• May 12, 2010 /  Notices

    As some of you know, I attempted to complete my PhD in Statistics from the University of Chicago this year. Monday and Tuesday, I presented on my first 2 chapters and asked for a few months to finish the rest. This was unsuccessful, as the faculty thought I could not complete things in the remaining time. I received a MS, Master of Science, and was separated from the program.

    Sadly, television footage of the event was nonexistent, as the Discovery channel did not choose to attend. Like all big events, we can imagine a sideline reporter, who peppered me with questions after the decision. This fantasy reporter will ask thoughful things, though. This will serve as a FAQ – Failure Asked Questions.

    What did you think of your performance Monday afternoon?
    Well, Hedy, I carried through, but it wasn’t my best day. There were two typos in the slide deck, which is very embarrassing by my standards. The audience was challenging, too, with six professors in the audience all free to ask questions.

    We heard rumors that you had trouble with some of the questions because of an ear injury?
    Yes, my right ear was clogged, and I couldn’t hear from that side. It’s no excuse, though, in the playoffs. After all, hockey players take out their own teeth. This was nothing.

    Before this, you thought you could get through. [Flashback to interview with Rosalind]
    I always knew it would be tough out here, but I had put in a lot of effort this year and thought I had a chance.

    What changed?
    A few things. Maybe most importantly, none of the members of my original committee were available, so nobody there was very familiar with my work.

    There are very few good stories when the entire committee has been lost.
    Sure. Losing everyone is no Fairytale, though I might be cursed. They set a different standard than what I had been working towards. It might not be enough to finish code, simulations, and some basic applications. Maybe I should also need to show superiority over a variety of models, or one big model. I should have asked for clarification 6 months ago, or even 3 years ago.

    What about your motivation? There seems to have been dissention at times.
    It’s not a secret that I haven’t always been enthusiastic about my thesis. I’m not, and have never been, a theoretical statistician. I like model building and teaching. It’s been a struggle. This year, though, I set aside other things and really attacked the problem. Most of you have seen and heard a lot less from me this year. It wasn’t enough. While I disagree with the opinion that I would need a year more, I needed full time support and effort. I just didn’t have it.

    What comes next?
    Well, I have a one-year contract with my current employer. Then I’ve got options. As much as I’d like to just take a community college job with an MS, those jobs are disappearing, thanks to accreditation and rankings. I can go to industry and become wealthy, or I can find a place to complete a terminal degree. For instance, Quantitative Research Methods at the Michigan school of education would fit me well, as would Minnesota’s statistics education program. The problem is that both of them are in cold, dark climates. That got me into trouble at Chicago. I’ve got time to make that decision.

    And how do you feel?
    Yes, I’m tired, disappointed, and hurt, but not Johnny Cash hurt. While I wish we would have ended things 3 years ago, if this was going to be the standard, I gained a lot of experience in this time. I now have ideas for a career, not just a PhD and promise. Most importantly, I am so much healthier, overall, that I’d jump again. But if I’m going to come back for another season, it’ll have to be the right fit, both in work and location.

    Thanks for your time.
    You’re welcome.

  • May 10, 2010 /  Book Reviews

    In Chicago, before my talk on the first 2 chapters of my dissertation, I was going to spend Saturday afternoon wandering the maze at the Morton Arboretum in Lisle, between stays for the Hyatt and American Airlines promotion. It’s amazing how things get when two companies – in this case American Airlines and Marriott – break a relationship. Suddenly the other hotels all have extra-good AA promos. (If you live in Chicago, about $300 can turn itself into 28,000 AA miles and 3 Hyatt nights, enough for a flight in the US and 3 nights there. It’s a great deal.)

    However, it was chilly in Chicago today, less than 10C (50F), and I didn’t want to walk outside. So, with time between check-out and check-in, I went to Borders and grabbed a few books with interesting titles. One of those was The Last Christian by David Gregory. (Don’t be fooled; the publisher Waterbrook Multnomah is not Christian; it’s part of Random House.) When I saw it on the new books display, I wasn’t even sure if it was fiction or non-fiction. As it was futuristic science fiction, I started reading. Two hours later, I had spent my afternoon and now have a quick review.

    Mr. Gregory has an interesting premise. He advances society to 2088, and makes two major changes. The first change is that technology has advanced to the point where brains can be replicated in computer form. While this technology has just begun, almost all Westerners have neural implants and access virtual reality. Most communication takes place in lifelike VR, though people still move face to face. (Interestingly, though, physical transport is not at higher speed, just more automated.)
    The second change is that Christianity, and all other religions, have effectively disappeared from the US and Europe. It’s basically a hyper-acceleration of the decline argument in evangelical and Catholic circles. Our protagonist, Abby, is exempt because she is the daughter of a missionary family, who lived with the natives in Papua New Guinea and had no working Internet Link. In a Deus ex machina, contact with these natives had been prohibited by law, to protect their culture, and nobody had checked on her for at least 20 years, including the organization that arguably supported her parents’ work.

    This points out both the strength and weakness of Mr. Gregory’s work. The fact that I finished the book in one sitting should indicate that I liked it, at least somewhat. After all, Borders had plenty of other options. The plot moves briskly; I was actually surprised by two minor twists, though the main climax is foreseeable by about page 90. Additionally, several of the characters are complicated; there’s a feeling that they have backstory, and this affects the novel in a couple places. Those are good things. Also, there are questions of faith throughout the novel, some mentioned in the Reader’s Guide. (The Guide contains spoilers, so be careful.)

    At the same time, there are several problems with the text, which lead me to my rating of just an average 2 out of 5. Some are theological; even with the current troubles in Catholicism, I find it crazy to believe that Catholicism could be eliminated within three generations. Many people baptized today would be alive in 2088. With the mentioned improvements in medicine, priests ordained today would still be alive. They just wouldn’t go away, Tolerance Act or no.
    Additionally, the characters are too interconnected. Yes, it makes it easier if there are fathers, and grandfathers, and the like. But that makes this too simple, too coincidental. It’s another machina, not including the ones created in the book. At least, the professor could have been mere professional interest. And did the nearest relative HAVE to be a Senator? It’s overly tidy and simplistic, which is interesting given that the characters are also complicated.

    Overall, I don’t want to be too harsh, as the main question is interesting. Would you take indefinite, potentially eternal life on Earth? Or hope for Heaven? Mr. Gregory’s fundamentalist arguments are a start, just a beginning. Though I appreciate that, there’s space in the science fiction realm that I hope more nuanced authors could consider.