A Student’s Unlovely View of UC Berkeley

I recently met an undergraduate named Samantha who is majoring in Economics at UC Berkeley. She is almost done. I asked her a few questions about her education:

SR: Did UC Berkeley help you figure out what you were good at?

Samantha: No. In UC Berkeley classes you don’t get to do any individual searching. You just have to do what they tell you. Because it’s all theoretical, none of it is very practical. You don’t do any practical projects. The classes don’t give you any idea of what you want to do career-wise.

SR: Did UC Berkeley help you figure out what you enjoy doing?

Samantha: No.

SR: Why not?

Samantha: I’m here just for the name. It scares you away from trying new things. Intimidating class sizes, professors that don’t seem invested in the students.

A student advisor’s view.

Science in Action: Omega-3 (a new test)

Two days ago I explained why the test I was using to measure my mental function many times/day had room for improvement. I wanted a new test much like the old test but with which my accuracy was higher.

I was more accurate with the simple arithmetic test (e.g., 3 + 6) than with the memory test I described two days ago. The crucial difference might have been the number of possible answers. The arithmetic test had 40-odd possible answers; the memory test had 2 (yes and no). Saul Sternberg did a reaction-time experiment in which the number of possible answers was varied from 2 to 8. I don’t know what the accuracy data were but the variance of the reaction times was lower with 8 possible answers even though reaction times were longer. A plausible explanation is that there was much more anticipation with 2 possible answers than with 8. Anticipation can cause errors.

The new test I am trying consists of typing how many letters from the set {A, B, C, D} are among a set of four letters chosen from a much larger set (most of the alphabet). The possible answers are “1″, “2″, “3″, and “4,” each equally likely. For example, I might see T B X A. The correct answer is “2″. I am using R (the programming language) to run this test so I type “2″ with one hand and hit Enter with the other as fast as possible.

Here are the results so far from the new test — the training phase.

mean RT

These values are taken from fit of a linear model; they are similar to means. As I gain experience with the test I am getting faster. The new test is slower than the old test (which is good — more mental processing).

Consistent with what Sternberg found, variation in reaction times is less with the new test than with the old test even though average reaction times are greater:

This graph shows the standard deviation of residuals from the fitted model. The units are reciprocal seconds (x 10) because I did a reciprocal transformation before fitting the model. The reciprocal transformation made the reaction times close to normally distributed.

Here is accuracy:

The new test feels easier than the old test, but so far there is little difference.

Overall it seems to be a step in the right direction. Reduction in variation of reaction times means more sensitive measurements.

The experiments I am planning are very simple: Test myself regularly (say, every half-hour), eat something. If the measurements are steady, it is very easy to see an effect. As far as I know, such experiments have never been done. One reason, I think, is that they require self-experimentation: It is no trouble for me to do the test (which takes 4 minutes) 100 times in a week and thereby reach a steady state. But to have someone else do the test 100 times as preparation — especially if the test were done in a lab — would be very difficult.

My Theory of Human Evolution (red stained glass edition)

As regular readers of this blog know, I propose that art exists because in our evolutionary past payment to artists promoted material science — learning how to create new materials with useful properties. For example, red stained glass.

Medieval artisans unknowingly became nanotechnologists when they made red stained glass by mixing gold chloride into molten glass. That created tiny gold spheres, which absorbed and reflected sunlight in a way that produces a rich ruby color.

The gold spheres have to be about 25 nanometers in diameter to get this effect.

Thanks to Joshua Schrier.

Science in Action: Omega-3 (follow-up of surprise)

During a trip to Los Angeles a few weeks ago, I noticed that my scores on several mental tests were better all of a sudden. The apparent cause was that I had taken flaxseed oil at an unusual time. Normally I took it about 10 hours before the tests; in this case I had taken it about 4 hours before.

Does flaxseed oil have a short-lived effect on brain function? When I got home I tried to find out. Rather than doing a set of four tests once per day I switched to one test many times per day (e.g., 10 times). This would allow detection of short-lived ups and downs in my mental function.

The test I used required nothing but my laptop. I usually have my laptop with me so such a test is much easier to do throughout the day than a task that requires other equipment. The test consisted of four blocks of 50 trials each. For each block I memorized a new set of three digits (e.g., 0 1 7). On each trial I saw 1, 3, or 5 digits and pressed a keyboard key as quickly as possible to indicate if any of the memorized digits is in the displayed set. For example, if the memory set was 0 1 7 and the display set was 3 2 8 the correct answer was “no” (which I indicated by pressing “4″).

The trials were packed together as closely as possible: As soon as I answered, the next set appeared. It took about 3 minutes to do 200 trials.

I did frequent measurements for four or five days. They appeared to confirm what the Los Angeles measurements suggested: Flaxseed oil did have a short-term effect. But two things muddied the water:

1. Baseline measurements were not always as steady as I would like. There were ups and downs that seemed too large to be random variation. The curious and exciting thing was that these ups and downs usually had a possible explanation — something had changed. For example, the measurements would be X1, X2, X3, Y. X1, X2, and X3 are close; Y is quite different. Between X3 and Y I had eaten a meal.

2. The task was difficult. I was about 88% correct and it was hard to do better. With any reaction-time task there is a speed-accuracy tradeoff: If you are slower, you can be more accurate. In this particular case this is a problem because it is an added source of variation and may reduce reaction-time differences: Rather than becoming slower, I become less accurate (or rather than becoming faster I become more accurate).

Problem #1 is easy (if slightly unpleasant) to solve: Keep the situation more constant. Eat less during the measurement period, etc.

To reduce Problem #2 I am learning a new task. I will go into detail tomorrow.

Why I Blog

Robin Hanson has doubts about the long-term value of blogging — especially his own:

My main doubt is whether this will accumulate . . . We get over a thousand readers a day here, and those readers must be influenced somehow. But do those influences add up to a long term net effect?

Consider that before the farming revolution humanity’s knowledge accumulated very slowly. Each person learned a great deal over the course of his lifetime, both by discovering new insights for himself and by listening to others. Nevertheless, the distribution of knowledge in the population hardly changed; each new generation had to rediscover and relearn the same insights all over again.

Before farming, I believe new insights were passed down in three ways. 1. Stories. Stories are to teaching as good food is to nourishment. Whenever I tell a story, my students pay close attention. 2. Apprenticeships. 3. Specialists talking to each other — a manifestation of the Fan Club Instinct. Blogging is a new version of Method 3. When old specialists talked to young specialists, knowledge was passed down. Robin is young, but his posts are influencing even younger persons.

I think blogging is a good use of my time for several reasons. 1. Advertising. I hope blogging will draw attention to my papers and book and future work. Brian Wansink nicely made this point (scientists should advertise). 2. Quasi-reinforcement. Blogging divides a big task (writing a book or paper) into much smaller tasks (writing posts). 3. Data collection. Because of my omega-3 posts, two other people gathered data useful (very) to me. Tim Lundeen’s data led me to study new tasks. Tyler Cowen’s experience with flaxseed oil is enormously important to my omega-3 research.

But I have to agree with Robin that blogging sometimes seems too seductive — that I should write fewer posts like this one and more that fit into the book and papers I want to write. I keep thinking of something Philip Weiss said in his blog: For men, the most enjoyable form of expression is the Op-Ed piece.

Inside College Classrooms

Tom Perrotta, author of the novel Little Children, was an undergraduate at Yale, a graduate student at Syracuse, and a teacher at Harvard and Yale. I assume this passage from Little Children is based on that experience:

What did her in [as a graduate student] was the teaching. Some people loved it, of course, loved the sound of their own voices, the chance to display their cleverness to a captive audience. And then there were the instructors like herself, who simply couldn’t communicate in a classroom setting. They made one point over and over with mind-numbing insistence, or else they circled around a dozen half-articulated ideas without landing on a single one. They read woodenly from prepared notes, or got lost in their muddled syntax while attempting to speak off the cuff. God help them if they attempted a joke.

Curious. To “love teaching” is to love hearing your own voice and showing off. This passage seems to imply that Perrotta’s teachers either “loved teaching” in this unpleasant sense or were muddled and awkward failures. I would have thought that in a non-occupational-skills class (such as sociology, history, or literature), what a good teacher does is tell lots of stories. Apparently this didn’t happen much in Perrotta’s experience.

Science in Action: Sunlight and Sleep (more progress)

Surely we need sunlight to sleep properly. But how much? Rats can be synchronized to a 24-hour activity rhythm with a relatively small amount of light (such as one hour) every 24 hours. This is one reason for the emphasis on morning light by sleep doctors mentioned in a previous post.

I have agreed with them. For the last 10 years I have gotten one hour of sunlight-like light every morning from a bank of fluorescent lights on the handles of my treadmill. The lights shined up at me while I exercised and watched TV. This, I thought, allowed me to get a good dose of light with low variance in when and how much and to combine light-getting with exercise. I never questioned this routine.

Then came the event that led to this Sunlight and Sleep series: In the airport during a trip to New Orleans, a student told me when she sunbathes, she sleeps better. When I got home from my trip I tested her idea. Me, too: When I was outdoors a lot (in the shade), I slept better.

I took another trip (to Los Angeles). When I got back from that trip, I decided that I would adjust the timing of the treadmill light so that it interfered less with my day. I shifted it from 9:00 am to 10:00 am (original timing) to 8:00 am to 9:00 am (new timing).

To my surprise I started waking up too early, so often it could not be a coincidence. The only change I had made was timing of the light. So the treadmill light was making things worse! I stopped it entirely. My sleep improved — no more early awakening. Huh.

Here are details:

Period 1 (treadmill light 9-10 am, little sunlight): woke up early 29 days out of 99 (29%)

Period 2 (treadmill light 9-10 am, lots of sunlight): woke up early 1 day out of 25 (4%)

Period 3 (treadmill light 8-9 am, lots of sunlight): woke up early 4 days out 8 (50%)

Period 4 (no treadmill light, lots of sunlight): woke up early 0 days out of 8 (0%).

Lots of sunlight means 6-8 hours exposure to light of roughly 1000-2000 lux. Sitting in the shade or inside next to a big window is always enough. At the low end (1000 lux) my laptop screen is easy to read; at the high end (2000 lux), which I try to avoid, it becomes slightly hard to read.

Cure Versus Prevention (flies edition)

How to reduce flies? Here’s one way:

A Chinese city suburb has set a bounty on dead flies in a bid to promote public hygiene . . . Xigong, a district of Luoyang in the central province of Henan, paid out more than 1,000 yuan ($125) for about 2,000 dead flies on July 1, the day it launched the scheme with the aim of encouraging cleanliness in residential areas. . . An Internet user said that although the office had good intentions, the action itself had made the district a laughing stock.

“The key point is the government should encourage residents to clean up the environment so that no flies can live there, instead of spending money on dead flies,” the Internet user wrote.

Yes. This gets back to Erika Schwartz’s criticism of Gina Kolata and the NY Times for not mentioning prevention in an article about strokes. Kolata’s article accurately reflected the situation: far more interest in (i.e., money spent on) cure than prevention. It makes as much sense in America as it does in China.

Norman Temple and I wrote about a related problem: more support for high-tech than low-tech research, even though low-tech research has been more helpful. The low-tech research is more prevention-related.

More health-care absurdity.

Absurdity and Pathos in Elementary-School Education

At the San Francisco Chocolate Salon, which I attended because of my interest in connoisseurship and gifts, I learned some sad truths about elementary-school education. A San Francisco public school teacher told me:

1. The curriculum is mandated. Tests are mandated. And they disagree. For example, you are forced to teach what a certain word means. You spend two weeks teaching that word and then the tests use a different word for the same idea.

2. There is no allowance for differing rates of learning. Some kids learn faster than others. Teachers are not allowed to adjust.

3. There are rules about what teachers must put on classroom walls. If a federal inspector comes around and you don’t have the proper material on your classroom walls, a note goes in your permanent file.

4. The Reading First program requires that reading be taught before everything else. Some kids are relatively slow to learn to read but they are able to learn in other ways. The effect of the mandate is that these other kids sit in the classroom baffled and unhappy and lose self-confidence.

5. The rigidity of the curriculum — which must be exactly the same for all students — squashes encouragement. For example, suppose a student is interested in bugs. You could encourage reading by giving the student books about bugs. This is a natural, effective, and easy way to teach reading. This way of teaching is not just discouraged but prohibited.

6. A friend of mine says that bookstores should be divided into “real books” and “other books.” Children’s textbooks, which are worse than anything in a bookstore, deserve their own category. A fifth-grade teacher got around the awfulness of the textbooks by putting real books in the center of the classroom tables and having children sit with their textbooks open around them. This allowed the students to read the real books but if the principal came by the teacher would not get in trouble because the assigned textbooks were open in front of the students.

Excellent posts about elementary-school education by Tyler Cowen and Alex Tabbarok.

Omega-3: I Can See For Myself

“The flax seed oil scam” by a herbalist named Henriette says bad things about flaxseed oil. One is about (lack of) conversion of ALA (the short-chain omega-3 in flaxseed oil) to EPA and DHA (the long-chain omega-3s found in fish oil and presumably active in the brain):

The scam is in flax seed oil folks trying to maintain that we can convert ALA into EPA and DHA in anything like relevant amounts.

We can’t. We convert at most 10 %, but usually less than half that.

Which is “fairly common knowledge among nutritionists,” says Henriette. She quotes the abstracts of two scientific papers to support this point. The other criticism is that flaxseed oil goes bad quickly:

I dislike flax seed oil for another reason as well: it oxidizes (goes rancid) pretty much the minute it’s pressed, and unless it’s been refrigerated ALL the way from press to consumer, it’s ALWAYS rancid.

After I read this, I realized I was in an unusual position. When it comes to flaxseed oil, I don’t have to take anyone’s word for it. I have been able to measure the benefits by myself on myself. Apparently the conversion ratio, whatever it is, is high enough; and the suppliers of my flaxseed oil (I have used Spectrum Organic, Barlean’s, and the Whole Foods house brand) have solved the oxidation problem.

With almost every other nutrient, my knowledge is far less certain. Sure, I need some Vitamin C, but how much is best? Too much may cause cancer. I’ll probably never know the best amount for the average person, much less the best amount for myself.