Prof. Winston’s Ideas

No Thank You

by Patrick on February 3, 2013

in IAP, Prof. Winston's Ideas

 

Professor Patrick Henry Winston ’65, SM ’67, PhD ’70

I’ve been doing my “How to Speak” IAP talk in 6-120 for three decades. With 154 seats, it has been a little too small, but I was reluctant to take on one of the bigger halls, because I teach that talks given in sparsely populated venues have an unimportant feel.

This year, the Physics Department did me a favor and mysteriously booted me out of 6-120.  I landed in 10-250, the Center of the Universe, MIT’s second largest hall, with 425 seats.  I was relieved when 11 am rolled around and it was much closer to full than half full.

Anyway, I always try to add something new, so this year I buttressed my argument against concluding a talk with thank you using some video from the Republican and Democratic Conventions.

Governor Christie knows something about speaking, so it was worth noting that he had no thank you at the end of his keynote speech:

Together we will stand up once again for American greatness for our children and grandchildren.  God bless you and God bless America.

No thank you. Instead, Governor Christie used the classic call to arms ending, followed by a benediction.

What about President Clinton, who also knows something about speaking. How did he end his keynote speech?

My fellow Americans, if that is what you want, if that is what you believe, you must vote and you must re-elect President Barack Obama.God bless you and God bless America.

Again, the classic call to arms ending, followed by the same benediction.

 

The common thank you ending isn’t a disaster, but it is a weak move. It signals to some, perhaps many, perhaps subliminally, that the speaker lacks self confidence and feels that the audience has stuck around just to be polite.

If a talk has been good, the speaker has done the audience a favor, not the other way around.

So how do you conclude a technical talk, especially a technical talk that is part of a job application? The call to arms and benediction endings generally won’t work, but you can simply say, “With this summary of my contributions, I have concluded my talk.” Everyone will know you are finished because you will walk over and shake hands with your host, just as the conductor shakes hands with the concert master to signal that the time has come to clap.

{ 0 comments }

Full Circle

by Patrick on December 16, 2012

in Classroom, Learning, Prof. Winston's Ideas

Professor Patrick Henry Winston ’65, SM ’67, PhD ’70

It was quite a semester. More than 300 students showed up in my subject, Introduction to Artificial Intelligence, and through various accidents of nature, I was the only faculty member involved. I wondered, “How can I supply the enrichment normally provided by recitation instructors?”

I decided to sprinkle in what I called right-now lectures. These would be given by people talking about their current research on topics I was introducing in my lectures. So, my students would get organized instruction from me plus inspiration from eight right-now speakers, each of whom is the best in the world at what s/he does. With EDx coming on fast, it occurred to me that inspiration is a big part of the value added when you take a subject taught in person.

Marvin Minsky was the final speaker in the series. I could have introduced him by enumerating all his awards, but I decided to tell a story instead:

   When I was a student, I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so I majored in electrical engineering, which is what people majored in back then when they didn’t know what they wanted to do. We figured we had flexibility, because everything had electrical stuff in it. Not much has changed, except that everything has computer stuff in it, so students major now in EE&CS.

I did know I wanted to understand what went on in my head, so I cast about, learning about psychology from Hans-Lucas Teuber, about neuroanatomy from Wally Nauta, about frogs’ brains from Jerry Lettvin, and about communications from Irwin Jacobs.

All were terrific, but what they did was not exactly what I wanted to do. Then, one day, another student told me about a class in which the professor talked about a program that performed symbolic integration.

So, I went to one of those classes. It wasn’t much like what I was used to—more a genius thinking out loud than a standard lecture. But, at the end, I had it figured out. `I want to do what he does,’ I said to myself.

That was the introduction. Then, Marvin said, “We’ve come full circle. I want to do what you do.” That was the ultimate in positive feedback.

And Marvin was Marvin, a little rambling but a lot of inspiration. Once again, I expect there were students out there in 10-250 thinking, as I had, “I want to do what he does.”

{ 0 comments }

The Periodic Table of Chocolate-dipped Strawberries

by Patrick on November 25, 2012

in Prof. Winston's Ideas, Student Life

Professor Patrick Henry Winston ’65, SM ’67, PhD ’70

One of my students invited me to the AXO Faculty Hour, which featured good conversation and lots of chocolate.

For me, the focal point was the periodic table of chocolate-dipped strawberries, doubtlessly inspired by 3.091 or some other subject where all students are required to memorize Mendeleev’s creation. It was protected by a sign that urged us all to keep our hands off until pictures were taken and everyone had a chance to decide on a preferred element.

A colleague in Course XVI zeroed in on aluminum. “Commonly used in the aero-astro industry,” he said. “You’re Course VI, Computer Science side. Take a semiconductor.”

“Good idea,” I thought, and seized the silicon strawberry.

Where, other than at MIT, would students create a periodic table of chocolate-dipped strawberries? Where, other than MIT, would faculty covet particular chocolate-dipped strawberries?

I can’t think why I would want to be anywhere else.

{ 3 comments }

The 8.03 quiz from hell

by Patrick on November 11, 2012

in Prof. Winston's Ideas, Remember When...

Professor Patrick Henry Winston ’65, SM ’67, PhD ’70

The sky was nicely blue when I drove into Cambridge the other day. “Rayleigh scattering,” I said to myself, and remembered that this is the golden anniversary of the 8.03 quiz from hell in 1962.

I had showed up a year before, soon to be scared to death. Because I came from a high school located in a small town in Illinois, I was easily intimidated. Some of my fellow students seemed to have gone to name-brand prep schools; others went to big city schools with science tracks. For the first several weeks, they all seemed to understand everything, and I felt like I understood nothing.1

As it turned out, fear was good, because I developed good study habits and they didn’t. They hit a wall in six weeks, but I kept going.

Then, when we were sophomores, came the 8.03 quiz from hell. We all had to take four physics subjects in those days, not just the two required today.

The subject was Rayleigh scattering. I had studied hard, but still felt the quiz was difficult.

The details have faded a little, but as I remember it, when my recitation instructor handed me my graded quiz, I saw that I got 27 out of 100.

I cracked. “It has taken more than a year, but I finally have been found out.” I said to myself. “I will fail 8.03. My father will make me go back to East Peoria. I will try to get into one of the community colleges, majoring in who knows what,” I thought. “I will be a disgrace. I will never be able to marry, or have a family.” Finally, worst of all, “He will make me go to law school.”

Then, my instructor announced that the class average was 18, so I was one or two standard deviations above.2 It was just a 30 second roller coaster ride. Life was good again.

1 East Peoria Community High School was a great public school, actually, with inspiring teachers, but it took a while before I realized that.

2 The physics instructors were so mad about our performance, they gave us essentially the same quiz again, two weeks later. Some remember the class average going down. Decades later, I learned that the quiz was made up by physics professors who were not teaching the subject, so our bad performance had a good explanation.

{ 10 comments }

Road trip

by Patrick on October 28, 2012

in Prof. Winston's Ideas, Remember When...

Professor Patrick Henry Winston ’65, SM ’67, PhD ’70

It was scary, that Cuban Missile Crisis, 50 years ago. I was a sophomore at the time, and we all talked about getting vaporized, believing Boston would be a prime target. A fellow sophomore suggested we get out of town, and after thinking about the odds a while, I agreed. Several of us packed into his Volkswagen and headed north.

Hours later, we felt we were safe from the potential nuclear holocaust. We had made it all the way to New Hampshire, after all. Then, a big sign appeared in front of us:

Pease Air Force Base
Strategic Air Command

Feeling pretty stupid, we decided to go home, but on reflection, Pease Air Force Base might have been as safe as any place in the country. The Soviets would have expected that all the B52s were in the air by then.

{ 1 comment }

Welcome to MIT, No Trespassing

by Patrick on October 7, 2012

in Campus Culture, Prof. Winston's Ideas

 

Professor Patrick Henry Winston ’65, SM ’67, PhD ’70

I really don’t understand it. MIT is a welcoming place, with daily waves of tourists photographing the architecture and prospective students, with parents in tow, admiring the classrooms, laboratories, sports facilities, and places to live.

But when the tourists, students, and parents emerge from the MIT-Kendall subway stop, Building 76 looms in front of them, with its conspicuous sign that threatens them with prosecution if they step inside.

 

Lately, just a few feet away, another, less impressively executed sign has been added:

What’s the explanation of the juxtaposition? Many years ago, the scales fell from my eyes when my friend and colleague Professor Silvio Micali answered a question about why a certain government agency was behaving in a certain foolish-sounding way:

“All big organizations are stupid,” he said.

Silvio’s observation explains a lot.

{ 2 comments }

The Archeology of Building 26

by Patrick on July 1, 2012

in Classroom, Prof. Winston's Ideas, Remember When...

Professor Patrick Henry Winston ’65, SM ’67, PhD ’70

A day or two ago, I explained the state of Artificial Intelligence to a group of high school teachers here for the 2012 edition of the MIT Science and Engineering Program for Teachers (STEP), where high school teachers learn about what’s new.

I’ve been part of the program for the past twenty years or so. I think of it as payback for the inspiration I got from my high school physics teacher, Mr. Smith, and my high school algebra teacher, Mr. Gerlach, affectionately known to us students as “Snuffy” and “Hogjaws.” I never got around to thanking them, so I thank each batch of STEP teachers instead.*

My talk was in 26-152, now a room converted to Technology Enhanced Active Learning (TEAL), where students sit at tables and work together to absorb material and solve problems.

It occurred to me that if I stripped off the carpet, I would likely see signs of false floor, because when I showed up at MIT, 26-152 was the home of the IBM 7090, the wonder of its age.

Back then, 26-152 was like a tabernacle. Only priests, also known as operators, were allowed in. Lights blinked. Big tape drives spun. Air conditioners made noise and spewed cold air. Card readers ate card decks by the yard. Important, pioneering programs executed, including the very first AI program that performed at a human level.

Freshmen, like me, would stop at the glass doors and stare in, mesmerized.

MIT’s 7090 had two memories, one for user programs and one for the time-sharing system, both holding 32k words of 36 bits each. So, the 7090 had a little more than 256KB of memory.

I asked the teachers to pull out their iPhones. I noted that each one has more than 100,000 times more memory than the 7090.

If tuition had increased by 100,000 times, MIT would cost $140 million per year. If my laser pointer had 100,000 times more power, I could cut through a half-inch of steel.

Amazing.

* I have long regretted that I never sent a thank-you note to Snuffy or Hogjaws. If someone inspired you back in high school, I know it would make their day, or maybe their year, to hear from you.

{ 5 comments }

The Infinite Connection Advisor

by Patrick on April 1, 2012

in Alumni Life, Prof. Winston's Ideas

Photograph courtesy of Patrica Sampson

Professor Patrick Henry Winston ’65, SM ’67, PhD ’70

These days, whenever you you walk down the Student Street in the Stata Center, you are likely to see students, sitting alone, staring at computer screens, jabbering away with friends and family in myriad foreign tongues, via Skype.

When I was a kid, my parents and I had awkward, monthly, expensive feeling, long-distance telephone calls. Now, I use Skype to work with collegues from California to Istanbul.

For me, Skype is a great enabler, far superior to telephones and email. Somehow, seeing adds a powerful social dimension.

So why not use Skype to help fix MIT’s undergraduate advising problem.

There are points of light, of course. Some departments have effective associate advisor programs; the Alumni Association offers a career-guidance service to alumni; and many FSILGs have alum-engaging mechanisms of various sorts.

Still, the advising problem has been admired, sometimes mitigated, but never fixed, for decades. Not all advisors have been in the nonacademic workforce recently; not all get to know their advisees. Many are spread too thin.

Among those who complain are seniors, soon to become young alumni. So, let’s put together a Skype-based system to create a connection between our students and on-line young alumni, thus putting the young alumni to work on the problem they have been complaining about:

Skype × Alum = Infinite Connection Advisor

By making systematic and intentional connections we might get a highly non-linear return on investment. A systematic and intentional connection is one that involves definite, mediated assignment of students to volunteer alumni, with contact proactively initiated by the alum, rather than a passive offering of a find-it-and-opt-in service.

Infinite Connection Advisors would provide career advice that complements other MIT sources. Young alums are well positioned to describe how they like working in their fields in general; to relate how they like the organizations they work for in particular; to suggest how they have made use of their MIT degrees in both obvious and nonobvious career paths; and to recommend organizations friendly to interns and attractive as long-term employers. A successful program could contribute to lifelong bonds between advisor and advisee, strengthening the alumni interpersonal network.

The idea still sounded good the day after I thought it up, so I tried it on a few people in the obvious places.

Alas, interest, but no traction. So, off to the Arcosanti file it goes, the place on my computer where I put ideas I write up just for discussion and fun.

Editor’s note: Some of the 3,000+ MIT graduates signed up as Institute Career Assistant Network (ICAN) advisors may be using Skype—it’s certainly a great idea. Alumni and students can search the Online Alumni Directory for an ICAN advisor. Interested in sharing your experience? Learn how to become an advisor.

{ 0 comments }

Anytime, anywhere, any pace, any age

by Patrick on January 1, 2012

in Classroom, In the News, Prof. Winston's Ideas

Professor Patrick Henry Winston ’65, SM ’67, PhD ’70

Like all years, it was the best of years and the worst of years. People of future influence were born; people of past influence died. Companies started up; countries almost went broke.

At MIT, it was a special year because we made it to our 150th birthday, and all the celebrating encouraged us to think about the next 150 years. Here is my prediction: MIT will change more in the next 20 years than it has in the past 100. We have to. Our students learn differently. They have the web. They have Skype. They are on line. We have an obligation and an opportunity to change the way we engage with them.

Many of our successes will be exportable. So, I’m betting that if MIT lasts another 150 years, 2011 will be known as the year when the Provost Rafael Reif launched MITx. Here is what he had to say:

Many members of the MIT faculty have been experimenting with integrating online tools into the campus education. We will facilitate those efforts, many of which will lead to novel learning technologies that offer the best possible online educational experience to non-residential learners. Both parts of this new initiative are extremely important to the future of high-quality, affordable, accessible education.

We are going global, and, eventually, you will be able to earn certificates for completing subjects from MIT, anytime, anywhere, at any pace, at any age, and it won’t cost $50,000/year. And perhaps the best part is that we are doing it all open source and inviting other universities to join with us.

Of course, distance education has been around for a long time. What’s new is that technical advances have just about reached a threshold where on-line is not just a poor shadow of the real thing but rather a different thing with relative advantages and disadvantages, just as movies are different from live theater, with relative advantages and disadvantages.

No one has a crystal ball good enough to see what lies on the other side of the coming education revolution. Are we talking about adjustments or starting over? Are we freeing faculty to spend more time with students one-on-one or are we automating the faculty out of work? And of course it is easier to predict the future than it is to predict when it will happen.

{ 0 comments }

The Studio 360 Story

by Patrick on December 18, 2011

in In the News, Prof. Winston's Ideas

Professor Patrick Henry Winston ’65, SM ’67, PhD ’70

I hear my Studio 360 inteview turned out ok.  I attribute that to a sort of aural cosmetology. Jonathan Mitchell came into my office about a month ago, chatted me up for an hour or so, and somehow he and the other geniuses at Public Radio International and WNYC found a few coherent sentences on the tape about my group’s research on story understanding.

Here is the story: As a species, we became symbolic and different from other primates a little more than 50,000 years ago; becoming symbolic meant that we could describe events. Once we strung events together into sequences, we could tell stories. Mastering story telling meant we could teach through case studies, ranging from fairy tales to blogs. Finally, by learning to blend stories together to make new stories, we developed one highly useful kind of creativity. So, if we are to understand intellligence, we need to put a lot of effort into understanding story understanding.

{ 0 comments }

← Previous Entries