get my doctorate and become a professor

I’m now two weeks into semester #3. I changed a whole lot of variables, and this new experience has indeed been very different than the previous two.

I transferred from the Math department to Computer Science. I crashed the orientation of the Informatics department and found that their subject matter actually does fit very well with my interests, so I chose my classes on the assumption that I am getting a Ph.D. in Informatics. I went on a lab tour, and met two professors who are doing work that might be a perfect fit with what I want to do. This semester, I’m taking only readings courses, where you read a few papers every week and write reaction pieces and that sort of thing. I’ve also been sitting in on a course about translations of Eugene Onegin, which is a refreshing departure into art and language.

My current frustrations:

1. Still an awful lot of context-switching. I want to focus on something, and the academic schedule chops up attention. Each topic requires immersion and sustained focus: say, a few days or a week. Breaking this focus a couple times a day is agonizing. I feel like my creativity and intelligence are shut down, and I’m getting a bit crabby. Nowhere near to the degree of last semester, happily, but it’s still frustrating. The rhythm of my life here does not fit me.

I notice the focus-chopping even in the lab where I am an assistant instructor. Each lab gets 50 minutes in the students’ schedule. That’s not enough time to get very far. The students are thus pressured to hurry. These labs really require several hours, but the students have many other demands on their time. I learned programming by writing tens of thousands of lines of code, in hundreds of little projects of my own design, all very patiently, in sessions that usually lasted many hours—sometimes a couple hours just making notes with pencil and paper, sometimes many hours at the keyboard. Come to think of it, I actually dropped out of high school in order to get the time to do this; even high school had too much of a hurry-up-and-do-something-else rhythm.

2. The classes mostly consist of lecture and discussion. The discussions are mostly unstructured semantic arguments. Someone says something, someone else objects that a word could also mean something else: “But isn’t (blank) also a kind of ‘realism’?” This kind of word-splitting at the expense of substance is what gives the academic world a bad name. Deservedly.

I want to do actual stuff. Discussing and arguing are certainly worthwhile things, but only in small doses, and only with some structure. Real learning happens mostly by doing, and it’s most fruitful with a mentor who can help you get unstuck when you run into problems, or show you an approach you’re missing. I’ve seen some of this in college, but not a whole lot.

An observation: In one class, a very broad term came up. The handout said that the first thing we need to do is make a definition. What? The first thing is to look at some interesting concrete examples that motivated people to distinguish something that they thought worthy of a name. Starting with vague definitions of a vague term just led to vague semantic arguments with no real substance. I think this is the basic trap of the academic world: predefining and pre-arguing and preparing, but not doing.

Running through the major literature and writing short reaction papers to the readings does strike me as a very good use of time, though. It’s getting me up to speed on what sorts of ideas “go without saying” in this community.

3. I met Douglas Hofstadter. We had some conversations in which it became clear that our interests overlap extraordinarily. Well, this is not such a surprise, given that when I was 16, I immersed myself in Gödel, Escher, Bach (back when I had time to get immersed in things). I also really liked the cultural vibe of his research group: warm, slow-paced and absorbed, thoughtful, genuine. Tuesday, we had another long conversation, in which I asked how I might convert some of these interests into a project that would yield some sort of result. That is, I want to move past “thinking interesting but vague thoughts” and make something: a research paper, a computer model, or something, since I don’t yet have a feel for what academic research really is. I could not seem to get the idea across to him. He seemed to think that I was pushing some dismally careerist approach that would make certain that I’d get hired as a professor after grad school. Maybe I misunderstood him; maybe he’s been criticized for doing work that doesn’t fit the standard “metrics” of academic productivity and he heard my request as pressing on a sore spot.

At one point, he said, “Last week, I was thinking you might be a good fit for my research group, but now I’m not so sure.” I sent him a long email a couple days later, telling my frustration. Haven’t heard back. Maybe I’ve just ticked him off some more. I’m worried that I’ve just blown the best opportunity in academia to pursue my quirky set of research interests.

On the positive side, he expressed his doubts about whether I belong in his research group when it came out that I had only read parts of his book Fluid Concepts and Creative Analogies, which tells exactly what his research group does, how they do it, and even the software architecture that they use to do it. I’ve been reading it, and my jaw drops at how relevant it is to my interests, how enlightening about matters where I’ve gotten stuck, and how it opens up new lines of thought for me.

Second semester was hell. Horrible difficulties concentrating most of the time. “Noise in my head.” One of the most unpleasant experiences of my life.

The good: I’m surrounded by interesting research, and I’m taking classes that I find very interesting, all taught by professors that I like.

The bad: Time-fragmentation. Each of my classes requires thought—the kind that can’t be rushed. At least, they require large blocks of time. My day, though, consisted of going from class to class, with occasional one- or two-hour breaks. I pretty much never found time to sit down and really work. I still haven’t found a comfortable place to work.

Each week, noise in my head started to accumulate. By Thursday evening, I was hearing the din of a restaurant in my head wherever I went. One night, I sat in my car in total silence all around, and just listened. I heard the restaurant din, a cicada-like buzz that slowly increased and decreased, and my mind kept jumping to something else every second or so. This “jumping” went on relentlessly throughout the semester, making it pretty much impossible to concentrate.

Real Analysis: I managed to complete one homework assignment the entire semester. I studied a bunch before the final, and somehow got an ‘A’.

Programming Languages: A great class. Each class session, the prof tells you a super-hard problem, of the sort that made history when someone first solved it. In some cases, no one had ever solved it before. It’s not enough to get a right answer; it must also be beautiful. Whichever student has the shortest answer gets to explain it on the blackboard. I completed three homework assignments. One of those, I did over the break. Another one, after the semester was over, on an Incomplete. Doing homework during the semester was just too hard, due to the noise and non-stop mental interruption.

Machine Learning: Another excellent class. I got to write the first draft of my main research idea—a chance to try it out and see where the difficulties are. I got it done, but I didn’t do nearly as much as I liked. This is the sort of thing where I need to spend a week or so working on it eight hours a day. Not compatible with the grad-school schedule.

The algebra class I taught was also demoralizing. That might have done the most to destroy my concentration: lots of noise and interruptions. Also, it was simply demoralizing to be around people so lacking in curiosity, so unwilling to approach the class in good faith. The class was an unpleasant fight between me and the students, for the most part (there were a few happy exceptions).

I find myself pretty much unable to think. I can’t stand to read anymore. I can’t remember new names and words and facts anything like I could before I started grad school. I can’t speak nearly as well as I used to. Now I struggle to find words that used to come easily. I can’t focus my mind or follow a train of thought. I feel like I’ve been knocked semiconscious by a steel girder. There was almost no joy or pleasure in my life during this semester. I was unproductive. I was no fun to be around. It was a bleak, rotten time.

I find myself doubting whether I want anything to do with the academic world. College classes are a really stupid, ineffective way to learn. The time-fragmentation schedule is insane. The research, though, is great. Being part of the community of people who care about understanding for the sake of understanding is great. But can anything this relentlessly agonizing possibly lead to anything but more agony?

First semester was hell. Headache and exhaustion, followed by a long march of catching up on three classes.

Recursion Theory: I didn’t hand in about half of the homework, but I think I did a good job on the take-home final. Well, that’s my only explanation for somehow getting an A-.

Real Analysis: I was consistently late on the homework, but I handed in all but two. I did very well on the first exam (which most people did badly on), badly on the second exam (which most people did well on), and I think I did OK on the final exam. Got a B, the minimal acceptable grade for a grad student. This was a senior-level course, so I narrowly missed catastrophe here.

Programming Languages: I only completed about 1/3 of the assignments. I finished the one “required assignment” (must complete, or no passing grade) on the last day. This one required giving a demo—which was really an oral exam to show that you understand wha’s going on. Just as the demo was ending, the prof walked in and asked me why I hadn’t done so much of the homework. I told him about my headache and exhaustion. He gave me an Incomplete, with a deadline of January 10. This is really good news. I can finish the last few assignments over the break, and be very well prepared for the follow-up course next semester.

Did I learn much? By school standards, I learned a lot: I picked up the basic concepts of Recursion Theory, I learned the basics of Scheme (a very strange programming language), and I learned some genuinely new and profound programming techniques. I don’t think I learned a lot in Real Analysis that I can articulate; I just got more practice and facility with it.

It looks like I can teach the next semester of remedial algebra (perfect research for one of those interesting books), and take:

• an idiosyncratic course in using the Scheme programming language in bizarre ways, taught by the one professor on Earth who is thinking along a the same research direction to mine (he even used my exact phrasing of it in class last week!)

• a reading course in cognitive science, getting up to speed on the main deep ideas in that field

• a course on symbolic learning systems

Yes, this all looks like the fun kind of stuff I’ve been wanting that was the reason I started grad school and chose this school.

Big lesson learned from this semester (and the entire last year, really): getting enough rest is actually the #1 priority, above grades, above completing grad school, even above learning. Without that, everything else cascades into lateness and deeper exhaustion. Well-rested, the challenges of grad school are enjoyable to meet, not a drag.

Another big lesson: In grad school, at least in math, most professors assign you more homework than you are expected to complete. In other words, it’s no big deal to hand in homework that isn’t completely done. I don’t like this teaching strategy, but now I know how to work with it: set a time limit for each problem set, and whatever doesn’t get done by then, doesn’t get done. This assures time in the evening to think, rest, play, and, especially, actively indulge curiosity about the subject (the main thing I miss from, er, not being in school).

Heard something interesting from a classmate who is doing both cog sci and math: that in math, you spend years taking classes before you even see a research problem, but in cog sci, you start into research right away.

That sounds more my style: dive in and learn as you go, apprentice-style.

Whew, it’s helped a bunch to have five days without school. I haven’t caught up on homework yet (I think that’s impossible at this point), but I got one assignment done. It was a pleasure just to focus on one thing for five consecutive days.

I think each of these courses could be done in a month, enjoyably, in more depth, and leading to retaining more knowledge, if they were done one or two at a time instead of all concurrently for four months. Such an inefficient system! But that’s how it is.

There’s been some good, there’s been some bad. On balance, grad school so far has been a drag.

The good: The classes are all interesting topics, taught well. I’m teaching algebra, and that’s going well.

The bad: I’m doing mediocre work in everything and not enjoying it, mostly because I’m exhausted and partly because of switching so much from one class to another. Life is basically unpleasant 24/7.

I’m too exhausted, really, to think about anything. Haven’t done much for the last couple weeks.

I’ve been doing grad school for about six weeks now. I can’t say that I’m enjoying it. The classes I’m taking all interest me. What I’m finding a drag is the time-fragmentation: I switch between classes so frequently, my mind doesn’t really settle into any of them, and I usually have a feeling of rushing and “mental scramble”. It’s hard to focus on anything.

Partly this is due to my starting off the semester in a state of exhaustion and having severe headaches. But partly I think this is just the nature of the game. Happily, I haven’t had a long-lasting headache in the last two weeks.

A few days ago, I decided to put a moratorium on homework. I would just stop until my brain settled down again and I could focus. If I fail all my classes, that’s better than spending the rest of the semester in a scrambled state. Yesterday, with a clear mind, I did a week’s worth of homework in real analysis in about 6 hours.

I still haven’t unpacked. My stuff is all in boxes. There’s no time for that. On the weekend, I left a pen in a pocket in some pants in the laundry, and the ink got all over lots of clothes. I find clothes-shopping time-consuming and unpleasant. My time is already squeezed to the limit.

I think the way college is set up is just dumb. So many competing demands on time, where each demand requires focus, means that very little learning happens. People get into that frame of mind where they hurry through everything and then forget it. I learned more computer science in six months at a real job than people learn in four years getting a computer science degree. And I still remember it all, 20 years later.

One thing I am enjoying is teaching my algebra class. I’m finally getting to try out lots of ideas I’ve had for teaching. I’m seeing stuff actually get results, and I enjoy the “performance” and the interaction.

I’m now one week into my first semester as a grad student. I still have the headache and exhaustion that I’ve had most of the time since I got to Indiana. Haven’t been able to concentrate much. Just missed my first homework assignment in one class. Getting behind in a math class is just about the worst thing you can do (well, the worst thing in a math class), and I’ve just done it the first week.

I’m still waiting for the movers to arrive (I have no bed yet), and the hot water in my apartment is not working. I moved my cat to the new apartment Sunday night, and he’s kept me up meowing the last two nights. Ecch.

On the positive side, the algebra course I’m teaching is giving me lots of stimulation for ideas about how to teach algebra.

My first two weeks here have been rough.

Attending lectures and problem-solving sessions for the Tier 1 exams reminded me of how pointless so much of math seems to me. I don’t think it really is pointless; I mean, my understanding of it does not include “how does this plug into the rest of math (and the rest of the world)”. Consequently, I have forgotten almost everything from my two years as an undergrad. I have found it very hard to get answers to questions like, “What good is uniform continuity?” I started having doubts about whether solving meaningless puzzles is really how I want to spend the next year. I could get back in the car and drive home, and start in comp sci next year.

The heat and humidity of Indiana hit me much harder than I expected. I spent most of my first week walking around feeling exhausted and lethargic. Within a couple days, I got a headache: the same muscle-tension headache that I had almost every day for two years when I was doing the undergrad. I was able to handle an undergrad course load with the headache, but there’s no way I could do grad-level work with this headache. I know the cause and cure, though. The cause is wearing a backpack, and the cure is a professional massage. I bought a backpack with rollers (not really a back pack), and got two massages. That got rid of the headache. I had two really good days and started feeling eager to get going again.

Then the headache came back, though not as strong. I think it’s being triggered by the mattress I’ve been sleeping on. It’s a twin mattress, and just doesn’t feel comfortable. My back muscles tense up when I lie down on it. My back doesn’t seem to trust the mattress: it is constantly on the ready to keep me from falling off. I’ve woken up each morning feeling horrible, like having an all-day hangover each day. Playing disc golf in the evenings has helped, though.

I met my advisor and told him my situation. He is working within mathematics, but he is interested in using mathematics to “look outward” (his words) at the world and even social phenomena. His work straddles computer science and cognitive science. He is a kindred spirit. I told him about my situation and interests, and he pretty much suggested that I belong in comp sci and cog sci—the same conclusion that I had reached. He described real analysis and abstract algebra (the majority of my likely coursework for the next year if I stay in math) as “cultural literacy for mathematicians” and “classical training” analogous to jazz musicians studying classical music theory.

I met a student who is doing a joint Ph.D. in math and cognitive science. I had considered this myself, but decided to hold off committing to it until I was sure I could handle a double load like that. She told me what the requirements were, and about her own experiences doing it for one year. An interesting observation she made: in math, you take courses for years before you do any research; in cog sci, everyone starts doing research right away. Hmm. I’d like to do research right away.

Two professors have been giving lectures on analysis and algebra in a Jump Start program to help introduce you to grad-level math as well as prepare you for the Tier 1 exams. I’ve found these professors inspiring. I’ve only followed about 20% of the material, but it’s been great to finally see an overview of how these subjects fit together. I feel demoralized when math looks like nothing but meaningless puzzle-solving. These lectures reminded me that math is really about tuning in to the deep structure of things, finding a way to see the simplicity within complexity. They reminded me of why I got interested in math, just when I needed to be reminded.

After a week, I finally settled into doing the Ph.D. I started looking for apartments. I have been spending most of my scarce non-groggy waking time searching for apartments and making arrangements with movers. That hasn’t left much time for studying.

The Tier 1 exams are next week. I will surely fail both of them. That’s OK. You’re not really expected to pass them when you arrive. I’m still irritated, though, because I think four weeks of full-time study (with someone to answer my “why is this important?” questions) is really all I need to pass them both. Even studying with a headache for only an hour or two a day, I’m making rapid progress. Oh well, I’ll be taking the analysis course for people who aren’t ready to pass the analysis exam.