Pluto Should Never Have Been a Planet

I just finished reading Mike Brown's How I Killed Pluto and Why it had it Coming, and it was a fantastic read.  It got me thinking of so many things; scientific progress and history, how the public perceives scientific ideas, becoming entrenched in a way of thinking, distress over change, and how so much of education seems to be storing data in memory rather than learning algorithms (and man for some reason I've really been connecting with my inner computer scientist lately) are just some of the highlights.  It's amazing how much depth there is to the trivial or technical classification details of a rock out there past Neptune.  There's one more aspect of the book that I loved, Mike Brown's humanity in his love for his wife, his daughter, and the sky, but I think I'll write about that in detail later.

I remember when Pluto was reclassified.  Many jokingly consoled forlorn Pluto, kicked out of the planet club by the big boys.  After reading the book I find it odd, why did no one talk about Eris (the Kuiper belt object actually larger than Pluto which theoretically could have been the tenth planet)?  Why did no one bring up Charon, Pluto's moon which is almost as large as Pluto?  Why did no one discuss what exactly it meant to be a planet, and how exciting it was that we were learning more about our solar system in finding so much out there in a whole new asteroid belt out beyond the gas giants, the aforementioned Kuiper belt?

I've groused before on this blog about the dreadful way mathematics is taught, perhaps it's time to get some of that ire up for science as well.  One thing the book made clear is that we all learned that the planets are Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and (as we learned at least) Pluto.  Did any of us ever learn what a planet is?  I think the 'Pluto controversy' pretty clearly indicates no, we didn't.  If we had we would have always found Pluto's planethood a little odd.

Pluto's moon doesn't orbit around it, they orbit around each other.  Pluto's orbit is eccentric from the other planets.  Pluto is smaller than many planet's moons, including Earth's.  To kids and creatives that might make Pluto mysterious and fascinating (it did to Mike Brown as a child), but to scientists and logical thinkers it seems misplaced in the solar system.  And indeed it was.

But no one really seemed to feel that way.  We all sort of felt bad for Pluto, and some people might have even been upset.  I think there's two major components why.  The first is, as I alluded to, the way we learn science.  The next is our unwillingness to accept change.

Thinking about the Pluto controversy I am brought to worry that we are often taught 'the way things are'.  Mike Brown talks about trying to get students out of the mindset of, "Give me the answers I need to know for the test".  The unfortunate implication is that something gets them into this mindset in the first place.  Standardized testing is a convenient and popular target for modern problems in education, but I'd feel remiss if I didn't mention that of necessity it requires students to memorize and later regurgitate facts, and testing any deeper thought processes is at the very least much more difficult.

I read a NYT article that talked about why teaching the difference between fact and opinion like we currently do in schools is morally perilous, as well as simply fundamentally misguided.  It points out interesting ideas, like how teaching children that facts are provable and true causes them to equate truth with provability, even though they're very different things.  I think a focus on 'facts' in science class also carries a dogmatic implication for young students.  Science is always true because we collected evidence for our ideas.  Here's where the distress comes up; Pluto no longer being a planet means facts can change as our understanding does.

And that opens up a whole new can of worms in our minds.  It forces introspection and meta-cognition, in which sadly most of us are loath to participate.  It creates a crisis of certainty, because after all if Pluto being a planet isn't true what other tidbits we learned might not be true?  Doubt is, unfortunately, scary to many.  We're unwilling to change our thinking, to update our knowledge, to print retractions or errata for our memories.  This is why teachings of humility are so important.  They allow us to maintain our sense of self and identity even when we're forced to change our thinking, context, or experience.

A great idea that came together for me when I read The Island of Knowledge is that science must necessarily be the least sure of itself of all human endeavors or reservoirs of understanding.  It must be forever willing to except new evidence or observation which proves previous ideas wrong, and moreover perhaps must forever be seeking these out.  No less than the well known and liked Neil DeGrasse Tyson recently said in a podcast I listened to that the greatest problem is always dogmatism, because it ends a conversation and makes learning from others difficult or impossible.  Let's take this to heart, accept that Pluto should never have been a planet, and rejoice in the fascinating newly unfolding mysteries of that Kuiper belt.

Crying About Mathematics

I recently saw this image posted on Facebook and then looked at the last 3 posts from Grammarly, the original poster.  We have a think piece on whether universities should require writing proficiency for graduation, a joke about precision and exactitude in grammar standards leading to vandalism (with indications that that's at least understandable) and a prettied up quote from John Dewey that, "Education is not the preparation for life; it is life itself."  That last one is particularly interesting in contrast with this image and it leads to the obvious implication that what they really mean is, "Education (in the arts, humanities, and soft sciences) is deeply fulfilling and enriches life to the point of making it worth living, but of course we know technical sciences and mathematics are just painful things to be suffered through."

This is probably a good example of why US culture is so innumerate (the numerical equivalent to illiterate, a term coined by John Allen Paulos) and inept at scientific thought.  This is where we get the reflex of credibility toward the phrases "experts say" or "studies show" or the news stories that butcher or manipulate statistics to serve whatever purpose hits the emotional agenda of the story.  I'll be the first to admit (and then probably go on a tirade about the problem for however long you listen plus ten minutes) that our mathematics education is just heinous and obsolete to a point that would be absurd if it weren't so damaging and dangerous.  With that said the solution is certainly not to perpetuate the idea that these things are hard, stressful, and just generally unpleasant.

I've written here before about the nobility and importance of mathematics, and this one won't be the last time I do, so perhaps I'm just belaboring an idea, but I'm going to list out some of mathematics' virtues anyway.

• Math is Mind Expanding: Mathematics deals with concepts that can go beyond normal human experience.  How often do you work with the infinite?  Did you know there were several different sizes of infinity, and that some infinities are larger than others?  I had a very serious discussion with some family and friends recently about dimensional figures and the nature of God.  I wear a metal Möbius band (a strip that has only one side, yes really) on a necklace that was given to me by my wife.
• Math is Humbling: The humanities are important largely because they teach us to think emotionally, form opinions, and understand the human experience.  Math, and the sciences (though perhaps to a lesser degree), teach us to think rationally, examine our ideas, and understand the world around us and, yes, the human experience as well.  In mathematics one thing must strictly follow from the last and we must learn to abide by the rules of the operations we're performing.  We can form and idea or an opinion just as easily as we can in any humanities class, but then we're told to really look at that, to see if it makes sense in context, and it can become starkly clear when it's not.  Humanities often remind us that how we perceive and judge the world around us matters.  Mathematics, and the sciences, remind us that the laws of systems (like the universe) don't just bend to our will because we think we have a better idea of how things should be.
• Math Teaches Self Awareness: Like my last point, the requirements within mathematics that we "stay within the lines" as we progress form one thought to the next in our process of proving, computing, or deriving new information means we need to learn to watch our thoughts, and see where they fail to stay consistent with our principles.  Learning how we think, how one thought in the mind springs from the last and whether that process is working properly or in need of reform is pretty clearly an invaluable skill that will better society if widespread.

So if math is so wonderful, why is it so often denigrated, like in the image above depicting it as something that is sure to spawn sadness and strife sufficient to stimulate sobbing?  Why is this far from the first post to the effect of, "Ooh math really sucks, don't you all agree?" that has gotten shared around?  Why do people flaunt their ignorance or lack of active engagement in mathematics with phrases like, "I totally forgot how any of that stuff works, but hey I'm never going to use it again, right?"  Why does that receive knowing chuckles and appreciative nods instead of the derision or contemplative sadness such ignorance or loss of talent should garner ("I can't remember a thing about the Civil War, but who cares?  I'm not becoming a historian," "I used to be able to play the oboe, but now I can hardly even remember the basic fingerings," "Why did I even do all of that reading in high school?  I never ended up being in a Shakespeare play or even going to one.")?

Well, there are systematic problems.  Like I said we teach math horribly (in the US at least), especially at the elementary level which means that when children are forming their emotional understandings they learn early that math is something hard and to be feared.  It doesn't help that so many who shape the culture are also the worst at mathematics and mathematical thinking.  Still, none of these jabs at "that painful and useless old field, math" seem to present solutions or even raise awareness about the problems of media misrepresentation or the need for educational STEM reform.

I've been told that it's about thinking differently, that the jokes are just trying to say, "Oh man, my brain sure doesn't work that way," but mathematicians and scientists aren't sharing Facebook memes about how useless writing and art are.  The most I've seen are more along the lines of, "Boy it's really frustrating how misrepresented we are and how poorly understood and distorted our work is when presented for public consumption."  Also, I don't really buy that our thinking is all that different.  When I tutored mathematics the problem really seemed to be more about attitude.  People didn't put effort into learning or doing mathematics because they thought it was hard, boring, or just not important to them.  With effort they picked up the concepts just fine, but the attitudes that surround math made them reticent in putting forth that effort.

Math students have often been taught in what one teacher of mine referred to as the GMTED or the "Give Me The Equation, D***it!" mindset.  Try to discuss the concepts behind the figures, the real meaning of the numbers and symbols and they shut down and demand you give them a simple formula so they can mechanically plug numbers in.  Math education is too often a "human programming" job, using drills, memorization, and routines to create humans that will carry out operations to compute a value.  This must change, but can't if people believe that actually thinking about math is something they're incapable of because, "their brain just doesn't work that way."

So I beg of you, respect mathematics.  Let's leave behind the antiquated views of math as prima facie unappealing as we leave behind the systems that have made thousands fail to understand the beauty and wisdom it contains.  Let's elevate our understanding of ourselves by doing meditative mathematics.  Let's elevate our understanding of the universe by understanding the language in which God wrote it.  Let's create a society that values this great field of human thought and endeavor that's gifted us the computer, engineering, and so much more.  Let's create an intellectualism that, to paraphrase the apocryphal inscription above Plato's Academy, lets none but mathematicians enter; not out of elitism or to exclude readers, writers, artists, and other so-called non-math people but in recognition that a complete philosopher will be mathematician in addition to artist, reader, theologian, writer, and more as he or she embraces all the many worthy areas of endeavor in the vast yet limited expanse of human knowledge.

From an Aspiring Medical Professional

I've always been a scientist.  Some of my earliest memories are wanting to use beakers, test tubes, & microscopes in school.  My mother tells me that one of my favorite toys as a child was an old radio I was allowed to disassemble and rebuild, being fascinated at how the pieces fit together.  I've always seen science as exciting and fun.  For most of the time that I understood the concept I've seen it as a noble pursuit as well.  "The glory of God is intelligence," I was taught, and science is a rigorous pursuit of understanding.

I've learned since then about the very human nature of this endeavor.  Learned things like how Newton's preference for a 'corpuscular' or particle theory of light, rather than the wave theory which works better, probably set back the field of optics a century or two, but few wanted to propose ideas that would dare contradict the great and powerful Newton.  I've learned this about religion, philosophy, sports, families, and just about everything else humans do as well, though.  These days science may have trouble acknowledging its limitations, but it does good and improves the human condition.  And yet the ranks of those who share this view are suffering loses.

This seems mostly in the field of medicinal and health sciences.  This rarely used to bother me, but it is more and more lately.  Maybe it's because I'm getting older and the issues are closer to affecting me and involving choices I'll have to make.  Maybe it's just because things that were more fringe in the past are getting talked about more these days.  Maybe it's because part of me agrees that this field of science is a lot more blurry than the physics and mathematics I originally studied, but entering into the field I'm seeing the strength of the science.  I'd be remiss not to have mentioned these possibilities in a writing about science, rigor, and emotion, but I don't think they're the reason.  At least not the primary one.

I am an aspiring medical professional.  I'm going into radiography or clinical laboratory science, depending on which program accepts me and a few other factors.  I feel like scientific thinkers, which would include many medical professionals and certainly myself, rarely make effective arguments that would entice someone not scientifically inclined to rethink their ideas.  This is likely because anecdotes, emotional pleas, and pithy quips will not change the fundamental forces of nature and therefore aren't the first thing reached for in scientists' mental toolboxes.  So it feels odd for me to speak about my emotional and personal reactions in the context of understanding biomedical science, but it may be just what some need to hear.

There always seems to be an edge of accusation toward the medical profession by those that eschew its methods.  It's difficult for me to say this as I don't believe it's intentional, but it is the truth.  The message is that the medical profession, and therefore medical professionals, is a bumbling ignoramus unwilling to understand the simple truths that should be instinctively understood, a shadowy or scaremongering elite seeking only power and control, or an uncaring power more interested in processing patients to collect their checks than healing them.  It may be some combination of the three, but these are the primary narratives with their implications laid bare and made plain.

I believe they are all wrong, but moreover I know they are all insulting.  I think this might be why I've been more affected by those who leave the ranks of accepted science for other conceptions of fulfilling medicine.  The secret message in those actions, words, and thoughts are that I don't care about my patients.  I do care about my patients, and I don't even have any yet.  I study hard and ensure I understand the concepts of my classes because I worry about making the wrong call and endangering someone's health.  I've listened to opposing views, considered the ideas, and always been unconvinced that those methods and practices would best serve the sick or the healthy.  I want to get paid for application of the skills I'm acquiring, sure, but I did when I worked other customer service positions as well and was still driven to serve the client.  When I see someone taking medical risks I'm annoyed because so often those risks are unnecessary, and I care about them.  So, from an aspiring medical professional, please reexamine your ideas if you're forgoing modern medicine.  Please give me and my ilk the benefit of the doubt and some level of trust.  We're absolutely doing our best to deserve that much.

Imagination and Knowledge

After my last post I decided I want to write another one this month, since I like to cool off and give any readers I might have a break when I go on tears about technology, law, and society.  I didn't have a good topic that I wanted to talk about, though, so I asked my wife what she thought I should write on.  She provided a one word prompt: imagination.  I decided to go with this, but having something so broad I needed to keep looking.  A few internet searches later I happened upon some Einstein quotes around, Imagination is more important than knowledge."  In that way I have I said to myself, "¿Is it?" and then I realized I had a topic for a post.

I think considering imagination and knowledge more important than one another is actually a little misguided.  They're different entities that have different purposes and bring differing benefits to a person or society.  It's like saying hammers are more important than saws or potatoes are more important than chairs.  And we can often get by with only one.  But, these are two forces that gain the greatest power when working together.

Knowledge is a foundation.   Knowledge tells us how the world and things in it work, how to do things, and how things are connected.  Imagination gives us the capability to see how these facts could be different, improved, or superseded.  But using imagination rarely can make a strong impact if we're without the knowledge to back this up.  Knowledge lets us reasonably examine the ways in which the things we imagine might play out, so that when we try to put those things we imagine into reality the chance that we're successful is higher.

My love for Star Trek was recently re-kindled by a collection of online reviews of works in the franchise and one thing that's been striking is that one of the most impressive things about the franchise was its ability to imagine the future in a very different yet very reasonable way.  Social issues such as race, ethnicity, and sex becoming less important to a team that works together.   Also, amazingly, the science of instantaneous point to point transportation, faster than light travel, and futuristic weaponry (though it was changed later, the original meaning of the term "phaser" was "photonic maser" which, while actually redundant since the microwaves a maser produces are made up of photons, points toward the laser which does indeed exist and could be weaponized).  Many of the high points of the series' are when this works to add believably and a feeling of reality to the impossible,and failures of the series often occur thanks to imagination being backed up by too little knowledge.

Grow up

After working with kids at a summer camp for a little while I began to think about what maturity is. What is it that these kiddos lack that makes them kids. The answer I came up with was impulse control. The kiddos just weren't skilled enough in calming those emotional flare ups or dropping a silly argument. Hence, "Why'd you hit him?" "He said I didn't like marshmallows" or "Why're you so stupid, stars don't have rings. It's physically impossible" "Well, I dunno I'm gonna look anyway." "No, you're wrong, that'd dumb..." "Guys, quit fighting!" Of course in the discussion comes the inevitable acknowledgement: some adults don't have very good impulse control. I think we usually call these people jerks, annoying, downers, or some other of the vast collection of disparaging nomenclature. Controling your emotions is necessary for getting along well with others.
There is more rewards to emotional control than a good social life, though. It's a good life, and moreover, power to act for ourselves (free will, if you go for that term). Hear me out, Emotions are brought on by outside forces. A big scary bear makes us afraid. A bouquet of flowers makes us delighted. A new computer game makes us excited.
After those examples you might say, "but Devon, I like being delighted and excited. Me too, but it might not always be the best thing. If I buy portal (which I just did, finally, by the way) and I'm so excited I start playing and don't stop until the first week of school is over, effectively destroying any opportunity for academic achievement I have for the semester, that's obviously not good. I also loose the opportunity for other exciting experiences, such as learning and in the future obtaining a good job. If my shallow ex-girlfriend who cheated on me twice and continually criticized and spoke hurtfully towards me sent me flowers and I decide, "Oh she sent me flowers that's so nice I'm going to get back with her!" my net delight will be negative (I can feel myself getting back into physics student mode!). What if the flowers are indicative of a change of heart for this wanton woman, and renewal of relationship would do good for the both of us? Well, it still isn't smart for me to just run back. I might be happy and thinking the best of her, but wisdom dictates that I take care when reviving the connection we had. First, I don't know this is the case, and past experience indicates that it won't be good for me. Secondly, she may need me to be on guard. In reviving a relationship it would be sagely of me to go in stronger than before, ready for the maladies before heaped upon me, and setting boundaries and rules of conduct between us so that she knows how to improver herself around me and I am clear about what I want in our relationship. If learn to overcome these initial reactions and rule our feelings with our mind we can increase the happiness, peace, and whatever other good thing you want to put there (I was going to put joy, but it sounded too cute and trite "happiness peace and joy!").
So, let's be clear, emotions are good. Just like water is good. I see our emotional systems to be like indoor plumbing. There's a system of valves that we need to control, letting reason dictate the flow of each pipe. If we simply let each bubble over we'll quickly drown in our passing sentiments.