Quale Hunt

It was with pleasure that I recently encountered a new concept towards the end of Ian Stewart’s Vision of Infinity; The Great Mathematical Problems.  The pleasure was simply this: I’d experienced the concept; I was totally comfortable with its effect; but I was totally unfamiliar with the term.  And just by my describing this introduction as a “pleasure”, you, too, are probably in the same boat.  And so let me introduce to you; the concept of Qualia.

“Qualia” is the plural of “Quale”.  Much like a duck, you’ll recognize a quale when you encounter one.  How stupid of me to attempt an essay on this topic; a quale, is after all, defined in part as “ineffable”; it cannot be communicated, and can only be understood through experience.  It is clearly foolhardy to write about such things; and yet I bet you know exactly what I mean.

I could simply say “red”, “toothache”, or “mouthwatering steak” and you would have your very own personal reaction.  There’s no saying that your reaction is the same as mine, your mother’s, or in any way “correct.”  But we have an undeniable, personal reaction in response to each these prompts, and those are our specific qualia.  Having experienced the response, you know (your personal version of) the subject.

It was a pleasure to encounter this, because it was contained within a discussion of the realm of mathematics.  Is mathematics simply a human construct; or does it exist outside our thoughts, in and of itself?  After all, Stuff Happens!, by itself and in an instant, whether we are there to see it or not, and regardless of our ability to understand the mathematical explanations.  And I had mentioned my previous intrigue in the nearly ubiquitous, often sudden appearances of certain transcendental numbers like pi and e (and Euler’s Constant and…?)  These seem (to me) to simply have to be real.

But perhaps most importantly, how did I know to set the hook on certain of this weeks perch and crappies?  I repeatedly experienced some sensation that caused me to do so; and yet I’ve not been able to explain that feeling.  My quale was neither visual nor tactile, but I’ve often experienced that same trigger, frequently leading to inexplicable catches.  If you are a fisherman, you probably have, too.

Finally, who’d have thunk that this book would have inspired a possible future boat name; “Quale Hunt”.^^^   Sometimes you just feel it.  Ephin’ ineffable qualia.

^^^Although you know that I’d have some explaining to do.

Conjectures and Meditations

With the recent holidays behind and proper resuscitation, a little bit of expendable time and the boat seasonally stuck in the garage, I seem to have started reading again.  A special gift this Christmas was Visions of Infinity: The Great Mathematical Problems by Ian Stewart.

I am no mathematician!  (This will soon be obvious.)  But I was always able to do the work assigned, and I occasionally found mathematics to be inspiring.  (As I write this, I have to question myself; Was it the pursuit?  Or the solution? ...that provided the drive?)  For a month or so I even considered mathematics as a college major (perhaps to counterbalance a second major in The Classics), and I took a bit more math than was specifically required for my eventual biological studies.  But in the end, I have to repeat, I am no mathematician.

So here’s another book, on a pretty deep topic and written for a broad, yet sharp audience by an eloquent expert in the field; and, a gift from a loved one!  Once again, my kind of book!  I'm a Big Fan of Prologues and Epilogues, and I quickly extracted some value from the Prologue (and introductory Chapter 1) on Christmas morning:

• Early on, mathematics is described as “Notions, not Notations.”   Now, if Karl Gauss believes this about mathematics, then I do, too!  The beauty of this notion or type of book is that one can be freed from many of the technical details and logistics, and be allowed to actually think of what’s behind the subject matter.  Why is it important?  Why is it interesting?  Why is it worth our time and effort?  Surely, math and science (or any other discipline) should be taught (or at least offered) in this manner.  But more importantly, this type of idea affirms process over outcome; and as I’ve noted before, one can often only try to influence/improve the process.  You can’t necessarily guarantee any specific result.
• Alongside this philosophy, the author characterizes mathematicians’ view-point of these Great Problems as (in my words) “Not really caring about the specific solution, but rather caring with extreme depth that they’ve not yet provided one. “  What a wellspring of motivation!  There will be no resting on laurels or coasting through issues, because there are always new, interesting problems to be addressed.  These might arise naturally, in their due time, or be revealed through what we learn via our efforts.
• And so the actual quest is to identify and develop useful and productive methods.   In the end, it is the mastery of Methods – not simply Answers – that matters the most; at least with respect to productively engaging the next situation we find ourselves in.
• Finally, a compelling aspect of this book (and of math, science and academic pursuit in general) is that this work is being tackled by clearly engaged humans, with emotional investment and interactions among disciplines.  It takes personal investment and the help of others to succeed at most things.  (Dare I go on?  Is there really anything else of value that I could add?)

I know that I didn’t capture everything the book offers.  Occasionally I was on the fringe of fully understanding the matter at hand, and quite often I was less so.  Neither The Four Color Theorem for Coloring Maps (nor its proof) exactly excites me.  

I mostly get the ideas behind a Moebius Strip, but beyond that, Topology largely alludes me.  Unfortunately, it seems to be pretty important to Modern Mathematicians.

The mathematics got further and further from my experience and comfort level, and the last problem posed was difficult for the author to even phrase.  And yet I could feel the author becoming less mathematical and more philosophical in his writing.  So while I'd gotten off to a great start with this book, and had progressively slogged through the middle, he really brought things together for me in the last couple of chapters.

So let me declare my appreciation for the following “mathy” concepts from this book that rang true for me:

• Let us Accept the Computer, but Appreciate the Human.   Computers are capable of doing the work, but they need to be directed.  Use of computerized iteration only makes sense and can improve accuracy while reducing the drudgery of addressing many problems, but (for the most part) humans will provide the vision and direction for these efforts.  We’ll benefit most from some sort of Balanced Partnership between Computer Scientists and Mathematicians; who knows where their collaboration will lead us?  But we do know that each expertly wields a set of powerful tools; and there is a synergistic, complementary relationship between these sets.  Again, who knows where their collaboration will lead us?
• Where’s the Value?  Does it reside in The solution or in The Process?  It depends on perspective and immediate needs, of course; the recipient of successful emergency surgery is most grateful for the results; society in the main should be most grateful for the processes, atmosphere and institutions that enabled the development and timely delivery of the employed surgical techniques.  So the specific resolution to Fermat’s Last Theorem or any of these Great Problems doesn’t matter to most as much as the quest for this resolution.  That quest spun off many tools and understandings that will ultimately affect society as a whole; and while many of the participants in this quest probably foresaw no specific practical applications from this effort, it is inevitable that these will arise.
• Mordell’s Conjecture that (for certain, known types of equations), “Yes, there are a finite number of solutions from which all (infinite) solutions can be obtained” lets me appreciate the juxtaposition of finite with infinite; but ultimately, isn’t the search for, and the identification and appreciation of, those Finite Solutions/ Core Essences/Numena  what this is all about?  My role as father or spouse, my endeavors, my blogging, my motivations and happiness ultimately define my identity, purpose, and influence.
• Pi and e are Transcendental.   They are powerful and irrational.  They simply arise from our versions of mathematics, from multiple directions, and yet they can only be (albeit very closely) approximated.  They are the glue to many, basic concepts, and I’ve often wondered about them.  It’s a wonder we (collectively) found them.  It’s a further wonder that we can use them so productively, repeatedly.  They have lives of their own, and they seem to represent (in a Quest for Knowledge sense) Truth and Beauty about as much as anything. 

So this is a math book, but let’s face it, it’s not necessarily about the math.  It’s about recognizing and respecting the monumental effort behind this human endeavor and the broad perspective that this can provide.  It’s also about passionately tackling a portion of it (especially for the fun of it!) with the tools at hand.   It’s about trying to link our interests and assets, with the prospect of some unspecified Added Value in our lives.

Now IMHO, Fishing is more fun than math!  But many of the same lines of thought hold true, and while I’ve stated that I am no mathematician; I think I can say that I am a fisherman!  Fishing’s not necessarily about the catching; but it is about having caught; and about having understood the experience to the extent that we go fishing with the expectation of catching.   It’s about using this understanding to develop the skills and methods we use to present our baits; with the best tools we’ve acquired along the way to do so.  It’s about Fishing’s Great Problems, which are represented by the fish we know or suspect to be present but haven’t yet caught; the places we’ve not yet visited; and the ecosystems we need to protect.  Outcomes will certainly matter, but they will ultimately pale in comparison to the methods utilized and efforts expended.  What we experience and learn along the way will certainly inspire future efforts, and those efforts will be aided with sharpened and refined tools.

Fishing is my Big Effort of choice, and it certainly shapes my Perspective (on the natural world, what to do with time and money, how to figure things out, how to engage and learn and progress and share), and it might be the Living Well portion of my efforts.  In the end, I simply appreciate all of the fishing-related instructions, advice, camaraderie, assistance and experiences that I’ve shared (and will share) with family, friends and customers.

I was fortunate to share this bruiser Maine surf striper with my good friend, F.

Diversity Training

Intel might have just set aside $300 Million to assist their Diversity Enhancement Efforts, but both of my current employers have already spent much time and effort in special efforts aimed at aiding their employees in their understanding and appreciation of diversity in the workplace.  And I have to admit, it has really taken hold at my fun, secondary workplace.

On a recent, hectic, understaffed Sunday morning, I was searching for a specific item.  In the course of 15 short minutes I crossed paths with three co-workers who were in a position to help.  They variously and voluntarily labelled each other as “Numbskulls”, “Nitwits” and “A**holes”. 

There’s no way they’d have used such diverse vocabulary prior to the training.

The Emperor of All Blog Entries

I keep coming back in my thoughts to the prologue of Guns, Germs, and Steel by Jared Diamond (1997) as a starting point; in a certain way, my intellectual starting point.  (By this I mean thinking about stuff outside of my specific training, formal education and day-to-day pursuits.)   It’s been a long time since I've read GG&S, but what I recall is that this exploration of apparent global Eurasian domination began with a simple line of questioning from a New Guinea native: Why (does the White Man have) so much stuff? When others, clearly as intelligent, resourceful and hard-working, have so little?  And need so little?  

There was something important in this book (for me); after all, it has stuck with me for 15 years or more.  It was exactly "my kind of book" in that it could have served as a text for a very interesting course as a non-major in a given discipline.  It provided lots to think about, but without the forced rigor of an academic tome.  At the very least it caused me to think, question, and appreciate certain aspects of my fortunate place in this world.  But practically, and specifically for my purposes here, it broadened my readings and made me an easy mark for gift-giving opportunities.  I've been the beneficiary, many times, of gift books that others might not choose to read.

Fast-forward 15 years or so; one of the Christmas presents I received in 2013 was, even by the giver’s admission, a little odd.  It was a book, a biography, of cancer; The Emperor of All Maladies, by Dr. Siddhartha Mukherjee (2010).  Perhaps a bit odd in a supposedly joyous season, but it was offered as a sharing of some interesting in-sight, from a beloved fellow scientist, and so worthy of my time and attention.

(Here, please allow me to interject a necessary statement of humility.  I’m not a writer; I don’t have full vesting in the issue of cancer; I'm not a doctor; I'm currently barely a scientist, and there's probably much in the book that I missed, misunderstood, or misinterpreted.  Anyone can choose to ignore anything here.  But my time with this book was, once again, an opportunity for me to mull some things over and make some tentative connections.)

I’ve let this one simmer for quite a while; In fact, I’ve barely read a book since I completed this one.  I’ve simply not been ready.  I’ve probably forgotten many of the details that were pertinent to my understanding of the disease, of the book, at the time.  But here’s what I know stuck:

• I’m getting older, and like all Americans, Cancer has become a bigger presence in my life.  Not personally (at the moment), but peripherally.  Closer and closer acquaintances and friends are being affected, with increasing frequency.  Knowledge may be power*; the book may simply represent a powerful defense against the fear of an ill fate.  Disease is, after all, biologically interesting.

• On page 116, the author observes that “I had recently noticed that events outside science…had something to do with the setting of science policy."  Like many scientists, I was fully mature before my blind faith in science let me realize this*.  Unlike many scientists, I accept this as truth.  I'm willing to embrace the importance of communication, education, outreach and relationships in advancing the proper use of science.  My scientific skills might be suffering; but I think I'm getting better at certain of these others.

• Medicine and surgery (and local social cliques, and so forth) are such closed “clubs” that they are difficult to change; change has to be initiated and accepted from within the circle.*     Medicine and surgery may represent an extreme, but we all have our clubs and circles; co-workers, partners, business groups, friends and family.   I’m just a single, little cog in each of mine, and I can only do so much.  Maybe I’d be more productive if I first made a little noise; and so if I were more influential within my circles.

• Is it really possible that the simple prevalence and universal social acceptance of smoking in the 50s and 60s masked its role in causing cancer and detriment to public health?  Is it possible for something so obviously obvious to be over-looked? For so long? By so many?  I 'm almost afraid to ask, "What are we over-looking at this very moment?"  

• … because I'm busy with an endeavor designed to protect the environment and public health; and many of my tools are designed to protect to the "one in a million" level of risk.  But about 1 in 3 Americans gets cancer in their allotted time.  So either we’re not effective; or there are other factors overwhelming our efforts (I think it’s the latter.)  And yet, if either scenario is the case (or even the accepted perception), wouldn’t scarce resources get a bigger bang for the buck if they were applied to those other (overwhelming) factors?  These are scary thoughts, especially from within.  And while there are many tangible benefits from programs such as mine, can I really claim to be "protective?"  Shouldn't I best line up these other benefits and tout them as successes should we ever awake to (or perceive) the evidence of the probabilistic health outcome of being a modern American?

• On page 307, the author discusses the importance of “resuscitation” for his patients.  This is not a literal resuscitation in the medical sense, but rather a recovery and re-integration into meaningful life for a patient, once the biggest dramas have passed.  Fortunately (from my perspective), he emphasizes process over outcome.  This has become a more common, recurring theme for me, and openness to this theme seems to be an important key; because, let’s face it, we can somewhat control our participation in a given process; but specific outcomes are often beyond our control. ^^^

So; Presence and Effort; whether it’s at work or C’s, dinner conversation or in the boat, this is my promise (and feel free to dope-slap me if I temporarily forget!)  I can’t promise specific results, but I can promise you my attention, efforts, and respect.  I can contribute positively (to the limits of my ability and resources) to our shared time and interests, but with no guarantees of a specific result.

*****

*I’ve been drafting this for many months, but as I near “completion”, I’ve just started reading another (Christmas 2014) gift book from the same  generous gifter.  And what do you know, the points noted above* seem to be the premise for this most recent gift (The Forgotten Half of Change by Luc de Brabandere.)

^^^It is very likely that this will be further explored a little later.