Methodology – Page 22 – artdiamondblog.com

Academic Entrepreneurs in a Toxic Wasteland

The Berkeley Pit was once a copper mine, and now holds a lake of toxic waste. Source of photo: online version of the NYT article quoted and cited below.

Here are a few paragraphs from a fascinating story about a couple of people who seem to be practicing what Taleb is preaching in The Black Swan:

BUTTE, Mont. — Death sits on the east side of this city, a 40-billion-gallon pit filled with corrosive water the color of a scab. On the opposite side sits the small laboratory of Don and Andrea Stierle, whose stacks of plastic Petri dishes are smeared with organisms pulled from the pit. Early tests indicate that some of those organisms may help produce the next generation of cancer drugs.

From death’s soup, the Stierles hope to coax life.

“I love the idea of looking at toxic waste and finding something of value,” said Ms. Stierle, 52, a chemistry researcher at Montana Tech of the University of Montana.

For decades, scientists assumed that nothing could live in the Berkeley Pit, a hole 1,780 feet deep and a mile and a half wide that was one of the world’s largest copper mines until 1982, when the Atlantic Richfield Company suspended work there. The pit filled with water that turned as acidic as vinegar, laced with high concentrations of arsenic, aluminum, cadmium and zinc.

. . .

Mr. Stierle is a tenured professor at Montana Tech, but his wife gets paid only for teaching an occasional class or if there is a grant to finance her research. From 1996 to 2001 they applied for dozens of grants, but received only rejection letters. So they financed their own research, using personal savings and $12,000 in annual patent royalty payments. In 2001, they won a six-year, $800,000 grant from the United States Geological Survey.

“Their work is considered a very high-risk approach,” said Matthew D. Kane, a program director at the National Science Foundation. “It takes a long time to get funding, and some luck to find active compounds.”

Unlike scientists at large research universities, who commonly teach only one class a year and employ graduate students to run their laboratories, Mr. Stierle teaches four classes each semester at a college with 2,000 undergraduates and no major research presence.

. . .

The couple said they were negotiating privately with a pharmaceutical company to test some of the compounds they have discovered and possibly turn them into drugs. As they wait, they open another Mason jar filled with murky pit water, draw a sample and return to work.

“The pit very easily could have been a complete waste of time,” Mr. Stierle said. “We just had luck and worked our butts off. We take that first walk into the dark.”

For the full story, see:

CHRISTOPHER MAAG. "In the Battle Against Cancer, Researchers Find Hope in a Toxic Wasteland." The New York Times (Tues., October 9, 2007): A21.

(Note: ellipses added.)

In the photo immediately above, Don and Andrea Steirle work in their lab. The map to the left shows the location of the Berkeley Pit. Source of the photo and map: online version of the NYT article quoted and cited above.

Thales of Miletus Lives

Source of book image: http://store.43folders.com/books-3-1400063515-The_Black_Swan_The_Impact_of_the_Highly_Improbable

This is part entertaining rant and part serious epistemology. I’ve finished 9 of 19 chapters so far–almost all of my reading time spent smiling.

Historians of Greek philosophy used to tell the story of one of the first philosophers, Thales of Miletus, that he once was watching the stars, and fell into a well. The citizens of Miletus made fun of him being an impractical philosopher. To prove them wrong, he used his knowledge to corner the market in something, and made a fortune.

Not a very plausible story, but appealing to us philosophers. (Like Thales, we like to think we could all be rich, if we didn’t have higher goals.)

Well apparently Taleb is the real Thales. He wanted to be a philosopher, got rich on Wall Street using his epistemological insights, and is now using his wealth to finance his musings on whatever he cares to muse on.

Beautiful!

Here’s an amusing sentence that broadened my grin. (It was even more amusing, and profound, in context, but I don’t have time to type in the context for you.)

(p. 87) If you are a researcher, you will have to publish inconsequential articles in "prestigious" publications so that others say hello to you once in a while when you run into them at conferences.

Reference for the book:

Taleb, Nassim Nicholas. The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable. New York: Random House, 2007.

Sherwin Rosen Approves a Positive Review of Rosenberg’s Book

Another of Sherwin Rosen’s minor acts of methodological delinquency, this time in his role as co-editor of the Journal of Political Economy, was his asking me to review Alexander Rosenberg’s criticism of the economics profession for drifting further and further into irrelevant mathematical puzzle-solving. My review was basically favorable to Rosenberg, and my memory is that Rosen was quite content with my review.

The reference to my review is:

"Review of: Alexander Rosenberg’s Economics–Mathematical Politics or Science of Diminishing Returns?." Journal of Political Economy 104, no. 3 (June 1996): 655-659.

When Sherwin Rosen Stunned the Fifth World Congress of the Econometric Society

I remember hearing Sherwin Rosen speak to a good-sized auditorium of technical economists at a plenary session of the Fifth World Congress of the Econometric Society in 1985.[i] Rosen was proceeding in his typically bemused style, when he suggested to the stunned audience that they might benefit from re-reading Alfred Marshall. I remember him saying that there are some things in Marshall that we don’t talk about any more, but that we should still talk about. I specifically remember him mentioning that Marshall had said that the success of the institution of contract depended on the correct expectation of a certain level of ethical behavior among the participants in the economy. I wish I could remember the specifics better, but Rosen’s auditors were visibly dismayed, and I supposed that they were thinking something like: ‘read Marshall?, here was the sad sight of a once proud theoretician, going soft and senile.’

[i]I remember a large auditorium-like venue for the session, but could not remember any other session details, so I dug out a copy of the program for the meetings. The only plenary session participation listed for Rosen, was his serving as a discussant for Oliver Hart and Bengt Holmstrom’s “Theory of Contracts” paper, which was delivered on August 19, 1985 (see: “Program . . .,” 1986, p. 471). In searching through Rosen’s publications, I cannot find any evidence that his comment was ever published. In an email response (email dated Nov. 19, 2006) to my inquiry, Bengt Holmstrom has replied: “I know that his comment was not published.”

"Program of the Fifth World Congress of the Econometric Society.” Econometrica 54, no. 2 (March 1986): 459-505.

James Buchanan Convinced Harry Johnson to Over-Rule the Referees

James Buchanan (center) flanked by economics graduate students at the the closing dinner of the 2007 Summer Institute for the Preservation of the History of Economics, held at George Mason University. (Source of photo: me.)

On the evening of Thursday, June 7, 2007, Nobel-prize-winner James Buchanan joined participants for their final dinner-gathering at George Mason’s Summer Institute for the Preservation of the History of Economics.

As a young economist, you are advised that it is never productive to dispute the decisions of journal editors.

But Buchanan, in conversation during the dinner, mentioned that he had only once disputed a journal rejection–of an article submitted to the JPE during Harry Johnson’s editorship. Buchanan said that he wrote Johnson a letter explaining that the referees had totally misunderstood his paper; Johnson read the paper himself, agreed with Buchanan, and published it.

This tells us something about Buchanan, but also something about Johnson. I never took a class from Johnson, but had a conversation with him at a party or reception once, in the last year or two before his death. All I remember about the conversation was that he was polite and respectful to an unknown graduate student, and that somehow we got onto the topic of car advertising.

I remember hearing that sometimes Harry Johnson whittled on wood carving projects during committee meetings. Someone asked him why he did that, and he is reputed to have responded that at the end of the meeting he liked to feel as though something at been accomplished.

Astronauts (and the Rest of Us) Would Benefit from More Unscripted Time

Noctilucent clouds. Source of photo: http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/image/9907/noctilucent_pp.jpg

The excerpt below is from a WSJ summary of an article from the June 2007 issue of Seed.

Many other scientific discoveries have come from astronauts puzzling over strange sights around them. Most of what is known about so-called noctilucent clouds — thin, beautiful wisps that hover at the edge of the Earth’s atmosphere — comes from 30 years of astronauts sketching and trying to photograph them in their spare time. The strength of a certain type of cosmic ray was first recognized in 1969 when Buzz Aldrin asked fellow astronauts if they, like him, were seeing occasional streaks of light when their eyes were closed.

Such discoveries off the beaten path of the National Aeronautic and Space Administration’s research agenda prompt the question attributed to an Apollo program geologist: "If human beings can do much better science than robots, why does NASA make its astronauts do science like robots?"

For the full summary, see:

"Informed Reader; SCIENCE; Why Astronauts Need Down Time in Space." The Wall Street Journal (Weds., May 9, 2007): B15.

The Courage of Milton Friedman

The following two paragraphs are from a paper I am currently working on.

Milton Friedman wrote a Newsweek column many years ago that caused a firestorm of anger among his colleagues in the economics profession. Friedman’s argument was that, in general, the government is not going to do a good job of identifying the best and most productively innovative economists. In particular, he argued that economics funding by the National Science Foundation (NSF) had made the economics profession more mathematical than was appropriate.

Even his ‘Chicago’ colleagues, who were otherwise inclined to be sympathetic to his work, were appalled: Robert Lucas wrote against Friedman in the New York Times, and Zvi Griliches spoke against him before Congress.

Not too long after Friedman’s article came out, I praised it during one of the sessions of a Liberty Fund colloquium held in California. After the session, a very distinguished economist came up to me, and started talking about the Friedman article in a very irritated and animated manner. He said that what Friedman wrote in the article, might be true, but he shouldn’t have written it in a public forum.[i] He said that within the NSF, the physicists have always been opposed to funding economics, and that Friedman’s article gave the physicists just the ammunition they needed. I remember distinctly that after this conversation, the distinguished economist got into his very large and very expensive car and drove off. To the cynical, it may also be worth mentioning that this economist had received very substantial funding from the NSF.

I also remember mentioning to George Stigler my disappointment that Lucas had written contra Friedman, and Stigler gave me his cynical smile, and said that I should have expected that Lucas, and the rest of the profession, would defend NSF funding.

[i] Most of the conversation I remember in broad terms, but specifically, I remember he said something very close to: ‘Friedman shouldn’t air the profession’s dirty laundry in public.’

The reference for the Friedman article, is:

Friedman, Milton. "An Open Letter on Grants." Newsweek, May 18 1981, 99.

Beebe’s “Colleagues Reacted Coolly”

Photos of strange deep sea creatures. Source of photos: online version of the NYT article cited below.

When, more than 70 years ago, William Beebe became the first scientist to descend into the abyss, he described a world of twinkling lights, silvery eels, throbbing jellyfish, living strings as “lovely as the finest lace” and lanky monsters with needlelike teeth.

“It was stranger than any imagination could have conceived,” he wrote in “Half Mile Down” (Harcourt Brace, 1934). “I would focus on some one creature and just as its outlines began to be distinct on my retina, some brilliant, animated comet or constellation would rush across the small arc of my submarine heaven and every sense would be distracted, and my eyes would involuntarily shift to this new wonder.”

Beebe sketched some of the creatures, because no camera of the day was able to withstand the rigors of the deep and record the nuances of this cornucopia of astonishments.

Colleagues reacted coolly. Some accused Beebe of exaggeration. One reviewer suggested that his heavy breathing had fogged the window of the submarine vessel, distorting the undersea views.

Today, the revolution in lights, cameras, electronics and digital photography is revealing a world that is even stranger than the one that Beebe struggled to describe.

The images arrayed here come from “The Deep: The Extraordinary Creatures of the Abyss” (University of Chicago Press, 2007), by Claire Nouvian, a French journalist and film director.

. . .

Beebe, who ran the tropical research department at the New York Zoological Society, surely had intimations of what lay beyond the oceanic door he had opened. “The Deep” brings much of that dark landscape to light, even while noting that a vast majority of the planet’s largest habitat remains unexamined, awaiting a new generation of explorers.

For the full story, see:

WILLIAM J. BROAD. "Mysteries to Behold in the Dark Down Deep: Seadevils and Species Unknown." The New York Times (Tues., May 22, 2007): D3.

(Note: ellipsis added.)

"A Ping-Pong tree sponge." Source of caption and photo: online version of the NYT article cited above.

A Public Choice Theory of “Taxonomic Inflation”

The excerpt below is from a WSJ summary of an article that appeared in The Economist on May 19, 2007.

Scientists have taken to upgrading animals once thought to be subspecies into full-fledged species, in what the Economist says is an overzealous attempt to boost conservation of seemingly rare animals.

Sometimes, the reclassification of animals into their own species category is warranted, as new research reveals once-obscured markers that differentiate certain beasts. But lately, the weekly says, primatologists have been suffering from "taxonomic inflation."

. . .

. . . One reason is that by fragmenting animal groups, the number of rare species increases, boosting animal-conservation claims. At the same time, having a greater number of species boosts the chances that a habitat can pursue a legal designation as a protected area.

For the full summary, see:

"Informed Reader; NATURE; Species Inflation May Infect Over-Eager Conservationists." The Wall Street Journal (Sat., May 19, 2007): A6.

(Note: ellipsis added.)

A Salute to Underappreciated Amateur Historians

On a bright Saturday afternoon earlier this month, 30 or so of us gathered to give James O. Hall the send-off he deserved. Appropriately enough, the memorial service was held in the James O. Hall Research Center of the Surratt House museum, in Clinton, Md., 12 miles south of Washington. Mr. Hall died in February at the age of 95, leaving no immediate survivors. The 30 who showed up were instead neighbors, friends, a pair of nieces and random hangers-on who, like me, had known him only slightly but who honored him as a giant in a long and noble and underappreciated line.

I don’t think there’s a good word for what Mr. Hall did: "researcher" is too dry, "historical investigator" carries hints of melodrama, and "archivist" suggests a dutiful drudge, which Mr. Hall was not. "Amateur historian" probably fits best, though it sounds vaguely derivative and second-tier. Following a career with the Labor Department — he retired in the early 1970s — Mr. Hall turned himself into the world’s foremost authority on the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. Historians, pros and amateurs alike, sought him out for his knowledge and access to his exhaustive files. As one of them put it, James O. Hall knew more about Lincoln’s murder than anyone who ever lived, including John Wilkes Booth.

. . .

"I had to teach myself genealogy," he said. "Not because I liked genealogy, but because it’s how you find things that have been lost." Over the years, he tried to trace the descendants of everyone even remotely tied to the assassination. When he found a new great-granddaughter or the grandson of a nephew, he politely peppered that person with letters and phone calls, asking the descendant to rummage through attics — or offering, even better, to do it himself. His industry never flagged, and it led him to some of his greatest discoveries. In a dusty cubby in a forgotten archive, Mr. Hall made one of the major Lincoln finds of the past 50 years: a letter of self-justification Booth wrote the morning of the murder.

Typically, in 1977, Mr. Hall chose to publish this astonishing find in the Lincoln Log, a newsletter for buffs. Its circulation was minuscule compared with the slick magazines — National Geographic or American Heritage — that would have loved to showcase such a find and maybe make its discoverer famous. But Mr. Hall was without professional vanity; that’s what it means to be an amateur, after all.

At the end of his life, Mr. Hall treated his vast archives with the same modesty and discretion. At least two well-endowed universities made a play for the contents of his file cabinets. Instead, he gave them to the small, homespun Surratt House museum, once the country home of the Lincoln conspirator Mary Surratt and a favorite gathering place for buffs. With a single stroke, he transformed the museum into the Alexandrian library of assassination studies. It was a gesture of confidence and fellow feeling, made to all amateur historians from the best of their kind.

For the full commentary, see:

ANDREW FERGUSON. "TASTE; A History Hobby." The Wall Street Journal (Fri., May 25, 2007): W13.

(Note: ellipsis added.)