Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Evidence, patterns, filtering. Charles Darwin, Sherlock Holmes, and Google.

Much has been made of the human ability to recognize patterns, seeing shapes and trends in complex scenes.  We can detect familiar faces in crowds, clouds which look like dragons, trends in data.  Also notable is the human ability to filter and ignore data.  Filtering is essential in processing new data.  

Data overload is arguably not a new problem.  Consider a World Cup spectator in a crowded stadium.  A pre-literate tribe member in a dense rainforest.   Charles Darwin exploring new ecosystems during the voyages of the Beagle.  Sherlock Holmes at a crime scene.  Human neurology and cognition enables these observers to filter what is potentially paralyzing volumes of data, focus on relevant information, and detect patterns.

The Sherlock Holmes example is different, and not just because he is a fictional character (supposedly).  Dr. Watson might not agree that a crime scene is rich with observable data.  But to Sherlock Holmes it always is, since he is exceptionally skilled as a detective, and highly trained in esoteric arts such as classification of tobacco ash and natural fibers.  So data overload can depend on the tools of observation used -- or misused.  A modern example is that a few cheap webcams can easily generate terabytes of mostly useless data per day (e.g. surveillance video) which can be stored and consequently require effort to distinguish from more valuable data.  We can agree that Hubble telescope video is more precious than surveillance video, but question the costs vs. the benefits of the data volume produced by our most prized and advanced observational tools.

If a crime scene included a corpse lying prone with a dagger in the back, I think Sherlock Holmes would refrain from tobacco ash analysis and focus on the dagger, at least initially.  Since he is not called to easy cases, maybe eventually the dagger will prove to be a false lead, and the tobacco ash will deserve attention.  But Holmes like any rational observer will prioritize, will rank the evidence.  If Holmes was unable to focus, filter and rank, the bloody dagger would blend into the observable thousands of coat fibers and tobacco ashes. Which brings us to Google.

The original Google PageRank algorithm was a game changer, enabling navigation of an expanding WWW, and propelling the success of Google.   Crawling and caching the web was difficult, but had been done (e.g. AltaVista).  Google’s key innovation was to in some sense replicate the essential human need to focus, filter, and rank.  However, despite the genius behind it, Google is fundamentally a very crude, blunt observational tool.  The top hits in a Google search can only be as good as the query, which up till now has essentially been a free text search.  The PageRank algorithm depends on page links to implement a kind of crowdsourced, popularity-contest-like scoring, vulnerable to manipulation and misinformation.   We can do better than Google, and often do, but for realms less than “all the World’s information”.


Finally, there must be consideration given to math and statistics.  Recognizing faces in crowds and patterns in data means gambling with some reasonable probabilities of success and failure.  Too many false matches incur costs, being too cautious and we miss opportunities, the so-called opportunity costs.  Some evolutionary biologists suggest that homo sapiens are inclined toward false positives, perhaps to maximize food gathering and predator avoidance.   However, humans are not cognitively equipped to assess probabilities when data volumes are far from experience.  Some examples are the perceived dangers of automotive travel vs. aircraft travel, shark attack, alien abduction, etc.  In any case, in designing data analysis algorithms, wise use of statistics is imperative.

Friday, July 6, 2012


Thank you Linton Class of 1977


Thanks to the organizers of our 35th Linton High School reunion, thanks for the invitation and please accept my regrets for not attending.  I’ll be rejoining my family in France that day after a month apart so my excuse is solid.  Still I cannot believe I’m going to miss it.  I’ll be there in spirit and lately I’ve also been visiting back with our spirits of high school past.  I’ve been thinking about our class, our school, our times, and maybe it’s part of being at this advanced age, but I’m just so grateful.

We had a great school with so much to offer.  We learned about so many things, yes academic subjects but much more, from teachers, from coaches and advisors, and ourselves, our classmates.  Unfortunately I did not learn much European history but that was all my fault, and I want to apologize to Mr. Washington.  My bad.  (Now I even wish I had a tweed suit like his.)  And I didn’t need to be so annoying about it either.  Same to Mr.  Millard and American history.  Was I really that immature and shallow? (No need to answer.)  Dan W. correctly anticipated that when I began teaching high school in 1986 (in Redwood City, CA), my students would return the favor and teach me some lessons in empathy.

Our comprehensive Linton High School had diverse curricular offerings (from calculus to cooking, from sociology to statistics, from botany to business) and extra-curricular offerings, and now I regret that I didn’t explore more of those great programs: drama, music, art, journalism, community service.  Of course I also regret never passing Dating 101 (and its prerequisite Talking to Girls - remedial track)  but that’s another story.  We had diverse programs and a diverse student population, and it took me years to understand how blessed we were in that.  Our Linton and Schenectady community was a slice of America: new immigrants and Daughters of the American Revolution, many races and religions, and economics from Chevy to Cadillac.  Over time as I met the preppies and various cliques with narrower backgrounds, however privileged, I appreciated just how fortunate we were to receive the life lessons we did.  We even witnessed the rapid decline of American manufacturing as the GE workforce dropped, lessons in global economics which other Americans had yet to face or understand.  

What historic, special times we lived and high schooled in too.  We entered Linton in 1974, the month after Nixon resigned and Ford became president.  Then the long Vietnam war ended.  The country was in an extended state of shock from the war, the draft, protests, assassinations, Watergate, civil rights struggles, feminism, sex and drugs.   (Fortunately we were not yet facing that other national tragedy, disco.)  We remember watching Dan Rather on the CBS news reporting the bad news from Viet Nam as a non-embedded journalist.   I like to think we were privileged to learn from those dramatic events but not have to suffer their worst effects, not see our friends drafted and die in war.  We learned the idealism of those times, about peace and love and sacrifice, and the belief that the world can be changed for the better, in a safe place from which we yearned for adventure in the wide world.  But we also maybe absorbed the cynicism, the distrust of authority, the older generation, the establishment, the government.

Getting back to my thank yous, now I understand just how much work and dedication it takes to create and run a decent, functioning, complex organization like our Linton.  All the teachers and counselors (yes and even the administrators) who were dedicated and caring and created their own special havens where kids could learn and grow.  In my case, thanks to my cross-country, track and tennis coaches (Therrieault, Baker, Catino) for showing up, caring, setting high expectations.  Of course we didn’t appreciate enough.  

Being somewhat clueless and underdeveloped, maybe I just didn’t see our cliques.  But when I heard about other high schools and their jocks vs. geeks vs. preppies vs. heads subcults, I was thankful for Linton.  I’m not saying everything was perfect.  But I think we shared something, something of value, in so many ways.

Thanks to Mrs. Allen for tolerating Rob M. and me as we sang Surfer Girl in 10th grade English during her lectures.

Thanks to Mr. Nolan for caring enough to attempt to impress us with his vocabulary and literary references every day (now I can admit I was impressed).

Thanks to Ms. Bruce for believing that Ulysses is a great novel and telling us so with all her heart.  And for being brave enough to take us to Broadway to see Grease, which was amazing.  And wearing a halter top and looking like Diane Keaton.

Thanks to Mr. Mead for inviting me to learn probability and statistics in his class.  Sorry to Mr. Mead for refusing -- finally I understand the importance of probability and statistics -- you were right and I was wrong!

Thanks to Mr. Norton for caring so much about significant figures.  The scientific world still needs to learn this lesson, now in the “information age” we have access to so much data, much of which is insignificant.

Thanks to Mr. Kidd and Mr. Della Salla, and the Plaza Players for inspiring us with their art.  Have we learned that the world must be seen through science and art?  

Thanks to my friends who taught me so much as we grew up together.  Thanks to my cross-country and track teammates for running all over Schenectady with me, from Rexford Bridge (past “Susan is a pinhead”) to Mohawk Mall, from Collins Park to Central Park.  



Thanks everyone.

Sincerely,

Jeremy Yang
Los Ranchos, New Mexico
July 2012