Showing posts with label research. Show all posts
Showing posts with label research. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Needing "school math" without using it

I was thinking about my previous posts about the UW College of Education's (CoE's) recent political polemic about so-called reform math. One of their major points is that engineers don't use what they call "school math": they just use computers. Please allow me to outline my own work, which is highly compute intensive and rarely involves what they would call school math, but which nevertheless I could not do without a healthy dose of school math -- not just in my education, but also in my work.

My research is in the area of computational neuroscience, in which I build mathematical models of individual nerve cells (neuron)s and groups of neurons, develop simulation software for single computers and clusters of computers, and analyze data from simulations and also from experiments on actual living tissue. This sort of work is very much like that done by anyone simulating physical systems, be they biological, chemical, mechanical, electrical, etc.

Like the engineers described in the CoE's publication, my work is heavily computational, as it isn't feasible to do this work with pencil and paper, as in "school math". The basics of the mathematical models involve a number of differential equations: equations that describe how some part of the system changes in response to other parts of the system. Now, it turns out that differential equations is covered by a pretty much standard college sophomore mathematics course. So, why isn't the stuff I do "school math"? It's simple:

  1. We only cover the mast basic type of differential equations in that class, linear equations. These are actually quite good for describing simple systems: electrical circuits made up of resistors and capacitors, mechanical systems with springs, etc. The advantage of these equations is that we can solve them on paper and they're easy to learn. The disadvantage is that they aren't very good descriptions of complicated systems like neurons (and many other, nonlinear systems). Once we move to nonlinear systems, we almost certainly need to use computers to do numerical simulations.
  2. We mostly just solve single equations in that class (there are other classes where we learn to solve groups of differential equations, later on in the curriculum). The systems I'm interested in can have hundreds or thousands of differential equations, and so I have no choice but use computer simulation.

If you were to watch me work, you would see the following (between the long periods of time in meetings, in class, preparing for said things): I decide on a question I'd like to answer, such as how the behavior of a network of neurons changes as some parameter (think: "tuning knob") is changed. I set up the parameters for a simulation or maybe bunch of simulations and, anytime from a few minutes to a few days later, I have some results. I load those results into MATLAB (numerical mathematics software) and plot the results. I then either exclaim, "Wow!", and hurriedly start writing a summary and thinking of what else I need to do to finish telling the story for a publication (rare), or I say, "Nuts!" and think again why the system either displays uninteresting behavior (Who knows; maybe its lack of interest is in itself something noteworthy? Or is that just wishful thinking?) or doesn't behave like the living nervous system. So, the observer sees that I don't "do" "school math". End of story?

Well, not quite. Because the observer doesn't see what's going on "behind the scenes" (i.e., in my mind). First of all, I would have no hope of even being able to start understanding what simulations I need to run without a very firm and extensive "school math" background. For instance, I work with a number of bright undergraduate students in my research. Some of them have math backgrounds that include differential equations and beyond and some don't. This has nothing to do with how smart they are; math beyond calculus isn't required for computer science and so only those students who come to us via a "nonstandard" pathway (e.g., changed major, previous degree/career) will have the more advanced math. Though all of these students can help out in my research, only those with more advanced "school math" are able to understand the underlying mathematical model well enough to mess with that aspect of the project (unless I teach a student some of the required "school math"). After all, unless you want to resort to randomly poking something just to see what it does, you really have to understand what's going on inside it; that's the only way you can intelligently select what kind of "poking" is likely to tell you something interesting. In fact, it's the only way you can begin to ask questions about the system, let alone start formulating experiments to answer those questions.

Even after the simulations are over, I still need to interpret the results, and this requires yet more "school math" running around in my head. What kind of result did I get? What relationship does it have to previous results I've gotten, or for that matter, results others may have gotten? What does this result mean in the overall context of the system in question and the thinks I'd like to know about it/do with it? And so on.

In other words, it is emphatically not the case that the computer has relieved me of the need to know math. All the computer has done is take over the grunt work: it has become an additional tool in my mathematical arsenal. But the computer can't think, and that thinking is where all the "school math" is. It just isn't apparent to the observer because I know it well enough that it happens in my brain automatically. This is no different than the automaticity with grammar that we use in everyday life. Just because we don't carefully label each of our utterances with "subject", "verb", "object" doesn't mean that grammar isn't necessary.

Finally, does this apply to "everyday" engineers, or just people doing research? Of course it applies to engineers (at least those who haven't "moved up" to management)! That's why businesses hire engineers: they need people who can think about solutions to problems and have the depth of background to understand the interrelationships among parts of solutions from "first principles" on up to final product. Some tasks may become routine and thus almost automatic or thoughtless, but its important to have someone who can look at a problem (or a solution proposed by some software) and say, "Wait a minute; something's fishy here." And, in the final analysis, that's the most important contribution of "school math": it is the language of creativity.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Coming back up for air

I'm always impressed by people who can go to conferences and blog about their experiences during the conference. I typically find myself struggling to fit all of the conference-related activities into each day. And then there are the conferences with long travel times (20+ hours to Montevideo, Uruguay, for example) and jet lag to contend with, during which I consume mass quantities of coffee in a sometimes vain attempt to stave off narcolepsy (despite the fact that I'm not much of a coffee drinker). Maybe next time I'll take a bunch of decongestant, instead.

Presentations, be they oral or poster, are always curious things. Oral presentations are often a complete waste of time. My understanding is that, once upon a time, oral presentations at scientific meetings involved people reading their papers to the audience. While, on the surface, this might sound dreadful, upon further reflection I think this is a better approach. For one thing, this would greatly reduce the number of oral presentations. For another, it could (note the conditional) engender more discussion among the participants. Right now, presenters try to make their points in a few slides and questions are basically at the end. There's no time for serious questions, clarifications, or the like, so questions tend to be of the "got ya!" or the "let me tell you about what I've done that may relate to this" varieties. And those are the good talks -- the bad ones are those that are incomprehensible or those in which the presenter hasn't confined him or herself to a few slides and everyone is at the mercy of the session Chair's ability to cut the speaker off so that they can make the next coffee break in time.

Posters are sometimes better, but they unfortunately try to serve two purposes. One purpose is to provide a forum for more embryonic work, often that of students. The other is as a "booby prize" for submissions for which oral presentation wasn't justifiable but which were still above the "ramblings of a crackpot" cutoff used for rejections. So, one's first task is to find those posters that one is interested in and then locate the author (who may or may not be there at the moment). If you're lucky and do both of those, odds are the author is in the middle of talking to someone else and then you have to decide if you want to listen to the last five minutes of that conversation, trying to understand what they're talking about, before you finally ask the author to essentially repeat the whole conversation with you.

So, what's good about conferences? They're basically the only place I can go where I can meet and talk to people who are interested in the same things I'm interested in, research-wise. I can have research for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and late-night drinks. I can sometimes make contact with future collaborators. I can get ideas for the next thing I'd like to do. I can be re-energized to continue to find ways to carve out space for research in a life with plenty of family, administrative, teaching, and service demands.

I'd like to run a conference in which oral presentations are done in a more old-fashioned way, where papers are read and discussed in a seminar format. That way, we could all go through each other's research with a fine-tooth comb. What a frightening prospect! Anyway, back to seeing if I can bring the number of unread emails in my inbox below 50.

Monday, April 02, 2007

Neuroschool 2007

This looks like an interesting experience for students interested in between experiment and theory in neuroscience.

Monday, December 11, 2006

Two sites suffice

After a week of my musings on interdisciplinarity producing no Google hits for the term "exodisciplinarity", this post on my blog produced immediate results. "Exodisciplinarity" now produces a single hit on Google. (Of course, I understand that their algorithm is more sophisticated than that.)

I wonder what that implies for monetizing this blog?

Sunday, December 10, 2006

A pointless experiment

I got curious about how little "significance" a web page can have and still get indexed by Google. In this case, I merely defining significance as being number of links to that page. So, I wrote a few thoughts about interdisciplinarity in my academic web a week ago, noting that the term "exodisciplinarity" returns no Google hits. The only link to that page is from my home page. A week later, still no hits for "exodisciplinarity". So let's see if the link (and mention of the term) in this blog post, being on another web site, will suffice.

And, in case you think the term is silly, do you really think that "pluridisciplinarity" merits 821 hits?