Anna Koop

So I’m in Portland for Sock Summit, the epic knitting convention. Yes, these things exist. Yes, they are totally awesome.

But it happens to be co-located with OSCON, so when we walked into the convention centre, Leah and I were struck by “Hey, our *other* people!” And when looking around for knitting registration, we ran into a friend from Grace Hopper. Quick catch up and “no, really, we’re here for the knitting” and some discussion about girl geeking and smart textiles and now we have a plan for browsing the OSCON expo hall this afternoon.

The world is small, geeks collide, and the integration of disparate loves is where magic happens.

I’m reviewing papers this week and next. I suspect there will be several posts letting off steam or musing about meta-research.

Do other reviewers find themselves looking closely at the bibliography? I find my impression of the scholarship is influenced by it—I like it when the references show breadth in time and authorship, and I look to it to support or counter my impression of the work itself. Good, clear presentation of the problems and approach are usually accompanied by good, broad references covering (at a minimum) most of what I know of related work and (usually) more.

NIPS uses number citations (boo hiss), so on first read I don’t match up in-paper cites to the bibliography. But you can usually get a pretty good sense of who they’re referencing from the text (and I love it when people give context despite the style guide).

One stunning negative example I just ran into cited textbooks almost exclusively. Interestingly enough, I had been wondering as I read through the paper if the authors had read certain books/papers. Then, there they were. Alongside the textbooks, there were only three papers, none of which were about the algorithms being explored. You know when you’re reading along and just waiting for the a-ha moment when the authors point out that their problem is like this known task, where there is this family of approaches, and here’s the new thing they’re doing? Yeah. I hit the bibliography before that moment came. And then the textbook-heavy citation page reinforced the impression that they didn’t know what was actually going on in the relevant fields.

I suspect this distribution of citations is a very, very bad sign in general. It’s not that textbooks are bad as such, but it is difficult to believe someone has carefully read almost a dozen dense, long books and *none* of the original related work.

I’ve definitely cited textbooks myself, but I try to restrict it to the obvious and general things—like a well-known algorithm or “for a comprehensive overview.” I get nervous when my only reference for rather specific information is a textbook.

Anyone out there have similar reactions? Or am I alone in this?

It is always great fun when you go back to read a document after a break of a month or two and still think it is helpful and makes sense. All that work was worth it after all! Although finding all the typos is less fun. Sorry, committee members. I will try to build in a break and typo hunt on the actual thesis.

As a matter of fact, the first essential in dealing with scientific matters (when one is not inspired by the mission of teaching) is to have some new observation or useful idea to communicate to others. Nothing is more ridiculous than the presumption of writing on a topic without providing any real clarification—simply to exhibit an overly vivid imagination, or to show off pedantic knowledge with data gathered second- or thirdhand.

This has also reinforced the overwhelming importance of actually writing things down, actually doing the experiment. It is much easier to examine something that is physically realized. Tossing and turning over thoughts in your head is not nearly as effective a use of time. Better the imperfect proposal than no proposal at all!

But to speculate continuously—to theorize just for its own sake, without arriving at an objective analysis of phenomena—is to lose oneself in a kind of philosophical idealism without a solid foundation, to turn one’s back on reality.

Also great fun is when you’ve thought long and hard about something and are starting to see it pay off. In particular, I was reading the intro to Human Knowledge: classical and contemporary approaches, which is a philosophy book, and finding that I was understanding it pretty well and it was covering some of the same ground I’ve been working through. This is hardly recently published work, but it is very good to see I am not veering off into personal idiosyncrasies.

… when a beginner’s results turn out to be similar to those published a short time earlier, he should not be discouraged—instead, he should gain confidence in his own worth, and gather encouragement for future undertakings. In the end he will produce original scientific work, providing his financial resources match his good intentions.

And then when I went to outline my talk on the Thesis Board, it fell into place rather quickly, and some sticking points I had anticipated weren’t an issue after all. Because—shocker—I’ve been working on this for long enough that I actually have some coherent things to say.

It is not sufficient to examine; it is also necessary to observe and reflect: we should infuse the things we observe with the intensity of our emotions and with a deep sense of affinity. We should make them our own where the heart is concerned, as well as in an intellectual sense. Only then will they surrender their secrets to us, for enthusiasm heightens and refines our perception. As with the lover who discovers new perfections every day in the woman he adores, he who studies an object with an endless sense of pleasure finally discerns interesting details and unusual properties that escape the thoughtless attention of those who work in a routine way.

All in all, a good day yesterday. I’m looking forward to working on the talk with Rich this afternoon.

Quotes from our last Making Minds reading group book, Advice for a Young Investigator.