Mensa & Odd Obits

August 25th, 2010

From my column in the September Mensagenda

I also read a number of blogs devoted
to linguistics and editing. One I
like a lot is written by John McIntyre,
formerly the head of the copy desk at
the Baltimore Sun, and now, after an enforced
hiatus, back there as night content
editor, or some such thing.

McIntyre snarked recently at an obit
for the late senator Ted Stevens, which
began, “Ted Stevens died Monday the
way Alaskans die, in a plane crash in the
wilds of the state he devoted his life to.”

No, the obit writer wasn’t trying to
be funny. But McIntyre invited his readers
to send him candidates in the same
style for the lead sentence in their own
obits, and they are funny. I especially enjoyed
seeing the comments from people
whose language blogs I read. Try it yourself,
and post comments on my blog.

There’s one Minnesota contribution among McIntyre’s comments:

Ole Finnerud died the way most Minnesotans die: of a massive heart attack while screaming his head off near the end of a close high school hockey game. His last words, “Did we win?”

Posted by: Toma

Your turn.

Mensa & Mirrors

August 24th, 2010

Mensagenda columnist (and communications officer) Mat Rouch wrote an article for the September issue on a topic that fascinates lots of people, including him and me. He asked, “Why do mirrors reverse left-right but not up-down?” The article is available online in the members’-only section of the chapter website, http://www.mnmensa.org/.

I’d like to hear other members’ responses, so do read the whole thing (the article starts on page 18), and sound off in the comments. Mat’s conclusion:

And finally, when you look at your reflection in your bedroom mirror you do not perceive it as a flat image of the room you are in (which would be correct). You perceive it as a space behind the mirror. And the only rotational axis you can choose that (a) allows you to preserve the direction of gravity, (b) keeps the image of your bilaterally symmetric self still looking reasonable and (c) retains a sense of the reflection being a volume behind the mirror is the left-right axis. So that’s the one your brain chooses for you, automatically and beyond your control. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

It’s a fine story. But it’s not much like mine. I said:

If someone were standing next to you, walked forward past the plane of the mirror, turned around, and walked back to stand “next to” the apparent position of the mirror image, his right hand would be to your left. But the work here is being done by “turned around” — that is, he performed a 180-degree rotation around a vertical axis, and thus reversed both front-to-back and right-to-left. Your reflection in the mirror did not turn around, so it reversed only front-to-back. (If you have a ring on your left hand, and reach out and touch the mirror, the image-hand you touch also has a ring, and it is to the left in the mirror.) But it would be the ringless right hand of a person who turned around, and that is how your brain interprets it.

Mat responded:

I think your analysis is precisely correct as a description of what a reflection is, but what I wanted to get across is why the human brain insists on interpreting it as a left-right reversal as opposed to any other axis, when others are perfectly valid. You want to interpret what you see as a space behind the mirror (which it isn’t) and the only sensible way you can do that, bilaterally symmetrical and stuck in a strong gravitational field as you are, is by swapping left-right. Flip up-down and not only is your head facing the wrong way, everything is stuck to the ceiling.
The four-armed starfish does not have that limitation. He lives more or less in zero-g and his head looks just like his feet. If he swapped up-down the result would be a perfectly reasonable space-behind-the-mirror, and the same would be true if he swapped left-right. So he could and probably would do either one, as appropriate.

There you go. Your turn!

Nisbett, Jensen and Rushton

August 8th, 2010

Hunter High School is an extremely selective exam school in New York City, recently the subject of some attention because a student speaker at graduation, upset about the racial/ethnic mix of students there, said:

“If you truly believe that the demographics of Hunter represent the distribution of intelligence in this city, then you must believe that the Upper West Side, Bayside and Flushing are intrinsically more intelligent than the South Bronx, Bedford-Stuyvesant and Washington Heights, and I refuse to accept that.”

In a related thread on the blog KitchTableMath, commenter Crimson Wife said:

Richard Nisbett has a long discussion about race & IQ in his book Intelligence and How to Get It. He makes a convincing argument that the differences are mostly environmental (which can be changed) rather than genetic (which obviously can’t). If it were genetic, then IQ in blacks would be positively correlated the degree of white ancestry- and it isn’t.

Well, it is, but never mind. The broader point is that Nisbett is a spirited defender of the politically correct view that racial disparities in IQ result primarily from differences in children’s environments. The implication is that these disparities will mostly vanish if environments become more similar.

That’s more wishful thinking than argument, and it’s “convincing” only to those who already agree with Nisbett’s thesis. But it’s too vast a subject to settle here, so let me just offer a couple of links.

In a May 2009 working paper, J. Philippe Rushton and Arthur Jensen critique Nisbett’s book point by point. If you agree with Nisbett, you won’t agree with them, and vice versa, but if you’re going to write about these things you ought to be familiar with arguments on both sides.

About five years ago, Jensen and Rushton published a paper, “Thirty years of research on race differences in cognitive ability,” Psychology, Public Policy, and Law, 11, 235-294. They do not claim that environment plays no role in cognitive ability — indeed, no one has ever claimed that, as far as they know. Their much more modest claim, that the effect of heredity is greater than zero, is radioactive enough. Remember that Nobel laureate James Watson was hounded from his position for much milder comments, and he didn’t even mention heredity.

That’s one reason so few researchers risk working in this area. But both Rushton and Jensen have already survived that gantlet — Jensen more than 40 years ago — so they have nothing further to fear.

I should add the disclosure that I am slightly acquainted with both men, and admire them, their work, and their determination.

Grammatical doorstop

July 25th, 2010

Since I first read about the new Cambridge Grammar of the English Language, I’ve wanted a copy. The authors are Rodney Huddleston and Geoffrey Pullum (with some chapters written by others), and it’s an 1,800-page doorstop of a book. Just lately, having had some small discussion with my proofreader about a hyphen he wanted to put in a place where I thought no hyphen ought to be, I decided this was the time, and was fortunate enough to find a used (barely opened, I think) copy for under $100 — list price is $205.

So it now resides on the little table by my reading & laptop chair, and I am slogging through it. When I finish with the chapter on verbs (only about 40 pages to go), nouns are next, at about 200 pages.

If that sounds like more than you really want to know about English grammar, you can read a summary chapter online. Pullum wrote on the linguistics blog Language Log, “The chapter we chose for making searchable online is a particularly useful one, in that it is largely free-standing: it is chapter 2, called “Syntactic overview”, in which Rodney Huddleston surveys the structure and terminology of the entire book, giving a capsule version of the analysis that is elaborated in the following chapters.”

If you’re still in thrall to your eighth-grade English teacher and her pet peeves, or you’re hanging on to the tattered copy of Strunk and White you had to buy for freshman comp, have a look, to see what linguists have been up to the last half-century or so. And if you are much troubled with peevologists, you can always use the book to swat them.

Michael Bellesiles: back in print, and back in trouble

July 20th, 2010

The Chronicle of Higher Education recently published an essay by Michael Bellesiles, the disgraced former Emory professor and author of Arming America, who lost his job (and his Bancroft prize) after bloggers revealed extensive fabrications in the book, which purported to show that guns were rare in early American history.

Bellesiles is now an adjunct lecturer in history at Central Connecticut State University, and his essay is about a student in his class in military history whose brother, the student told Bellesiles, was shot by a sniper while serving in Iraq and died.

The essay raised red flags for many readers, not only because of Bellesiles’ record, but because they couldn’t verify the details (casualty records are public, and none matched the story the student told Bellesiles).

Eventually, The Chronicle checked the story and couldn’t verify it either (their account is now appended to the essay). Their conclusion: the story was made up, but by the student, not Bellesiles.

Picking up the idea that the student was the one at fault, Megan McArdle at the Atlantic writes, “Of course, maybe the student thought it would help him pass the class; in fact, maybe it did. Whatever the motivation, Bellesiles was taken in. Stupid, yes, but not exactly incomprehensible. You’d feel like a monstrous jerk if you added to the pain of someone whose brother had just died in Iraq by demanding that he prove he wasn’t lying.”

One of her commenters, JamieMc, said, “But this isn’t a scholarly article or journalism. It’s a personal essay. I’m not sure why anybody would expect him to research it. . . . My point is that the genre he’s working in here doesn’t really call for the kind of fact checking that some folks seem to be outraged that he didn’t do. He isn’t a journalist.”

JamieMc is wrong about the obligations of journalism. I replied:

Even “personal essays” are expected to be factually correct if they are submitted to, and appear in, a reputable and prestigious academic publication. At that point, such essays become journalism, whether or not the author can otherwise be described as a journalist. (Heck, blog posts are expected to be factually correct, however seldom that expectation is met.)

I edited many such pieces in nearly 20 years as a journalist, at several different daily newspapers, and you’d better believe it was part of my job to reject submissions that didn’t check out, and to display a healthy skepticism about which ones needed to be checked out. This essay invited skepticism because it was just too pat; and given who it came from (The Chronicle had been burned by Bellesiles before, you know), it demanded skepticism, if not instant rejection.

Any professional editor should have expected him to provide evidence that the story was essentially true.

I wrote a column on Bellesiles and Arming America in 2002, when Emory’s investigation was just gathering steam; since the paper I wrote it for closed in 2009, here’s a Google cache.

Bellesiles has a book coming out shortly; you have to wonder why any publisher would take such a chance.

An editor again

February 4th, 2010

Mensagenda, the monthly newsletter of Minnesota Mensa, will have a new editor starting with the May issue, and I’m it. The chaper’s board approved the appointment at its meeting Monday (Feb. 1)

I’m very pleased to have this opportunity. There’s no money involved, but it’s a way to keep my hand in, and to learn some new skills about layout programs (I have a copy of Pages for my MacBook). The current editor uses PageMaker, on a PC, but that program hasn’t been supported for several years and there’s no version that will run on my laptop. So I’ve been learning as I go, but that’s fun.

Up to a point, anyway, and only so long as it works.

Thanks to the board members for their vote of confidence.

Berkeley science labs

January 29th, 2010

I did a piece on a proposal to reduce funding for additional lab periods for science students  at Berkeley High School, and was no end pleased when the Breitbart site bigjournalism.com posted it Wednesday (Jan 27). Take a look and let me know what you think.

The Asparagus letter

January 5th, 2010

My son Peter — that would be Seebs — having been sidelined by a badly sprained ankle, has been improving the shining hour by sorting out boxes of stuff. And look what he found!

He explains here:

This is a bit of family history, uncovered while sorting through boxes of paperwork.

My grandfather wrote this letter, to which he actually stapled a piece of asparagus. We have a copy of the letter. I don’t recall the outcome, but I think it was positive.

January 22nd, 1946

E. Pritchard Inc.
Bridgeton, N. J.

Gentleman:
We had your cut spears asparagus for dinner tonight and they are
so incredible that I know you could not believe a description of them with-
out a sample before you, and so you may know I do not exaggerate, one of
these faggots is enclosed.
It seems that these must have been especially bred for toughness,
for even ordinary uncooked asparagus does not approximate this in tensile
strength and indestructability. I have never eaten bamboo, but I imagine
it could only be as tough as this if sufficiently aged.
Seriously, we have enjoyed your catsup for years and am taking the
trouble to write you since I am convinced that you must be unaware of this
product which masquerades as a food under your brand name. One can of the
stuff could undo $1000. in good advertising.
Yours very truly,

(name/address)

(This letter was written when the notion of a “faggot” as a strong piece of wood was not an innuendo.)
— Peter Seebach

As I recall, someone showed up on our front porch a few days later with a propitiatory box of groceries. I thought it was Del Monte, but by 1946 Pritchard had been bought by Hunt Foods, now Hunt Wesson.

From Google:

Google Books, Pure Ketchup by Andrew Smith
p. 37 In Red Bank, N.J., Naider and Baird made tomato puree. One its salesmen, Edward Pritchard, began experimenting with making ketchup from puree in about 1878. When Naider an Baird failed, Pritchard opened a factory in New York, selling “Pride of the Farm” and “Eddy’s Brand Catsup.” In 1913 Pritchard purchased B.S. Ayers and Sons and moved to Bridgeton, New Jersey.

p.121 Almost simultaneously with the Del Monte corporation, ketchup production by Hunt Foods dramatically increased after its acquisition of the E. Pritchard Company in Bridgeton, NJ, . . .[exact date not clear from the excerpt, but likely in the 1940s].

Mary Travers

September 18th, 2009

When I was working at the Los Angeles Daily News, I went to a Peter Paul & Mary concert at Universal Amphitheatre. It must have been 1993 or 1994.

Their politics were as loopy as ever (sorry, I know lots of people agreed with them) and Mary was — well, there’s no other way to say it, she was fat. But it was all magic just the same.

In one section of the program, the members of the trio came out separately, to sing a couple of solos, and to share some personal reflections.

Mary, who grew up in Greenwich Village, recalled the time when the trio was just getting started, in the early 1960’s. Once, she recalled, she rushed home all excited, to tell her mother about the great gig they’d just landed at a Village club.

“Oh, Mary,” said her mother, with weary patience. “Get a real job.”

One of the stories I’ve read in the past couple of days mentioned that the trio had been practicing in the Travers’ home for months before they began to catch on, which may explain Mom’s lack of enthusiasm.

Obviously, being Mary of PP&M was a real job. The trio broke up for a while during the 1970s, but began giving reunion concerts around 1978. I saw them twice more, at Wente’s Vineyard in Livermore, Calif., in 1996 and at Fiddler’s Green in Denver a few years later, after I moved to the Rocky Mountain News. They were still giving concerts as recently as April of this year. A wonderful run for any musician.

I’ve kept my 1960s’ folk LPs, and I even bought a turntable with a USB port so I could listen to them again.

Magic.

Misreading the Coleman report

July 18th, 2009

 I am signed up to read the Direct Instruction list, which is both inspiring with its stories of success against great odds — DI is largely limited to special ed situations, although it works like a charm in regular classrooms — and its contrast with the dispiriting reality of public schools in general, which achieve massive failure at great expense even when all the odds favor them.

Recently, someone wrote (as part of a longer post):

I’ve read the entire Coleman report; Coleman makes the distinction that teacher quality is the definitive variable. I think we can deduce from “teacher quality” that what we are really talking about is what the teacher is doing in the classroom, or more simply put: how the teacher is teaching.

However, we cannot deduce any such thing. Coleman explained what he meant, later in life. Here’s my response:

>>>
I had the privilege of a slight acquaintance with James Coleman, near the end of his career. I was a (non-traditional age ~ 50) grad student in Linguistics at the University of Minnesota (1988-1992) and working at the student newspaper, so when he came to campus as a visiting scholar I assigned myself to write about him. I had read a talk he gave as his acceptance speech for an award in the Sociology of Education, and he was pleased about that, and was generous with his time for an interview. A couple of years later, speaking at a conference of the National Association of Scholars, he spoke again on the same subject — the extent to which research in sociology, and in education in particular, is distorted by political pressures.

Neither talk is available online, as far as I know, though I had copies in my extra-essential stash of articles up until the day I retired, and they’re still packed away in one of those moving boxes. But they were published in the NAS journal Academic Questions,

Coleman, James S.
Response to the Sociology of Education Award
(vol. 2, no. 3; Summer 1989)
The Sidney Hook Memorial Award Address: On the Self-Suppression of Academic Freedom
(vol. 4, no. 1; Winter 1990–1991)

so it is possible to know, what he felt himself unable to say in the Coleman Report, what he meant by “teacher quality” — teachers’ scores on a basic test of spelling and vocabulary.

Those of you who keep up with these matters will immediately recognize this is a proxy for IQ, which was and is radioactive, but it’s bad enough without knowing that. How could he make a recommendation that would drive a highly disproportionate number of black teachers out of their jobs? (Propose hiking the passing score on Praxis tests, and see what happens.) How could he ask grad students and untenured junior faculty to work on a subject that would blight their careers? (Look what happened to Richard Herrnstein Arthur Jensen in 1969, when he candidly answered the question about how much the achievement gap could be reduced. “Not much,” he said.)

So what Coleman said instead was true, but misleading. Black children did better in classrooms where a majority of their classmates were white. Well, duh. Classrooms with a majority of while children didn’t have the barely literate teachers found in black segregated schools. If they had black teachers, which was probably rare, they were likely the best teachers in the school. They had to be.

This well-intentioned misdirection had catastrophic effects. The obvious response, if majority-white classrooms helped minority kids, was to bus kids around like sacks of cement so as many classrooms as possible had white majorities. Parents, both black and white, objected to having their children used as objects in other children’s education, and there was a massive flight of middle-class families out of city schools and out of center cities altogether. Classmates’ race might not matter all that much, but SES did.
>>>

(I think I should have said “vocabulary,” rather than including spelling.)