she's happy.
She may not be the brightest dog in the world, but she does love me.
Posted at 7:42 AM | link | follow-ups | 2 comments
Stop. Just... Stop.
We interrupt our inside-baseball academic navel gazing for a little football commentary. Or, rather, meta-football meta-commentary, because I'm commenting on non-football comments made by a football commentator.
The writer in question is Gregg Easterbrook, who many wrongly persist in thinking of as a general-purpose public intellectual. "He's a senior editor of The New Republic," these people say, "How can you belittle him as merely a football commentator?"
The answer is simple: his football commentary is excellent. But every time he puts fingers to keyboard to write about any other subject that I know anything about, he reveals himself to be a complete and utter chowderhead. Thus, I feel that I'm not belittling him by referring to him as a football commentator, but rather pointing out his strengths.
Sadly, he insists on working non-football topics into even his football commentary, such as his Super Bowl column, which contains this summary of recent results from the ATRAP collaboartion at CERN:
Ed DeJesus of Norwood, Mass., reports that the CERN research accelerator in Switzerland has just created anti-hydrogen in extremely small quantities. Anti-hydrogen is the antimatter mirror image of hydrogen. If an anti-hydrogen atom met a hydrogen atom, each would release all its energy in a total-annihilation reaction far more potent than the nuclear fusion that powers the sun and thermonuclear bombs. Anti-protons previously made in accelerators have been isolated by elaborate magnetic fields to keep them from contacting normal matter and annihilating; CERN's achievement is to create entire anti-atoms and hold them in a stable condition using pressure from lasers. "The ultimate goal is to make a goodly supply of anti-atoms, store them and then probe their internal structure," CERN reports.
This appears to have been generated from this press release. Or, rather, by having a ten-year-old with ADD read that press release, and summarize it for him. This isn't even a physics problem, so much as a reading comprehension problem: any literate adult reading the press release for themselves would surely notice that this is not the first experiment to produce antihydrogen (there are at least two references to prior work, starting with the third sentence of the release), and that the lasers are not used to trap the atoms, but as part of the production reaction (in fact, nothing in the release suggests that the atoms are trapped at all after they are created-- I'll have to check the paper when I'm at work).
Of course, it doesn't really matter to Easterbrook that he's mangled the description of the experiment, as it's really just a springboard for some Luddite windbaggery about antimatter bombs. "In theory an antimatter bomb the size of a baseball could obliterate a city." Sure, and when we've worked out how to make 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 times as many antihydrogen atoms as we've made to date (at the rate of a couple thousand a year, last I heard), this will be a real dilemma. Of course, the clone armies will have taken over by then, so it's not that big a deal.
Of course, that's not even close to the levels of fatuousness he achieves when he attempts to talk about cosmology:
Both the donut and soccer-ball camps hold that when astronomers scan deep space, the infinity they think they see is an illusion. In some doughnut-shaped or soccer-inspired or bagel-sliced way, the cosmos appears much larger than it is. Cosmologists estimate there are at least 100 billion galaxies; actually, these researchers contend, what we observe is reflections of a much smaller number of galaxies: a traveler moving at super-speed straight out into the universe would eventually end up back at the starting point, not continue forever. The universe is an illusion? Well, this seems easier to swallow than the idea that all material for the entire cosmos popped out of a single point with no content, as Big Bang theory maintains.
Just... stop. You're hurting America. Take your cue from John Madden, and just disappear until August.
Posted at 8:44 AM | link | follow-ups | 21 comments
Clarifying the Unclear
A couple of comments on the comments to the previous post. I'm elevating this to a new post because, well, I don't want this to get lost in the many other comments. I should also note additional comments at Word Munger and Eclexys.
Starting with the most specific miscommunication of the my original post, I should note that when I think of GenEd science classes, I'm not usually thinking of the classic "Physics for Poets" survey class, that starts with Newtonian mechanics and tries to cover all the basic laws of physics without doing any math. We don't actually teach any of those classes, and I don't know that anybody really thinks they're a good idea.
What I usually think of is the sort of thing that a number of commenters have mentioned, both in this thread and the older one that got me thinking about this. What we actually teach in physics GenEd classes are more topic-specific classes: studying the physics of some specific area, such as light and vision, or sound and music (though the latter has ended up being very mathematical in its current incarnation).
That view of things makes the analogy I suggested work better in my mind than for people who are thinking of a very different sort of class. When I talk about taking math out of these classes, it's more like asking a humanities professor to remove all theory references from a class on their area of specialization, than stripping them out of an intro survey class.
On a more general level, though, the discussion has drifted a little in a direction that I didn't really intend. This is probably inevitable with any argument by analogy-- eventually, you find yourself arguing about the analogy, rather than using it as a sort of gedankenexperiment to illuminate whatever it is you were supposed to be talking about.
Anyway, the point of the analogy is not that there's a strict one-to-one correspondance between mathematical skills and critical theory, and I don't really want to attempt to stretch it very far. It's intended merely as an exercise to get people to think a little bit about the unequal treatment of math/science and humanities skills in education, and in how we think and talk about the process of education. I find that I'm really bothered by the way that science and math topics are sort of casually dismissed in a lot of the discussions we've had about what we should expect students to learn and know, and I think that a lot of humanities types don't see that as a serious problem. The analogy is intended as a way to make those people think about the treatment of different disciplines, by casting it in more familiar terms.
And that brings us around to Devin Ganger's comment, which sneaked in while I was writing a comment of my own, but deserves greater prominence:
I think that a large portion of the problem you're talking about is introduced years before college. Most public primary education (at least in the U.S.) does not give the same weight to math that it does to humanities.
[...]
Look at the science courses in grade school. No quantitative treatments whatsoever; it's all about bugs and dinosaurs and *humanities-based* approaches to the topic. If they were teaching the basic levels of math and reinforcing them in their science classes at this level, the vast majority of kids who went to college would be ready for intro science classes that actually had some real math in them.
I definitely agree that the problem goes beyond the college years, and I suspect that Devin may be on to something here. The attitude toward science that troubles me extends well beyond the academy (though I find its existence in academia particularly troubling).
The fundamental problem here is that, as a society, we tend to view science as something obscure and difficult and mysterious, the exclusive province of really smart people (read: nerds). And that's wrong-- real science is not a collection of facts and figures, but a mindset and a systematic approach to the world. Birds and chimpanzees manage it without the benefit of any education at all, so it should never be beyond the capabilities of any functioning human being. And yet, we insist on treating math and science (which are inextricably linked) as something especially difficult and almost alien.
Again, if someone reads only with difficulty, that's considered a serious disability, and we scurry around to make accomodations. If someone adds only with difficulty, people laugh it off. Math, after all, is Hard. I know, because Barbie told me.
I'm not ready to elevate innumeracy above illiteracy as an educational crisis-- reading is still more important than math-- but treating it as totally insignificant is deeply wrong. No educated person should have a fear of math or science, and yet there are thousands of people with college degrees who will happily brag about how they managed to avoid taking any classes requiring more than addition. That's just wrong.
Devin is right that the problem starts much earlier than college. I'm talking about it at the college level, because that's where I encounter it in my daily life, but real reform would have to start earlier. I'm not sure I'd be willing to be the one teaching algebra to nine-year-olds, but it may be an idea that's worth talking about.
Posted at 8:18 AM | link | follow-ups | [ hide comments ]
I am not sure whether the rest of this comment is actually germane, but here it is: Should everyone be required to take a physics/chemistry/biology/other introductory sequence that is intended for even majors in that area? In other words, should Physics I for poets require as much math as Physics I for physics majors? The only difference would be that after Physics I and II, the English Lit major goes off into lit courses and the physics major continues physics courses. I am not opposed to that approach in the ideal university (atually I am very much in favor of that if a university intends to produce truly educated graduates), but I wonder whether it would work in the real university. I tend to be more pragmatic. I see a scientifically illiterate country where nonsense like intelligent design and astrology are considered serious topics. Would a nonmathematical familiarity with the "mindset and ... systematic approach to the world" of science be useful in remedying that?
I think the first battles in this war should be fought in the K-12 theater of operations. If it could be won there, you could expect entering freshmen to be prepared for Physics I and II. Instead, the university must either allow people to graduate without a complete education, or spend time teaching freshmen what they should have learned in high school. Despite my desire for an educated citizenry, I think we might consider splitting public education into academic and trade preparation. I doubt that will ever happen, since that would be considered non-egalitarian.
Mark Paris, 02.09.2005, 10:11am [link]
I think Science and Math face an uphill battle, here, largely because our society (and perhaps any society due to the nature of the concept) is structured in such a way that it is quite visibly possible to be materially successful with adept communication skills but little to no math & science skill. Notice the mention of visibility...those who are made successful through their communication skills are much more likely to be well known by simple virtue of those same skills. Meanwhile, people often become successful based on math & science skills...but you don't tend to hear about it as often, and a good argument could be made that greater success would be achieved by those same individuals if their communication skills were enhanced.
I think people consistently underrate the actual communications skills of a lot of scientists. Most of the best scientists out there are actually very good at communicating their ideas. There are exceptions, but it's hard to be recognized as one of the best scientists in the world without being able to communicate your ideas.
A lot of the problem is that communication is a two-way process-- the person who has the neat ideas has to want to share them, but at the same time, other peopel need to want to hear about them. I think a lot of the breakdown is on the other end-- it's not so much that scientists can't communicate, as that many people aren't interested in hearing what they have to say.
Mark Paris:
I am still not certain exactly what situation you would like to see remedied. Is it the treatment of science vs liberal arts in the university, or is it the general problem of scientifically illiterate college graduates? (I know they are related.)
I'm not surprised that you're not clear about what I want done, as I'm not entirely clear on it myself. It's a tough problem, and to a large degree, I'm just venting (or, alternately, just throwing ideas out to see what sticks).
Part of the problem is that there's a big difference between what I want to see happen, and what I think I can do anything about. What I would like to see happen is for science and math to get more respect, or at least less demonization, in society as a whole. The only area of that where I think I can have any immediate influence, however insignficant, is in my little corner of higher education, where I'd like to get people to think about the ways that science and humanities skills are treated.
I think the stakes here are higher than anyone realizes-- the current political situation in the US owes a lot to the innumeracy of the public at large-- but it's a hard sell. As well as a topic for another post somewhere down the road.
Chad Orzel, 02.09.2005, 10:30am [link]
But it isn't true. Math doesn't come naturally. We (as a species) had language - a written language, literature, the whole shebang - before we had calculus, complex numbers, negative numbers, or even zero.
------------
On a different note, I have to ask, what does this mean:
real science is not a collection of facts and figures, but a mindset and a systematic approach to the world. Birds and chimpanzees manage it without the benefit of any education at all
Birds and chimps do science? That's a pretty dramatic claim - if that is your claim.
Or are you just saying that birds and chimps have a systematic approach to the world? Because I think even the science-phobic humans have a systematic approach to the world. That's a pretty low bar. (Consider: new age rystal power and auras, astrology, alchemy, ancient astronauts and UFO conspiracies, the Raelians - these are systematic approaches, but these aren't science!!)
tim, 02.09.2005, 10:32am [link]
I have a class in fifteen minutes, so my disagreement with this will need to wait for a later time.
Birds and chimps do science? That's a pretty dramatic claim - if that is your claim.
That was meant to include a link to one of the many stories about tool-using birds and chimps that have popped up in recent years, but I was in a hurry, and forgot to add it.
Or are you just saying that birds and chimps have a systematic approach to the world? Because I think even the science-phobic humans have a systematic approach to the world. That's a pretty low bar. (Consider: new age rystal power and auras, astrology, alchemy, ancient astronauts and UFO conspiracies, the Raelians - these are systematic approaches, but these aren't science!!)
I disagree with a lot of this as well, but again, class beckons.
Chad Orzel, 02.09.2005, 10:37am [link]
To add context without excessive quoting, I believe Devin, and then you, were referring to the "birds and dinosaurs" approach of science in grade school, an argument with which I tentatively agree.
It's been a long time since grade school, but I remember it being mostly that way, with one excursion into something approximating some interesting chemistry in eighth grade. I suspect the science teacher that year actually had some chemistry training. She also made some good attempts at impressing the scientific method on to us.
The question is, though, if Real Science can't be done without some Real Math (or at least some real technical skill at math) at what level do we begin teaching real tchnical math? When I think of doing even high school physics, I immediately think of vectors, of serious algebra, and of calculus.
If the answer to the problem is reform of the lower level curricula, then the new problem is, which reforms? What's necessary to get kids capable of doing interesting technical physics (by which I mean, working non-trivial problems) by junior year of high school?
Novak, 02.09.2005, 11:19am [link]
I don't think that conflicts with what I was saying. "The best scientists in the world" would, I would think, be more likely to be those whom I implied had greater success because of the combination of science skills with communication skills. But there *are* a good number of scientists out there who could easily be considered successful as scientists but have (sometimes dramatically) stunted communication skills, and these gents tend to be less well known.
I'm not saying that renown is the best guage of success, I'm saying that it's (in some ways) the most obvious one, and one that people often seek for their children, students, and selves, and thus a bias towards humanities (which are based on communication) may be inevitable.
Get them doing math (and science) at an early enough age that they haven't learned it's hard and scary. An example, again with my kids: I became interested in a physics-based 3-D space combat wargame (Attack Vector: Tactical from Ad Astra Games). Now, Ken did a ton of work on the game to keep the physics real but reduce the complexity of the math down to something you can handle in a game without needing a computer, but the results are still more complex than your average board game. My kids, however, watched me playing through the introductory scenario and demanded to play too. So now they're learning about momentum and vectors -- and having fun doing it.
If elementary math started off teaching kids the number line, substituting sign rules instead of addition/subtraction, the kids would have a good theoretical basis for handling vectors in another couple of years. It is not any harder for them to learn in the beginning and it short-circuits years of crap that they end up having to re-learn when they hit pre-algebra.
Devin L. Ganger, 02.09.2005, 3:56pm [link]
But on the contrary, I think it's the humanities that is demonized in society as a whole. The sheer intellectual contempt in which humanistic learning is held, from MLA slag-fest articles to Dan Quayle sneering at the "cultural elite", was wonderfully explored by Richard Hofstadter, who pointed out how connected it is with anti-leftism. I do think part of the (mis)appropriation of physics vocab in critical theory is precisely a response to the wide-ranging disrespect for the humanities. And can I say that the last two threads prove my point in bucketloads?
I'm all for better scientific education, better humanistic education, hands across the two cultures and scientists who talk more sensibly about poetry (!), but I wonder if many people in the humanities (and I'm not, I guess I should say right now) would recognize your characterization. Perhaps a topic for cross-blog, cross-discipline discussion.
drapeto, 02.10.2005, 8:17am [link]
bgj, 02.10.2005, 11:53am [link]
I disagree. Properly taught, math - especially math used in science - is just common sense wrapped up in a little extra formalism. See below.
Devin Ganger: "Look at the science courses in grade school. No quantitative treatments whatsoever; it's all about bugs and dinosaurs and *humanities-based* approaches to the topic."
Maybe we should be teaching grade-school kids how to do Fermi problems. They're easy - just basic arithmetic, really - but they can give you very valuable insight into how the world works and help connect mathematics with common sense. It's even useful in the real world, since a person who can do Fermi problems can more easily spot outlandish and fraudulent numerical claims.
This raises the biggest complaint I had with my students when I was a physics lab TA - most of them weren't aware that math and common sense could exist in the same universe, let alone be complementary to each other. They'd do a lab that's designed to measure the distance to an object on the other side of the room by using parallax or something, get an answer of 34.2 meters, and circle it without ever thinking that maybe they should doubt that answer. Not a single one of them ever thought of doing dimensional analysis either, which is a pretty common-sense sort of thing, IMHO.
And this is why I disagree with tim. Math isn't unnatural for humans - we do primitive set theory and graph theory and even sort of half-assed calculus all the time in the guise of common sense, logical thinking, and handwaving guesses. What needs to happen is that students need to be introduced to math not as some sort of alternate reality with no bearing on our own, but shown that it really is a sort of extra-rigorous form of common sense.
Alex Elliott, 02.10.2005, 6:01pm [link]
Skwid: "The best scientists in the world" would, I would think, be more likely to be those whom I implied had greater success because of the combination of science skills with communication skills. But there *are* a good number of scientists out there who could easily be considered successful as scientists but have (sometimes dramatically) stunted communication skills, and these gents tend to be less well known.
True. But my point is that even the ones with very good communications skills tend not to be well known. And I think that's because the public at large has very little interest in hearing about science. You get the occasional fluke bestseller from a prominent scientist, but for the most part, nobody cares.
bgj: I must confess, as someone who has taught freshman calculus and physics, that I think the math is the easy part. In my experience a greater proportion of the students acquire the basic math skills at a higher level than attain basic physics skills. I hate to intimate any bias here, but I think it's because the physics requires both the math and, horrors, thinking.
There's something to that. As I keep telling my students, the math we do in introductory physics is mostly trivial-- addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. There's barely any calculus in the class as we do it.
The hard part is understanding how to set up the problems. Once you've got that, the math is easy.
Alex: And this is why I disagree with tim. Math isn't unnatural for humans - we do primitive set theory and graph theory and even sort of half-assed calculus all the time in the guise of common sense, logical thinking, and handwaving guesses. What needs to happen is that students need to be introduced to math not as some sort of alternate reality with no bearing on our own, but shown that it really is a sort of extra-rigorous form of common sense.
That's pretty much what I was going to say in response to tim. Thanks.
Fianlly, drapeto:
But on the contrary, I think it's the humanities that is demonized in society as a whole.
"Demonization" was a bit of an exaggeration. As I said, I was typing quickly, just before class.
The sheer intellectual contempt in which humanistic learning is held, from MLA slag-fest articles to Dan Quayle sneering at the "cultural elite", was wonderfully explored by Richard Hofstadter, who pointed out how connected it is with anti-leftism. I do think part of the (mis)appropriation of physics vocab in critical theory is precisely a response to the wide-ranging disrespect for the humanities. And can I say that the last two threads prove my point in bucketloads?
You can say anything you like, but you should bear in mind that the commenters here do not constitute a representative sample of much of anything, really.
You might also want to unpack the penultimate sentence a little, if you get a chance.
I'm all for better scientific education, better humanistic education, hands across the two cultures and scientists who talk more sensibly about poetry (!), but I wonder if many people in the humanities (and I'm not, I guess I should say right now) would recognize your characterization. Perhaps a topic for cross-blog, cross-discipline discussion.
That would be great, and that's part of why I posted this here. I'd love to get more people talking about this stuff.
If nothing else, the fact that you feel I've gotten a dramatically wrong impression of the humanities (which, again, is based on my long-ago liberal arts education, and conversations with colleagues from the other side of campus) suggests that there's some serious miscommunication going on, which might be interesting to explore.
Chad Orzel, 02.10.2005, 6:47pm [link]
Really, though, even current "real" science courses don't always do a good job of this.
Mike Bruce, 02.10.2005, 8:41pm [link]
May the deity (or similar concept, where applicable, void in Utah) of your choice gift mercy upon you.
Chad: That's pretty much what I was going to say in response to tim.
I hope that wasn't all you were going to say in response! Cause I'm itching to respond to your suggestion that even birds and apes do science. Using a twig to extract ants and termites is not exactly science, but I don't want to mischaracterize your argument, so I'm waiting for elaboration.
As to Alex and his comments - the point is not that math is "unnatural" (despite my poor choice of words). The point is that math skills and language skills are learned differently. Every child, if nothing is wrong with his or her brain, will develop (verbal) language, even in the absence of direct instruction. They will just absorb it from the environment. No child will ever just intuit calculus. Calculus is not common sense, even if it is true. People *still* have trouble with Zeno's paradox.
If you'd rather, look at it historically. The origins of language are lost in the mists of history. But the Ancient Greeks, who had a sophisticated language, literature, philosophy, and politics - and even had a sophisticated geometry - did not have calculus. The Romans, for all their technological sophistication (they certainly out performed birds and apes in tool use!), didn't have complex numbers. (Or negative numbers, for that matter.) And, of course, not that many of us even now daydream proofs of algebraic topology, let alone *follow* proofs of algebraic topology...even if we can do calculus with both hands tied behind our backs.
There is a big difference between something being true or straightforward and something being intuitive. Language comes intuitively. Mathematics does not. That's just how the brain works.
Furthermore, to Alex's specific argument, humans are notoriously *bad* at logical thinking. Logical thinking, too, has to be carefully learned. We are very susceptible to the logical fallacies. We are very bad at statistical reasoning. Look at the popularity of gambling and lotteries, our ability to do risk assessment, the popularity of Rush Limbaugh. Common sense is not so common - and common sense, for that matter, isn't science or math. Common sense is (to borrow the metaphor) the pigeon dance ("everyone knows it works to do this....").
I'm not saying that people can't be trained to approach things logically, to understand probability, to do calculus. I'm saying that you can not expect them to learn mathematics or have a mathematical facility similar to the way they learn language or have a facility with language.
And I'm especially not saying that people shouldn't be trained to be better at math and logic.
I'm saying that these differences are at the root of the problem in getting everyone to be "scientifically literate."
-----------------------------------
I'll bet, despite all of the digressions (because this sentence will have some -- it needs to, to make the point), there isn't anyone on this list, or anyone in general, I should say, not just the people on this list (assuming english is their native language, and probably many for whom it is a second language), who won't understand this sentence (for all its self-reflexivity) just reading it through once (maybe twice).
On the other hand, and just using logic (to avoid questions about the specialized vocabulary of mathematics), I'll bet it's not true that the same people can solve the following just by reading it through. I'll bet (even though it isn't hard) you all have to figure.
Mary had lunch with Jane and a friend. Mary was a vegetarian. The woman in Green had Fish. Beth, not in Yellow, didn't have Salad. Jane, not in Pink, didn't have Chicken. What was the color of Mary's dress?
tim, 02.11.2005, 2:06pm [link]
I assume that drapeto (whom I wanted to call "dr. pareto") is referring to such things as the Sokal hoax and the more general tendancy of theorists to rip ideas out of mathematics and physics and do some damage to them -- Derrida, perhaps, but the feminist philosopher Luce Irigaray's famous essay on topology probably provdes a better example. Everyone likes to misapply Schrodinger and Godel to just about everything. I've read suggestions, and drapeto seems to agree, that one of the reasons for this is an attempt to make what are essentially philosophical arguments feel more like science. I believe that was Sokal's suggestion, in the end: it's not that his targets (particularly Lacan, if I recall correctly) were opposed to the idea of rationalist thought, as some conservatives had posited, but that they loved science and the rhetoric of science not wisely but to well.
On the other hand, journalists and non-academic pundits (like our friend Mr. Easterbrook!) do it too. There's no metaphor so seductive and pliable as a really cool half-grasped idea.
At the university down the street (quite reputable), the Mathematics, Physics, and English (and 'Humanities') departments all fall under the same organizational umbrella. It's the Computer Science department and various Engineering departments (all at their own School) that are distinct within the "Sciences". So undergraduates with majors in Physics, Womens Studies, Sociology, Mathematics, Chemistry, Sociology, &etc. all have the same non-core course requirements outside their core area before they earn their degree. A kid with a BS in Physics minus his Physics courses is indistinguishable from a kid with a BA in Womens Lit minus his English courses, at least on paper. So pardon the pun, but as the issue is presented the problem is purely academic.
Of course the SAT II will do away with the SAT I's equal division into math and english sections... a different debate. Still, it's hard to see how the mathematics portion of the SAT is particularly related to testing a students grasp of experimental science.
I suspect that the term, "mathematics" is being used in relation to "science" in a casual and broad sense, rather than a literal one. If so, isn't there some merit in asking if this convention itself isn't hurting the cause of the advancement of science? The methodology of empirical science is explicitly NOT that used in mathematical demonstration (proof), yet no one seems to bother asking if the ideal training for the former is a quasi-religious indoctrination in the latter.
Devin gives a good case supporting a review of how mathematics is taught, but provides no reasoning to defend the assumption that students with a greater familiarity with higher mathematics are necessarily better prepared to study science in general later. Frankly Chad, if you spent less time sniping at Aristotles Physics and more time reading his Analytics, you'd avoid falling for this type of mundane syllogistic fallacy.
While I'd agree that there's merit to the suggestion that there should be more mathematics included in k-12 scientific programs, without first establishing an acceptable minimum course of education in rudimentary Logic this would be a waste of resources, and more likely to create a surplus of academic mathematicians than fill the demand for professional scientists.
A Scott Crawford, 02.17.2005, 11:11am [link]
But as for formal mathematics, I don't think it comes so naturally. People don't sit memorizing their first language, but kids have to memorize their times tables. I did reasonably well at understanding things like music theory and some (non-formal) logic, philosophy courses, things like that. I was always good at "getting" concepts in physics class, even if I ganked on the math sometimes.
But the thing is, (a) I learned to think critically about what I'm told, and (b) I learned to listen to a range of experts on a subject when I determined I was not an expert on that subject myself.
I don't think people on the whole need to become much more numerate, but they do need to learn when to recognize that they know nothing about a topic, and get used to the idea of listening to experts debate about things, and those experts occasionally need to reframe the argument in such a way as to help those listening.
As a lit major I would never argue that people need to learn more critical theory, because, oh my god, their understanding of literature sucks! But I would point out that critical thinking courses would be very useful in helping them in all kinds of areas.
Personally, though, I wish I were more numerate. But I've tried and tried and gotten nowhere, and I think I've finally given up... for now, at least.
gordsellar, 03.09.2005, 8:39am [link]
COMMENTS ARE CLOSED.
Please visit Uncertain Principles' new location at ScienceBlogs to comment.
Poetry for Physicists
The comments to my post about making physics more attractive raised the issue of science courses for non-majors, and how to make them more interesting. We're currently in the process of considering revisions to the General Education curriculum at work, so this is a topic that's been on my mind a lot.
I find that I'm deeply ambivalent about GenEd science classes (here defined as anything aimed primarily at non-science majors, from the "Physics for Poets" conceptual survey classes to more narrowly defined classes that treat a single topic in a conceptual manner). On the one hand, I do believe, as I said earlier, that reaching out to the general public, and trying to make science more accessible is an important thing to do. It's part of why I started this blog, and part of why I have the job that I do. I sought work at a liberal arts college that emphasizes teaching as well as research because I think that teaching physics is at least as important as pushing the frontiers of research.
The problem is, I'm bothered by the whole concept of GenEd science classes, which, in physics at least, generally means science without math. On some level, I think these classes perpetuate the very problem they're meant to address-- they reinforce the impression that Science is mysterious and arcane, and beyond the ability of the average citizen. Only super-smart nerds take "real" science classes, while English majors need special dumbed-down versions in order to understand anything.
I've often joked that to balance things out, we ought to have a "Poetry for Physicists" class, studying only simple poems that rhyme, and have straightforward interpretations. Lots of Robert Frost, and that sort of thing. If you want to get really daring, you could maybe do some William Carlos Williams in the last week or so, but it wouldn't be on the exam. If we're going to make special accomodations for math-phobic English majors, then surely we can do something to make life easy for the emotionally stunted science nerds.
I'm exaggerating, of course-- there's no real reason why science nerds can't handle regular literature classes. Sean Carroll provides proof, posting the occasional poem, and talking sensibly about poetry.
But I do think there is an imbalance here, and it bothers me. If a student were to come in and say "You know, I just can't handle literature classes. I'm no good at reading, and I'm not comfortable with it, so I don't want to take any English classes," most faculty would think that there's something wrong with that person. And yet, I hear functionally equivalent statements about math every time I bring this subject up. Bright people will say "I think science is really neat, but I just can't handle math," and see nothing wrong with that.
If a student professed a distaste for reading as frankly as some express their distaste for math, we'd think that they were intellectually stunted. Illiteracy is a sign of a learning disability, while innumeracy is shrugged off as just one of those things. And that really bothers me, because at its most basic level, science is mathematical, and I don't think it's really beyond the capabilities of the average person (I don't even think of myself as particularly good at math, to be honest).
Dave Munger's qualified defense of literary theory points to another possible definition of a "Poetry for Physicists" class, and one that I think may prove useful in future discussions with people from the other side of campus. He notes, correctly, that:
[C]ontemporary literature study demands an understanding of critical theory, not just close reading. You won’t get anywhere in grad school – let alone as a professor – without an ability to apply critical theory.
I tend to agree with that statement, at least based on my conversations with faculty in the humanities. And that's the key to what "Poetry for Physicists" would be: literature without critical theory. No Marxism, no feminism, no post-anything-ism: just the course recommended by Salman Rushdie (as quoted by Dave): "Rushdie thinks students should be taught to simply read texts, 'one sentence after another,' and afterwards, to 'try to piece together what those sentences mean.'"
You could argue that this would be doing a disservice to students, that it is impossible to claim to have a meaningful understanding of modern literary scholarship without having at least some acquaintance with critical theory. And you'd be right. But that's exactly the sort of class that scientists are regularly asked to provide. At least in physics, it is impossible to claim to have a meaningful understanding of the subject without using mathematics. It's extremely difficult to even provide a rough and qualitative idea of the subject without some math.
You could also argue that humanities departments already have to do this sort of thing, in their introductory classes. I can't really say what they're doing in introductory classes these days (or even back in my day-- I tested out of English 101, and met my humanities requirements by being buried under an avalanche of critical theory in 400-level classes), but I'm skeptical. At a meeting last year, a colleague in the humanities suggested, to many approving nods, that every freshman at the college should be required to read The Theory Toolbox by Jeffrey Nealon and Susan Searls Giroux. I haven't read it, but you can get some idea from the table of contents, and the one-sentence summary: "A textbook for an undergraduate course introducing theory anywhere but the natural sciences." If they think that every freshmman should read that, they probably want critical theory in the intro classes.
But try to imagine the response if a scientist were to suggest that all freshmen be required to read Div, Grad, Curl, and All That: An Informal Text on Vector Calculus. I can't see my colleagues going for that, even though it would be precisely as useful to their students as The Theory Toolbox would be to mine (and potentially as useful to my students as The Theory Toolbox is to theirs).
So, am I suggesting that we eliminate all GenEd science classes, and force everybody to suffer through calculus-based introductory physics? No. That would do more harm than good-- too many students already view science as a miserable slog.
I would, however, like for people in the humanities to have a greater appreciation of exactly what's being asked of science departments when it comes to GenEd classes. Separating the math from science classes in order to accomodate humanities majors with a fear of equations is not a trivial task, and is pretty much comparable to trying to discuss modern literary scholarship without any reference to theory. I don't think people really understand what's involved, here, and thinking about "Poetry for Physicists" is an exercise that might help make it clearer.
(You could also argue, as Dave Munger does, that some theory-free non-major literature classes would be in the best interests of English departments. I think I probably agree with that, for the same reason that quality GenEd classes are in the best interests of science departments, but this is way too long already. Also, this whole post can easily be modified to apply to disciplines other than literature (I don't really mean to just pick on literature professors), but that will have to be left as an exercise for the reader.)
(Of course, I'm ranting to the wrong people here, based on what I know of my readership, which seems to be mostly sci-tech types. I should probably strip out the bloggy references, and send it to the Chronicle of Higher Education. In my copious free time.)
Posted at 8:28 AM | link | follow-ups | 42 comments
Sports Questions
Tonight's Super Bowl has made Kate a happy Kate, but raises a few interesting questions:
1) The Patriots have won three Super Bowls in four years, by a total of nine points. Has there ever been another sports dynasty founded on just barely squeaking through every championship game they played?
2) Donovan McNabb always made it look remarkably easy to play quarterback when he was at Syracuse. He'd sort of stroll up to the line, wave casually at his linemen and receivers, and take the snap just as the play clock expired. He kind of got carried away with the whole "look casual" thing tonight, though. What was up with that? That had to be just about the worst clock management I've ever seen.
3) Do they have gigantic chemical plants in Jacksonville pumping idiot gas into the air, or something? Or was everybody involved with the post-game show just drunk? Actually, this might provide the answer to #2, as well.
Game commentary: The MVP apparently went to Deion Branch, though you could barely tell from the rushed trophy presentation. It should've gone to Terrell Owens, even though he is a dick, and his team did lose. He was about the best thing the Eagles had going. Or, if you wanted to give it to somebody on the winning team, Rodney Harrison. But defensive players get no love when you let idiots with cell phones do most of the voting.
Halftime commentary: I left it on while I made dinner (Kate was walking the dog), and Paul McCartney was competently boring. But hey, at least he didn't embarass himself by trying to seem relevant-- he came out, played a bunch of Beatles tunes, and got out of the way. That's what you want in a halftime show: not actively irritating to watch, but nothing you'll be sorry to miss if you need to go flip the burgers.
Posted at 10:40 PM | link | follow-ups | 4 comments
Many Fauceted Scarlet Emerald
Aaron Bergman made a comment a little while ago referring to "Gevers-like levels of bad writing." I didn't immediately realize what he meant, as I usually skim Nick Gevers's short fiction reviews in Locus (I don't read any of the SF magazines, so I never really see any of the stories he talks about). Their "Recommended Reading" list issue includes "year in review" pieces from all of their reviewers, and his is, as they say, a doozy, including this monster sentence:
I was enormously impressed with Sean McMullen's Glass Dragons, second in the Moonworlds series, a ruthless, audacious incursion of outlaw Australian humor and martial-arts farce into the territory of High Fantasy, where preposterous hierarchies, unchivalrous aristocrats, and bumbling sorcerous conspiracies were little match, in the end, for the author's coterie of cunning, conflicted, picaresque warriors; with a whimsical savage authority, McMullen is making the niche once occupied by L. Sprague de Camp and Jack Vance his own.
Wow. That's all I can say: wow.
Other gems include:
decorous yet transgressive
an entire nest of uchronias
dazzling metaphysical choreography
penetratingly precise prose
desiccated mutant future
and, finally, Luciius Shepard's Trujillo is evidently:
[A] massive, brooding volume of novellas which anatomized the human present in terms fuliginous, hallucinated, ferociously moral.
(I've deleted a parenthetical remark at the end of the sentence, but that's it. I think it's missing an "and," or something, but that's not my fault.)
Now, I can't really lay claim to much of the Moral High Ground on the subject of adjective abuse, but this is really an amazing piece of work. It's rare to find a noun modified by fewer than two adjectives or adverbs, and those few that are relatively unadorned are usually buried in the middle of huge tangles of clauses.
I am speechless. And now, I really must stop reading this.
Posted at 1:40 PM | link | follow-ups | no comments
One of These Things Is Not Like The Others
This year will mark the fifth time that Kate and I have gone to Boskone, and she suggested that I should volunteer to do some science-type panels. So I did, and sent them some information about what I do, and what sorts of things I read.
I got email last night with the very preliminary list of panels that I'll be on (I'll post more specifics when the final version is available), including this one:
Sun10:00 am: The Joy of Space Opera
David G. Hartwell
Chad Orzel
Frederik Pohl
Allen M. Steele
Jack Williamson must be busy that day.
Posted at 1:26 PM | link | follow-ups | no comments
I think you have, right there, much of the rationale that led to the modern, humanities focused education system.
BTW, I think your new analogy is probably significantly better than the original, but still faces a tricky issue that didn't occur to me until I spoke to my wife (who's currently in a Lit. Grad. program) about it. Basically, there's a significant portion of Lit people who feel that "theory," as a tool used for analyzing and/or deconstructing a text, can sometimes be a crutch more than it is a lever. That it can act as an aid to break down and dig deeper into a work's sub- and metatextual components for those who don't just "get it." By that school of thinking, critical theory's exactly what you should be teaching in your hypothetical "Poetry for Physicists" course...
Skwid, 02.09.2005, 9:50am [link]