Category: Insight

Making a scientific discovery isn’t just for Einsteins

Making a scientific discovery isn’t just for Einsteins

There’s a hidden catch to reading inspirational stories about individuals.

Reading them makes you feel humans can do anything.

Reading them can also make you feel like, any human but you can do anything.

It’s a paradox hidden inside reading the stories that has to do with the details. The more details we read the more real the achievements seem. But also, the more different the person and/or experiences that lead to them seem to be from who we are.

So, after reading an upbeat story about how Albert Einstein said something cool and then discovered something amazing, you can feel both inspired and demoralized at the same time.

The reason is because these stories focus on individuals more than capacities.

That makes sense because biographies and inspirational quote sites are selling peoples’ personalities as much as their ideas.

That’s not a bad thing. It’s just not helpful when you’re trying to learn practical discovery skills.

Instead, I want you to become the Einstein in your own story.  So, we need to focus on things a little differently.

Let’s talk about human capacities and discovery.

If you read widely, you will see a lot of ideas about how to do something new.

You’ll see buzz words like innovation, invention, creativity, and insight.

When it comes to a productivity framework for scientific discovery, the most helpful way to think about these concepts is to narrow in on four and recognize them as human capacities.

Capacities are the mental and physical abilities and skills we have to get things done.

So, discovery capacities are abilities, that all people have, to discover new things.

I’ve identified four discovery capacities.

What makes each discovery capacity unique is that we are motivated to apply that ability for different reasons. So, we create different results depending on which capacity we use.

On the other hand, what every discovery capacity shares is that it gives us a way to create new things in science and technology.

Here are the four discovery capacities:

1. Innovation.  You apply your capacity to innovate when you are motivated to improve the way something works. Better. Faster. Stronger. That’s all about innovation.
2. Invention. When you are motivated to build something useful you use your capacity for invention. An idea brought to life is the heart of invention.
3. Insight. Being motivated to get a more accurate understanding of the real world is when you deploy your capacity for insight. Insight gets rid of being wrong, being oblivious, and being confused.
4. Scientific Discovery. If you are motivated to explain the natural world then you will use your capacity for scientific discovery. What exists? Why does it exist? How does it work? Scientific discovery is finding the answers to those questions.

Although making scientific discoveries is our focus, all the capacities have a role to play in discovery. They build on and support each other.

My first taste of thinking about discovery was reading Walter Isaacson’s biography of Albert Einstein 12 years ago.  My second was reading a book by Hans Ohanian called Einstein’s Mistakes a few months later.

For a long time, I held these two images in my mind.  That and the famous photo of Einstein sticking out his tongue (which you might know too).

Making discoveries, through the lens of Einstein, seemed like something only mischievous, extraordinary people do.

But then I started hearing a phrase from one of my family members (they’re not in science).

It’s called “capacity-building”.

The United Nations defines capacity-building as, “the process of developing and strengthening the skills, instincts, abilities, processes and resources…to survive, adapt, and thrive in a fast-changing world”.

I realized that to make discoveries we need exactly that.

The skills and processes to survive, adapt, and thrive in a fast-changing information world.

That’s why I call them discovery capacities.  Because strengthening them is a capacity-building exercise for those who want to make scientific discoveries.

The four discovery capacities all support each other.

Sometimes you need to build a new tool (invent) to fill a knowledge gap (insight).  Or you may need to improve how a system works (innovate) to create space for new knowledge to be found (scientific discovery).

Luckily, we all start out with a basic ability to do all these things.

That’s because basic human survival requires the skill to observe, adapt, build, and learn.

As we grow, and make new learning choices, we may specialize or strengthen some capacities more than others. But we never lack, or lose, those discovery capacities all together, unless we suffer a catastrophic injury.

We can also learn and develop specific techniques to improve our capacity.

But just remember, you’re always improving on a basic ability you already have. Not starting from zero. You’ve already got what it takes. But what you’ve got can get better.

Simply put, making a scientific discovery is something anyone can do, not just a group of elite science performers.

Discovering new things is a set of core human capacities we are born with.

So, own it. Grow it.

Keep your discovery capacities strong through practice.

Become your own Einstein.

 

Reflection Question

Building up your discovery capacity is about practice.  Practicing which discovery capacity annoys you the most and why?  Which one excites you the most and why?

 

Related Links

 

On The Insightful Scientist (InSci) website

Blog (The Scientist’s Log)

Research (Research Spotlight)

How-To’s (The Scientist’s Repertoire)

Infographics (The Illustrated Scientist)

Printables (Spark Points)

Other blogs

Bulletproof Musician (performance psychology)

zen habits (achieving purpose)

Farnam Street (famous insights)

Around the web

 

How to cite this post

Bernadette K. Cogswell, “Making a scientific discovery isn’t just for Einsteins”, The Insightful Scientist Blog, December 4, 2020.

 

[Page feature photo:  Photo by Maks Key on Unsplash.]

To make a scientific discovery you need a plan not a map

To make a scientific discovery you need a plan not a map

If I told you there was a study that found what actions you take for the next 10 minutes determines whether or not you will make a scientific discovery in your life…how would you spend that time?

How does thinking about the impact of what your doing right now on your discovery potential make you feel? Guilty, curious, confused, even overwhelmed?

Unfortunately, no such study exists.  Instead, there are plenty of biographies analyzing how the Einstein’s of the world spent their time.

Don’t get me wrong.

Getting inspired by previous scientific discoveries and the stories behind them is wonderful motivation.

But it doesn’t tell you how to spend the next 10 minutes of your life to make your own discoveries. For that you need an action plan.

So let me share the scientific discovery framework that I’ve developed, which will give you a plan.  It’s helped me see how discovery gets done and it will help you too.

There are lots of parts to scientific discovery, but they all fit together in a logical whole.

In a series of posts, I’ll explain my framework for connecting those parts and how you can prioritize your efforts to get moving on making a discovery.

Links to other parts of the series are at the bottom of each post.

This first post lays out the big picture of scientific discovery. Get ready for an information download! Stick with it. Don’t worry if it feels like a lot. Shorter follow-up posts will guide you. Jump in and out of the series anywhere – the posts are all standalone. You can take it all in as you have time.

Let’s get to it.

I’ve identified six core areas that power scientific discovery:

1. Discovery repertoire. The personal portfolio of techniques that you use to get science done is your scientist’s repertoire. There are four sections to your internal portfolio: how you think about your science (mindset), what tasks you know how to complete to get science done (activities), the recipes you have for combining outcomes with actions (skills), and what you know (knowledge). When you have a solid plan, but still don’t make progress on your science it means you need to strengthen a weak part of your repertoire.

2. Discovery capacities.  Learning new things in science and technology is driven by four human capacities: innovation, invention, insight, and scientific discovery. Capacities get different results because they are driven by different motivations. Innovation motivates us to improve the way something works. Invention motivates us to build devices that will do something useful. Insight motivates us to change how we see the world. Scientific discovery motivates us to explain how the world works. Insight and scientific discovery are core capacities that build on each other.

3. Discovery vital qualities.  The difference between a scientific discovery and regular scientific research is that a new discovery-level scientific finding will have at least one of three vital qualities:  It will shift our perspective on the world (be radical), it will link knowledge to make a broader range of predictions about the world (be universal), and/or it will be new knowledge (be novel). Your work should have one of these qualities as an objective to aim for discovery-level science.

4. Discovery impact classes.  Scientific discovery intuitively feels more high impact than regular science. That impact lies on a continuum from low to high, determined by how many vital qualities a discovery captures. Minor class discoveries possess only one of the three vital qualities. Major class discoveries possess at least two and legacy class discoveries must have all three. Science spans from regular research to legacy class discoveries on an incremental spectrum defined by these qualities. So, start small and build up to the big discoveries.

5. Discovery learning categories.  Scientific discovery learns something new about the world. What you learn falls into three categories: something about an unknown object (object-type), something about the properties of an object (attribute-type), or something about how and why the world works the way it does (mechanism-type).  Some categories are easier to make discoveries in because the learning curve is smaller.

6. Discovery evolution phases.  Most scientific discoveries evolve through five phases, which I call the discovery cycle.  First, you ask an unanswered question (question).  Then you form ideas for an answer (ideation).  You make those ideas into tests in the real world (articulation). You run the tests and evaluate the results (evaluation). And if the results repeatedly prove true then they become a scientific discovery (verification).  Troubleshooting your scientific discovery progress is easier if you know what phase you are in because unique problems trip up scientists at each phase.

The framework I’ve developed lets you craft a scientific discovery action plan, troubleshoot your progress, and connect specific activities and techniques with the results you want to achieve.

The simplest starting point? Aim for a minor class, attribute-type discovery that is universal. That represents a baby step from current science to something new.  And if you hit an obstacle check your insight in a systematic way and seek out techniques to boost you from one phase of scientific discovery to the next.

No matter where you start, be inspired by the scientific discovery stories of others, but don’t stay stuck in them.  Discovery isn’t a sightseeing tour through known territory. It’s a push toward unknown territory.

Simply put, to make a scientific discovery you need a plan for how to tackle the unknown, not a map of the known.

 

Take Action

Once you’ve got a framework and a plan, spend the next 10 minutes taking action.  You’ll be 10 minutes closer to making your next discovery.

 

Related Links

 

On The Insightful Scientist (InSci) website

Blog (The Scientist’s Log)

Research (Research Spotlight)

How-To’s (The Scientist’s Repertoire)

Infographics (The Illustrated Scientist)

Printables (Spark Points)

Other blogs

Bulletproof Musician (performance psychology)

zen habits (achieving purpose)

Farnam Street (famous insights)

Around the web

 

How to cite this post

Bernadette K. Cogswell, “To make a scientific discovery you need a plan not a map”, The Insightful Scientist Blog, September 11, 2020.

 

[Page feature photo:  Photo by Torbjorn Sandbakk on Unsplash.]

Architecture of Discovery: Insight

Architecture of Discovery: Insight

How to define “scientific insight” so that you can become an insightful scientist.

 


 

You are on the old version of this post.  Please read the updated version of this post by clicking hereFind the index to the updated full series of posts here.

 


 In the first blog post in this series I gave an overview of what I call the “architecture of scientific discovery.”  In that post (see link at bottom) I listed all the key elements and processes that influence achieving a scientific discovery.

In this post I want to dive deeper into how to define scientific insight so that you can always work towards becoming a more insightful scientist.

First, a quick reminder of how insight fits into the architecture of scientific discovery:

Insight” is one of the four human discovery capacities.  These capacities are what allow us to make progress in science and technology.

Every themed post in the architecture of discovery series, where I focus on one concept in the architecture, has four sections.  For each core concept that fosters scientific discovery I talk about,

  1. how to define it in a science context,
  2. what role it plays in advancing scientific discovery,
  3. how to recognize it in science examples, and
  4. ways to use it in your own discovery project workflow.

 

So, this week let’s talk about “insight” in science.

 

How to define insight to make it useful for daily research work:

 

Gaining “insight” means improving the accuracy of your perspective.

 

Let me remind us of the basics of “insight” by repeating some key points from the first architecture of discovery post.  A useful definition of insight in science is:

“Insight” is refining the accuracy of your perspective of the real world.

There are three ways you can get a more accurate perspective, or “achieve insight”:

  • You can add something new to your perspective that you were not aware of before.
  • You can correct something that you misperceived.
  • Or you can clarify something that you only vaguely understood.

Another factor that distinguishes among the four human discovery capacities (insight, invention, innovation, and scientific discovery) is our motivation for pursuing a discovery.

In the case of insight, our motivation is:  “I want to…change how I see the world.”

My definition of insight is heavily influenced by ideas from cognitive and therapeutic psychology.  In cognitive psychology, I pull from the concept of “insight problems,” whose solutions are obtained through a sudden, all-at-once recognition of the problem solution.  And in therapeutic psychology, I draw from the idea that insight leads to therapeutic breakthroughs, i.e., that mental awareness fosters a capacity to solve personal problems.

As you can see, although both of these definitions of insight work well in their respective contexts, and each echoes the other, it’s kind of hard to see how to apply them to become an insightful scientist.

So, I took some of the themes from those two fields and re-configured them into a meaning that lends itself to defining scientific insight.  (Although, I think you could also apply the definition I’ve come up with to other areas, beyond science, too.)

Now, let’s discuss the three ways you can achieve insight in a little more detail.

 

Misperceiving Something

You can improve the accuracy of your perspective on the natural world…by correcting a faulty belief.

When I say “misperceiving” something, I mean that you have an inaccurate perspective on a piece of knowledge.  In other words, you misunderstand something you already know.

What you misunderstand could be something you think you know about an object, the characteristics of an object, or the mechanisms behind how certain things work.

Until this faulty bit of knowledge is fixed, you are likely to make incorrect predictions, have a higher failure rate in your trial and error attempts, and build up a flawed picture of just how everything fits together.  Getting rid of these faulty beliefs is key to getting on the right track for scientific discovery.

 

Being Unaware

You can improve the accuracy of your perspective on the natural world…by learning things you don’t know.

When I say being “unaware” of something, I mean that a piece of knowledge does not exist within your mental repertoire.  That means, you simply don’t know something.

One of the most powerful tools in science is using “constraints.”  Constraints are what you know have to be true, or be predicted, in order for a new piece of scientific knowledge to be consistent with everything else that we have already verified to be true about the natural world.

Being unaware of a crucial constraint can be costly.  It can send you down the path of interesting, but ultimately useless, dead ends that cannot be directly used as a springboard for further scientific discovery.  (Though mistakes, or “mis-fitting the data,” can have its uses.  See link to my previous post, “Misfits Matter,” at bottom).

Also, if you don’t even know something exists—such as an object, characteristic, or outcome—then you can’t even know you are supposed to being pursuing its scientific discovery potential!

So, filling any gaps in your knowledge, by becoming more aware, is an important step in becoming a more insightful scientist and, hence, improving your likelihood of making a scientific discovery.

 

Feeling Vague

You can improve the accuracy of your perspective on the natural world…by understanding the what, why, and how of an aspect of the natural world.

When I say feeling “vague” about something, I mean that you can’t articulate your beliefs into a coherent and consistent chunk.  When you have a vague understanding of something, you can’t explain what all the parts are, why they are there, and how they work together.

I use the term “coherent” because all the elements relevant for understanding something must be part of the descriptive chunk you create for it.  In other words, all the pieces that you know about something have to “hang together” or you don’t have a good mental picture of what something is and how it works.

And I chose the term “consistent” because it means that none of the elements or connections you include in your mental chunk can contradict (i.e., falsify) each other.

It’s easy to know when you are vague about something, because you can’t explain it to someone else.  And you dread or fear that someone will ask you questions about it!

Being vague suppresses our ability to gain insight and make discoveries because we aren’t working with a full and complete set of constraints to guide our predictions and efforts.

To sum it all up, gaining scientific insight and becoming an insightful scientist means correcting your misperceptions, clarifying vague perceptions, and filling your knowledge gaps about how the natural world works.

If you don’t work at becoming an insightful scientist with every project then you are at risk of creating bad science (or worse, harmful science).

But if you do put in the effort to become an insightful scientist, then you are more likely to be rewarded by making a scientific discovery.

So, next let’s explore why scientific insight and scientific discovery are so entangled.

 

What role insight plays in making a scientific discovery:

 

Insight infuses your research efforts with the three key qualities of scientific discovery.

 

If you have read the starting post in this architecture of discovery series (see link at bottom) you will remember that the three key qualities a scientific discovery must <italics> have are radicality, universality, and novelty.

(As a reminder:  If research lacks all three of those qualities then it falls into the category of a scientific investigation.  But if it possesses any one, two, or three of those qualities then it falls into the category of a scientific discovery).

Here’s a quick recap of what each of the three qualities of scientific discovery encompasses:

  • Radical means that the discovery causes a shift in our perspective.
  • Universal means that the discovery can be applied to a range of things.
  • Novel means that the discovery has never been demonstrated to be true before.

If the outputs of a research effort don’t contain at least one of those three key qualities, to some degree, then it isn’t impactful enough to be called a scientific discovery.

Strong connections exist between the definitions I just gave of the three qualities of scientific discovery and my earlier definition of scientific insight.  Next, let me share some of the connections I see.

 

Interplay of Insight and the Radical Nature of Scientific Discovery

Radicality in scientific discovery is about shifting your point of view.

In other words, the radical quality of scientific discovery teaches us to see something in a very different way from how we saw it before.

Gaining scientific insight is how we achieve the radical perspective shifts needed for scientific discovery to occur at the individual level.

By becoming aware of new perspectives or information, your point of view changes.  By correcting a faulty perception of the natural world, you gain a new view of how the universe operates.  And by getting clarity on precisely how things work, your point of view becomes clearer and more focused.

 

Interplay of Insight and the Universal Nature of Scientific Discovery

Universality in scientific discovery is about understanding the extent to which your perspective of the natural world applies to a range of situations and objects.

Gaining scientific insight is how we recognize patterns in nature whose significance rises to the level of a scientific discovery.

Insight can allow us to recognize that various truths in science are more or less universal, by becoming aware of, clarifying, or correcting faulty perceptions of those truths.

For example, you cannot apply a piece of knowledge to a new arena if you are unaware that connections exist between two topics.  And you cannot recognize a mechanism as more universally applicable if you only vaguely know how it actually works.

As you exercise your capacity for insight, you build up the necessary knowledge base to let you recognize universal patterns that will yield scientific discoveries.

 

Interplay of Insight and the Novel Nature of Scientific Discovery

Novelty in scientific discovery is about seeing and recognizing the undiscovered.

Gaining scientific insight is how we find new things that end up being scientific discoveries.

This is at the core of the idea that improving the accuracy of your perspective on the natural world, or developing scientific insight, is about becoming aware of new things.

When new pieces of knowledge are only new to you, then they stay in the realm of insight.  But when they are verified and are new to the scientific community, then they move into the realm of scientific discovery.

Of course, the correspondence between insight and the three key qualities of scientific discovery is not cut and dried.  I’m just pointing out that these things certainly interact.

So, being skilled at insight (i.e., improving the accuracy of your perspective on something) is crucial to also being able to recognize and foster the elements of the radical, the novel, and the universal in your own discovery process and research activities.

Now, abstractions and definitions are nice.

But examples and practicalities are also nice!

So I’d like to turn our attention first to some examples and then to some practical ways to use all this (in the last section).

 

How to recognize scientific insight using examples from science history:

 

Insight is visible when researchers discuss filling gaps or correcting misunderstandings in our common scientific knowledge.

 

The goal of presenting examples of working scientists struggling with insight is to help us recognize scientific insight in action, from stories of research or in research papers.  For this post, I am going to pull out examples from the discovery of radioactivity in physics (see link to a nice overview by physicist and historian Allan Franklin at the bottom of this post).

 

Science History Example of “Insight”:  Misperceiving Something

A good example of how misperceiving something affected the progress of discovery is the case of radioactive decay.

After Henri Becquerel had discovered the emission of unknown radiation from certain materials (quite by accident), physicists quickly identified new so-called alpha particles as what was being emitted.  They also learned quite a bit about the range of energies with which such particles could be emitted from radioactive samples (known as energy spectra).

However, after the discovery of alpha radioactive decay (usually just called “alpha decay”), another new kind of radioactive decay was observed, involving what were identified as electron particles, by Walter Kaufmann.  These electron particles were also emitted with a range of energies (and this was called “beta decay”).

As a result, a faulty analogy arose in the mind of many of the top physicists of the day that the energy spectra seen in alpha and beta decay experiments occurred by similar mechanisms.

This perception turned out to be false.

In fact, the analogous behavior in the alpha and beta decay spectra was caused by the existence of another fundamental particle, the neutrino, which had not yet been discovered!

The point here is that it took decades before physicists realized, and reconciled themselves to the idea, that they should be looking for an entirely new particle, not a way to explain beta decay using alpha decay.

The misperception that alpha and beta decay should be the same caused certain key experiments to be neglected, which slowed the pace of gathering the necessary information to come to the conclusion that new particles were at work and allowing a huge discovery (eventually leading to a Nobel prize in physics) to be made.

 

Science History Example of “Insight”:  Being Unaware

Above, I just mentioned a good example of how being unaware affects scientific discovery—the accidental discovery of radioactive decay.

Becquerel would not have known about radioactive decay because he and other scientists had never observed it.  So when he accidentally exposed a photographic plate by leaving it near a radioactive sample (producing a surprise image), he became aware of a new aspect of the natural world.

Of course, this was a discovery in and of itself.  But more subtly, as I traced out in the previous example, knowing about radioactive decay and measuring its properties also became a next step in pursuing research into the existence of a new particle (in fact of many new particles).  So becoming aware of radioactive decay opened up the knowledge pathway to later scientific discoveries.

By being unaware of the process of radioactive decay, physicists at that time were prevented from making new discoveries in many areas that rely on the decay process to become visible to experimental observation and investigation.

 

Science History Example of “Insight”:  Feeling Vague

Lastly, a good example of how being vague can hinder scientific discovery, comes from what happened after physicists realized that the alpha decay and beta decay spectra were not the result of the same mechanism.

The best way to sum up a scientist realizing they had hit upon the problem of being too vague and lacking insight is to quote the words of the famous physicist Lise Meitner.  When Meitner saw experimental confirmation of the beta decay spectra results she said, in a letter to fellow physicist Sir Charles Ellis:

“We have verified your results completely.  It seems to me now that there can be absolutely no doubt that you were completely correct in assuming that beta radiations are primarily inhomogeneous.  But I do not understand this result at all.” [Emphasis mine; as quoted in Franklin, p. 17.]

Meitner was an exceptional physicist.  She had cranked through much of the theory.  She was aware of all the experimental data.  And she had contributed to the effort, by doing some of the experiments herself.

But with the acceptance of the beta decay spectrum, she hit a wall, as most physicists did, and realized that her understanding of the beta decay process was too vague to be able to create a coherent and consistent theory of what was really going on.

The vague understanding that physicists had at the time, of the details of beta decay, made it hard for them to successfully generate the insights necessary to discover the source of the anomalous behavior (a new particle).

So how can we put the definition of scientific insight I’ve given here to use and avoid some of these pitfalls and setbacks from science history?

 

Ways to add research activities targeted at insight:

 

Get clear on what you and others know for sure and put what you (don’t?) know in unfamiliar contexts and formats.

 

Some days we just want to think (or daydream!) about discovery, but other days we need to: Make. It. Happen.

So for this last section, I’d like to throw out a few ideas for how you can turn gaining insight into conscious research activities to help you pursue scientific discovery.

The most important thing to recognize in these ideas and this definition is that improving, honing, or strengthening your insight capacity will fundamentally strengthen your ability to recognize and integrate the three essential qualities of scientific discovery into your workflow.  Insight is a lens through which you can hone your perspective on the world.

 

Activities to Help You Gain Insight

 

So, here’s a handy bullet list of activities that might help you gain insight:

 

  • Activities to fix “being unaware of something”:  Ask yourself, “Am I missing information?” and “Do I recognize all the things I don’t know about my problem or question?” If the answer is yes to the first and no to the second, then you need to do some work in this area.  Exploratory analyses are great to draw your attention to things you haven’t noticed.  Make a graph and look for unexpected shapes in it.  Put information in a table and look for empty entries you can’t fill in.  Let someone who doesn’t know the topic ask you questions and note the ones you can’t answer.  And the easiest trick—read more!  Especially in places you don’t usually read.

 

  • Activities to fix “misperceiving something”:  Ask yourself “Is it possible that what I believe to be true is wrong?” If yes, then you need to do some work in this area.  Again the easy fix is—read more!  Find out what other people have written about the topic that both agree and disagree with your beliefs.  Another easy fix—listen to more people talk about the topic.  Listen to seminars, TED talks, online courses, podcasts, speeches, and conversations.  Other people will present things in a way that makes sense to them and may be a different perspective then you have of the topic.  Also, try writing down a claims-reason-evidence chain (you can Google this idea from philosophy and argumentation).  If your chain is faulty, weak, or broken, you will see it when you write it down.

 

  • Activities to fix “being vague about something”:  Ask yourself, “Can I summarize the most important part of what I know in one minute or less and in one slide or less?” and “Does what I know explain at least 90% of the problem or question I am pursuing?”  If it’s no to either question, then you need to do some work in this area.  Approach your problem using the wrong method, on purpose, and learn why something doesn’t work.  Create a mindmap, or bullet outline a state of the art or landscape analysis.  Look for branches of the map and sub-headings of the lists that lack precise concepts or statements.  Another option, sit down and write out one sentence defining something.  Then create a list under it where you define every meaningful word using the form, “By <word in statement> I mean…”  Work to be able to explain every part of your statement.

 

PUT IT IN ACTION:

 

If you find acronyms or sentences helpful for remembering or reminding yourself to do things then remember this tip for improving insight:

Always MUV your perspective toward better accuracy.

That will make you more insightful.  MUV (pronounced like “move”)  stands for the areas where you can improve that accuracy, if you Misperceive, are Unaware, or are Vague about something.  It’s like the English expression “move the needle”.  You are trying to move the needle on what you know (and the world knows!), by learning more and getting better at understanding the world every time you pursue discovery.  So:

Become more insightful by improving the accuracy of your perspective on a question or problem.

 

 

Interesting Stuff Related to This Post

 

  1. Ruben Laukkonen, Daniel Ingledew, and Jason Marcus Tangen, “Getting a Grip on Insight: An Embodied Measure of Aha! And Metacognition during Problem Solving,” preprint (PsyArXiv, May 28, 2018), https://doi.org/10.31234/osf.io/fyhwb.
  2. “Gary Klein’s Triple Path Model of Insight,” Farnam Street Blog, September 9, 2013, https://fs.blog/2013/09/the-remarkable-ways-we-gain-insights/.
  3. See Allan Franklin’s contribution on the History of the Neutrino (held September 2018) conference page, “Prehistory and Birth of the Neutrino,” https://neutrino-history.in2p3.fr/prehistory-and-birth-of-the-neutrino/.

 

Related Content on The Insightful Scientist

 

The Scientist’s Log (Blog Posts)

 

The Scientist’s Repertoire (Tutorials)

 

Research Spotlight (Summaries)

 

The Illustrated Scientist (Printables)

 

How to cite this post in a reference list:

 

Bernadette K. Cogswell, “Architecture of Discovery: Insight – How to define scientific ‘insight’ so that you can become an insightful scientist,” The Insightful Scientist Blog, July 12, 2020, https://insightfulscientist.com/blog/2020/architecture-of-discovery-insight.

 

[Page feature photoA series of lenses grace the display case in a sunglass shop in Barcelona, Spain. Photo by Michel Oeler on Unsplash.]

Architecture of Discovery: Overview

Architecture of Discovery: Overview

On how to define and categorize all aspects of scientific discovery.

 


You are on the old version of this post.  Please read the updated version of this post by clicking hereFind the index to the updated full series of posts here.


 

Have you have ever been on the receiving end of a colleague, boss, or even stranger sitting next to you on a plane (ah, the good old days before coronavirus), asking you questions like,

“But what impact will your work have?”

“Can you study something more interesting/important?”, or even,

“Who cares?”

If so, then you have come up against a problem all researchers, scientists, and citizen scientists face:  How to try and do the best possible, most high impact, most important science you are capable of as often as possible.

What you are aiming for is a scientific discovery.  And what well-meaning acquaintances and strangers are asking for is the same thing.

But how do you do that?  Trying to aim that high can seem overwhelming.

 

The Problem:  Many existing definitions of scientific discovery are good for textbooks, but not for project planning, follow-through, or troubleshooting.

 

My Solution:  Define “scientific discovery” so that you can achieve it with training and algorithms, and perform quantitative studies to probe it.

 

The purpose of this post is to lay out all the key components that will help us train ourselves to become better discoverers.  You can see this framework drawn in my concept sketchnote below.

 

Hand drawn illustration by Bernadette K. Cogswell showing all the key components of a useful definition of scientific discovery.
My hand drawn sketchnote of the “architecture of scientific discovery” showing all the important parts of the process. (Artist: Bernadette K. Cogswell. For reprint permission, contact me.)

 

There is a lot of ground to cover, so in this post I am going to give short descriptions of everything in the big picture.

In the following 22 (!) posts in the series, I will drill down into each of the 18 parts in more detail, with examples taken from science history.

Now let’s jump in…

 

Group 1:

Discovery Capacities

Scientific discovery is just one of four human capacities for discovery in science and technology.

 

Let’s zoom in on the discovery architecture picture I’ve drawn above.

 

A close-up of my sketchnote showing the four discovery capacities at the core of the discovery architecture. (Artist: Bernadette K. Cogswell. For reprint permission, contact me.)

As human beings, we have the capacity to discover new things in science and technology.  These discovery capacities form the main part of the structure and they house all our abilities and knowledge about science and technology.

These discovery capacities fall into four types—insight, invention, innovation, and scientific discovery.  The main differences between types are their results and our reasons and motivations for pursuing a discovery.

So let me give you a definition of insight, a definition of invention, a definition of innovation, and a definition of scientific discovery.

Insight

Definition of insight:

“Insight” is refining the  accuracy of your perspective of the real world.

Getting a more accurate perspective, or “achieving insight,” is accomplished in one of three ways.  You can add something new to your perspective that you were not aware of before.  You can correct something that you misperceived.  Or you can clarify something that you only vaguely understood.

Motivation:  “I want to…change how I see the world.”

Invention

Definition of invention:

”Invention” is building a machine or process that creates a previously unobtainable result.

Creating a previously impossible result, or “inventing something new”, is brought about by focusing on three aspects of what you build.  You want to build something that has not been built that way before.  You want to build something that does what it was built to do.  And you want what you built to create something that a machine or process like it has not created before.

Motivation:  “I want to…build a device that will do something useful.”

Innovation

Definition of innovation:

”Innovation” is improving the functionality  of a process or device.

Refining how things work, or “innovating”, is really about making things work better more easily.  You can make something function more efficiently.  You can make something run faster or with fewer resources.  You can make something more likely to produce what it was designed to produce.  And you can make something produce a higher quality version of what it was designed to produce.

Motivation:  “I want to…improve the way things work.”

Scientific Discovery

Definition of scientific discovery:

”Scientific Discovery” is finding the evidence, interaction, and causes of things that exist in the natural world.

Learning something new about nature, or “making a scientific discovery,” relies on three things.  You must acquire knowledge.  You must demonstrate that the phenomena exist using evidence and statistical or logical analysis.  And the knowledge you acquire must include one or more element of the radical, the universal, or the novel (those are defined in the next section).

Motivation:  “I want to…explain how the world works.”

In this framework “applied science” can be defined as a combination of mastering the capacities for invention and innovation, while “fundamental science” or “basic science” can be defined as a combination of mastering the capacities for insight and scientific discovery.  By “science” I mean the physical sciences (e.g., astronomy, biology, chemistry, computer science, data science, engineering, geology, medicine, paleontology, physics, etc.), the social sciences (e.g., anthropology, economics, political science, psychology, sociology, etc.), and mathematics.

(Also, you might wonder why insight is listed as its own discovery capacity since it is integral to the other three discovery capacities, invention, innovation, and scientific discovery.  This is true.  However, it’s more useful to put it on an equal footing with the other three capacities.  It’s easier to develop training protocols, algorithms, and quantitative metrics to explore discovery methods, all goals for developing this framework.)

 

Group 2:

Scientific Discovery Vital Qualities

There are three qualities any scientific study or research must have, or it can’t be called a “scientific discovery”.

 

The three scientific discovery qualities are the foundation on which we can build any kind of discovery.

 

A close-up of my sketchnote showing the three qualities that form the foundation of defining something as a scientific discovery. (Artist: Bernadette K. Cogswell. For reprint permission, contact me.)

They are integral to recognizing discovery and generating discoveries.

These three essential qualities form the basis of what makes scientific discovery different from everyday scientific investigation and scientific research.

How is scientific discovery different from scientific investigation?  Scientific discovery has a higher and more long-lasting impact on the evolution of science.  So let’s define the vital qualities that embody that impact and enduring nature.

Radical

Definition of the radical quality of scientific discovery:

The “radical” quality of scientific discovery means that the new knowledge gained as a result of the discovery represents a meaningful shift in perspective from the previous state of knowledge.

Role in scientific impact and longevity:  Scientific discovery is radical—it changes the perspective of science in one of three ways.  Something can be added to what we know.  Something can be rejected from what we thought we knew.  Or something that we know can be changed.  By impacting our scientific perspective, the radicality of scientific discovery opens up new avenues of research and creates or ends long-standing practices and beliefs.

Universal

Definition of the universal quality of scientific discovery:

The “universal” quality of scientific discovery means that the knowledge acquired as a result of discovery is valid and reliable and that the knowledge gained has predictive or descriptive power in a range of physical situations.

Role in scientific impact and longevity:  Scientific discoveries have a broad impact because the new knowledge they bring has a range of application.  The universal nature of a scientific discovery lies on a spectrum from “proximal” to “distal”.  “Proximal” means that the new knowledge can be applied to a broad range of areas with few changes to its verified form.  “Distal” means that the new knowledge discovered can only be applied to areas and phenomena closely or directly related to the area in which the discovery was made, or that to apply it to other areas requires a lot of translation.  The scientific discoveries with the most direct universal appeal have the longest legacies.

Novel

Definition of the novel quality of scientific discovery:

The “novel” quality of scientific discovery means that the knowledge obtained through the discovery has not been previously shown to exist, in a reproducible way, by observation or experimentation.

Role in scientific impact and longevity:  Scientific discoveries electrify areas of science because they bring something new to the table.  And when those new elements are verified, they shape future research activities and ways of thinking.

The impact effects of scientific discoveries and their longevity, as forces that shape research practice, effort, and interest, are embodied in the three vital qualities at the foundation of the scientific discovery architecture.  They give scientific discovery it’s je ne sais quoi factor that inspires the layperson and the scientist alike.

 

Group 3:

Scientific Discovery Impact Classes

The impact and significance of all scientific discoveries can be grouped into three classes.

 

The purpose of discovery is progress in some area (understanding, outcomes, effectiveness, and knowledge as we saw from the section on the four discovery capacities above).

The discovery classes represent broad categories that help identify the level of impact (or progress) that our discoveries are capable of achieving or fostering.

These classes, therefore, overarch the specific categories of scientific discoveries.

 

A close-up of my sketchnote showing the three discovery impact classes that overach all scientific discovery and describe a discovery’s effect and longevity. (Artist: Bernadette K. Cogswell. For reprint permission, contact me.)

In particular, the discovery classes encompass three different levels of impact, from wide-ranging to narrow, as described in their definitions below, and as represented by the fact that the three domes of discovery impact classes are nested in my sketchnote diagram.

Minor

Definition of a minor impact class scientific discovery:

A “minor” class discovery meets the criteria for any one of the three vital qualities of scientific discovery—radical, universal, or novel.

Minor scientific discoveries are either radical, universal, or novel, but not all three at once.  Therefore, they have an impact beyond ordinary scientific investigation, but their impact is limited.

Major

Definition of a major impact class scientific discovery:

A “major” class discovery meets any two of the three criteria for the vital qualities of scientific discovery—radical, universal, or novel.

Major scientific discoveries are either radical and universal, or radical and novel, or universal and novel, etc.  They have two of the three vital qualities, but are missing the third one.  As a result, their impact tends to be more wide-spread than minor class discoveries, but not as high impact as they could be if they embodied all three qualities.

Legacy

Definition of a legacy impact class scientific discovery:

A “legacy” class discovery meets all three criteria for the vital qualities of scientific discovery—radical, universal, and novel.

Legacy class discoveries are the full package—radical, universal, and novel.  The impact of legacy class scientific discoveries is wide-ranging and long-lasting.  These are the hardest scientific discoveries to achieve, but the ones with the greatest value.

 

Group 4:

Scientific Discovery Learning Categories

The types of scientific discoveries you could make can be grouped into three categories.

 

The learning categories are specific to only one of the discovery capacities, scientific discovery (they are not intended to be applied, by analogy, to insight, invention, or innovation).

These categories of scientific discovery divide the field of knowledge obtained through scientific discovery into three areas.  These areas are determined by the kind of information you hope to gain, or your learning objective.

Object

Definition of the object type scientific discovery:

An “object” scientific discovery is acquiring knowledge about the existence of a new object in nature.

Learning Goal:  Answers the question, “Does something exist?”

Attribute

Definition of the attribute type scientific discovery:

An “attribute” scientific discovery is acquiring knowledge about the characteristics, properties, and/or traits of an object or process in nature.

Learning Goal:  Answers the question, “What is something like?”

Mechanism

Definition of the mechanism type scientific discovery:

A “mechanism” scientific discovery is acquiring knowledge about the causes, connections, interactions, and/or sequences of objects and attributes in nature.

Learning Goal:  Answers the question, “How does something work?” and/or “Why does something happen?”

 

A close-up of my sketchnote showing the different types of discoveries you can make as central to the architecture of discovery. (Artist: Bernadette K. Cogswell. For reprint permission, contact me.)

Let’s look at this part of the discovery architecture more closely, as shown above in my sketchnote drawing.

The scientific discovery learning goals are shown under the dome of the scientific discovery classes because they can fall under (i.e., be impacted by or represented in) all the classes of scientific discoveries.

Another way to think of it is that the scientific discovery classes are umbrella terms that cover all the categories or types of scientific discoveries you could make.

(Again, this is just the overview, in future posts I will talk about each of these in more detail and it will begin to make more sense as you see examples and further discussion.)

Onward to the last group I want to cover in this post…

 

Group 5:

Scientific Discovery Cycle

(Evolution Phases)

Most scientific discoveries must pass through five phases.

 

All of the above groups—the discovery capacities, the scientific discovery classes, the scientific discovery categories, and the scientific discovery qualities—form the main architecture of scientific discovery.

You can think of these like a very old and sturdy building, where every brick and design element of the structure is built up out of our application of the discovery capacities, classes, categories, and qualities and the knowledge, abilities, devices, and processes that we have created as a result.

There is one more important element in the overall architecture, and that is represented by the sun shown in the upper right hand corner of my sketchnote illustration.

 

A close-up of my sketchnote showing how the scientific discovery cycle illuminates all other aspects of discovery. (Artist: Bernadette K. Cogswell. For reprint permission, contact me.)

The sun represents the process that drives scientific discovery, or the “scientific discovery cycle”, which shines a light on all the other elements of the architecture so that we can become aware of them and manipulate them in the course of running our projects as scientists.

Below I summarize each of the five evolutionary stages of the scientific discovery cycle.

Question

Definition of the question phase of the scientific discovery process:

The “question phase of scientific discovery” is the stage in the process when the question to be answered, or problem to be solved, is explicitly defined.

Purpose of Stage:  Define what you want to find, create, or explain.

Ideation

Definition of the ideation phase of the scientific discovery process:

The “ideation phase of scientific discovery” is the stage in the process when a possible solution or solutions is conceived of to answer the discovery question or solve the discovery problem.

Purpose of Stage:  Come up with a guess for how you will find it, create it, or explain it.

Articulation

Definition of the articulation phase of the scientific discovery process:

The “articulation phase of scientific discovery” is the stage in the process when at least one proposed solution is put into a form that can be tested in the real world.

Purpose of Stage:  Write an equation or description, or build or code a prototype, embodying your answer.

Evaluation

Definition of the evaluation phase of the scientific discovery process:

The “evaluation phase of scientific discovery” is the stage in the process when the testable solution is probed and its success in answering the discovery question, or solving the discovery problem, is assessed.

Purpose of Stage:  Test your equation, description, code, or prototype to see if it answers your question.

Verification

Definition of the verification phase of the scientific discovery process:

The “verification phase of scientific discovery” is the stage in the process when the best available solution to answer the discovery question, or solve the discovery problem, is confirmed to be accurate and reliable by multiple independent analyses.

Purpose of Stage:  Subject your “discovery” to public scrutiny and see if it holds up to testing.

Note that, the way I have defined it, the scientific discovery cycle is different from the scientific method.

The scientific method focuses on how to obtain valid and reliable information about the world.  But it is not concerned with the impact of that knowledge.

The scientific discovery cycle (or scientific discovery process) is concerned with the impact of the knowledge obtained and its purpose is to obtain knowledge of a certain minimum impact level (namely, knowledge that is either radical, novel, or universal and, therefore, at least meets the standard for a minor class discovery).

The scientific method would be used to obtain relevant insight at various phases within the scientific discovery cycle (such as during articulation, evaluation, and verification).

Therefore, the scientific method is one set of activities in the scientist’s repertoire, which they can use to help them complete the evolution stages in the scientific discovery cycle.  They are connected, but distinct.

 

Summary

 

Phew!

That brings us to the end of my overview of the architecture of discovery that I have built as a way to develop better discovery training protocols and quantitative methods to identify patterns and correlations in discovery processes.

If you are someone who loves algorithms or self-improvement, then this architecture and way of conceptualizing discovery and how to achieve it is for you.

So much good stuff to talk about!

I’m really looking forward to writing the rest of the posts in this series.  Having these new words and concepts in my discovery arsenal has already helped me organize and conduct my research projects in a new way.  And it makes extracting nuggets of insight from examples of scientific discovery much more productive.

To wrap up this post, let me give you the very, very short, bullet-list version of “the architecture of scientific discovery” that I covered in this post:

  • Scientific discovery is just one of four human discovery capacities—including insight, invention, and innovation—in science and technology.

  • There are three vital qualities—radical, universal, and novel—any scientific study must have, or it should not be called a “scientific discovery.”

  • The significance of scientific discoveries can be grouped into three impact classes—minor, major, and legacy—which range from low to high impact.

  • The types of scientific discoveries you could make can be grouped into three learning categories—object, attribute, or mechanism—based on the information gained.

  • Most scientific discoveries must pass through five evolution stages—question, ideation, articulation, evaluation, and verification—to succeed.

With all these categories and types, it’s easy to fall into the trap of seeing things as black and white, or just buckets to assign things too.

But the definitions and concepts I’ve come up with work well because they allow us to see scientific discovery as a continuum of insight, from narrow to broad, from low impact to high impact, from fundamental to applied.

Every scientific investigation, every research study, every time you use the scientific method, you are placing yourself somewhere on that continuum of insight.  Discovery is always just a little way further along that scale.  The question you should be asking yourself is not “Am I making, or trying to make, a discovery?” it’s “Where on the discovery spectrum am I working right now?”

So next time someone challenges you on your impact, dream brave and think (or tell them), “I’m working on some (minor/major) research questions right now, but my dream is to leave a legacy discovery for future generations to build on.”

And hopefully with this discovery architecture in your mental repertoire, you will someday be able to do just that.

 

Interesting Stuff Related to This Post

 

  1. Thomas Kuhn and The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Wikipedia).
  2. Karl Popper and The Logic of Scientific Discovery (Wikipedia).
  3. Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy entry on “Scientific Discovery”.

 

Related Content on The Insightful Scientist:

 

The Scientist’s Log (Blog Posts)

 

The Scientist’s Repertoire (Tutorials)

 

Research Spotlight (Summaries)

 

The Illustrated Scientist (Printables)

 

How to cite this post in a reference list:

Bernadette K. Cogswell, “The Architecture of Scientific Discovery: Overview of the Process – On how to define and categorize all aspects of scientific discovery”, The Insightful Scientist Blog, June 13, 2020, https://insightfulscientist.com/blog/2020/architecture-of-scientific-discovery-overview.

 

[Page feature photoA quiet and quirky cabin sits among the mountains.  Photo by Torbjorn Sandbakk on Unsplash.]

Don’t Curate the Data

Don’t Curate the Data

It’s tempting when we talk to others about our ideas to only want to share the good stuff.  To only share the things we think are logical, sound reasonable, maybe only the things we think (or hope) will make us seem smart and focused.  But this tendency to re-frame our real experiences and distill them into nice little stories we can tell people over coffee or a beer can be a dangerous setback to getting better at a new skill set.

 

Trying Too Hard to Look Good

 

Why?  Because sometimes we are so busy trying to think about how to tell (or should I say sell) others on what we’re doing or thinking that we scrub our memories clean of the actual messy chain of events that led us to come up with the polished version.  That messy chain, and every twist, turn, and chink in its construction, is the raw knowledge from which we can learn about how we, or others, actually accomplish things.  I’ll call it “the data.”

So this fear of how others will perceive our process is one thing that gets in the way of having good data about our process.  We start to curate the data to make ourselves more acceptable to others.

But we need this data to gain a meaningful awareness of what we actually do to produce a certain outcome.  This is even more important when we try to figure out how to reproduce a mental outcome.

Maybe you came up with a winning idea once, but now you’re not sure how to get the magic back.  Or maybe you want to pass your strategy on to a younger colleague or friend, but don’t really know what you did.  Maybe you’re hoping to learn from someone else who succeed at thinking up a breakthrough solution, but they say “I really don’t remember what I did.  It just sort of came together.”

Which brings us to a second thing that works against having access to good data about our own interior processes and patterns.  Memory.

 

Mining Memory is a Tricky Business

 

We all know we don’t have good memories, even when we are trying hard (studying for tests in school, or trying to remember the name of every person in a group of ten new people you just met are classic examples).  Memory is imperfect (we have weird, uncontrollable gaps in what we retain).  Memory is selective (we have a tendency to be really good at remembering what happened during highly emotional events, but not during more mundane or routine moments).  Memory is pliable (the more we tell and retell a version of something that happened to us, the more likely we are to lose the actual memory in place of our story version).

These tricks of memory not only frustrate us when we try to observe and learn from ourselves, but also when we try to learn from others.

There have been lots of interviews with famous scientists who made discoveries asking them about how they did it.  But their self-reported stories are notoriously unreliable or have big gaps because they, like us, are subject to the fickle whims of memory and the hazards of trying to tell your own biography one too many times.  Mining memory for useful insights is a tricky business.

So memory and lack of awareness (or mindlessness) cause us to lose access to the precious data we need to be able to see our behaviors and patterns from a larger perspective in order to learn from them and share them.

When I first started learning about scientific discovery, recognizing these pitfalls of bad memory and mindlessness caused me a lot of annoyance.  I would think of a great example of a scientific discovery, such as a discovery that shared similarities with an area or question I wanted to make discoveries in.  I’d think, “Perfect!  I’ll go read up on how they did it, how they discovered it.  What were they reading, what were they doing, who were they talking to?”  But of course, answers to those questions wouldn’t exist!

Maybe the discovery was of limited interest so nobody bothered to ask those questions and now the discoverer had passed away.  Or maybe the discovery was huge and world changing but the histories told about it tended to re-hash the same packaged myths—like Newton and the apple falling inspiring ideas about gravity, or Einstein taking apart watches from an early age leading to picturing little clocks when working out the effects on time of traveling near light speed in special relativity.  Part fact, part fiction, these stories leave hundreds of hours of more mundane moments, links in the mental chain, unilluminated.  Good data that could guide future generations gets lost, sacrificed on the altar of telling a whimsical story.

So when I sat down in September of 2018 to start trying to work out a more modern definition of scientific discovery—something pragmatic that you could use to figure out what to do during all those mundane moments—I kept thinking about how to better capture that process of obtaining insights, as you go.

That’s when I realized we already have the methods the problem is we always want to curate the story told after the fact.  And rather than curating the data that make it into the story (i.e., creating an executive summary and redacting some things), we end up actually curating the source data itself (i.e., never gathering the evidence in the first place).  In other words, rather than just leaving out parts of the story, we actually tune out to parts of the story as we are living it, so that we literally lose the memory of what happened all together.

But that story is the raw data that fields like metascience and the “science of science” need to help figure out how scientists can do what they do, only better.  And as scientists we should always be the expert on our own individual scientific processes.  The best way to do that is to start capturing the data about how you actually move through the research process, especially during conceptual and thinking phases.  Capture the data, don’t curate the data.

 

A Series of Events

 

Let me give you a real life example to illustrate.  As I said, I sat down to try to come up with a new definition of scientific discovery.  I’m a physicist by training.  Defining concepts is more a philosopher’s job, so at first I had a hard time taking myself and any ideas I had seriously.  I got nowhere for three months; no new ideas other than what I had already read. Then one day a series of events started that went like this:

I read a philosophy paper defining scientific discovery that made me very unhappy.  It was so different than my expectation of what a good and useful definition would be that I was grumpy.  I got frustrated and set the whole thing aside.  I questioned why I was studying the topic at all.  Maybe I should stick to my calling and passion, physics.  I read when I’m grumpy, in order to get happy.  So I searched Amazon.  I came across a book by Cal Newport called So Good They Can’t Ignore You.  It argued that passion is a bad reason to pursue a career path, which made me even grumpier; so grumpy I had to buy the book in order to be able to read it and prove to myself just how rightfully disgruntled I was with the premise.

Newport stresses the idea of “craftsmanship” throughout his book.  I was (and still am) annoyed by the book’s premise and not sold on its arguments, but “craftsmanship” is a pretty word.  That resonated with me.  I wanted to feel a sense of craftsmanship about the definition of scientific discovery I was creating and about the act of scientific discovery itself.

I didn’t want to read anymore after Newport.  So I switched to watching Netflix.  By random chance I had watched a Marie Kondo tidying reality series on Netflix.  Soon after, Netflix’s algorithm popped up a suggestion for another reality series called “Abstract: The Art of Design.”  It was a series of episodes with designers in different fields, like architects, Nike shoe designers, theater and popstar stage shows set designers, etc.  It pitched the series as a behind the scenes look at how masters plied their craft.  Aha, craftsmanship again!  What coincidence.  I was all over it (this was binge watching for research, not boredom, I told myself).  I was particularly captivated by one episode about a German graphic designer, Christoph Niemann, who played with Legos, and whose work has graced the cover of The New Yorker more than almost any other artist.  The episode mentioned a documentary called “Jiro Dreams of Sushi.”

Stick with me.  Do you see where this is going yet?  Good, neither did I at the time.

So I hopped over to Amazon Prime Video to rent “Jiro Dreams of Sushi” about a Japanese Michelin rated chef and his lifelong obsessive, perfectionist, work ethic regarding the craft of sushi.  At one point the documentary showed a clip of Jiro being named for his Michelin star and they mentioned what the stars represent: quality, consistency, and originality.  Lightbulb moment!  Something about the ring of three words that summed up a seemingly undefinable craft (the art of creating delicious food) felt like exactly the template I needed to define the seemingly undefinable art of creating new knowledge about the natural world.

So I started trying to come up with three words that summed up “scientific discovery”.  Words that a craftsman could use to focus on elements and techniques designed to improve their discovery craft ability.  There were more seemingly mundane and off-tangent moments over a few more months before I came up with the core three keywords that are the basis of the definition I am writing up in a paper now.

The definition is highly unique, with each term getting its own clear sub-definition that helps lay out a way to critically examine a piece of research and evaluate it for its “discovery-ness”, i.e., its discovery potential or significance.  It’s also possible to quantify the definition in order to try and rank research ideas relative to one another for their discovery level (minor to major discovery).

It’s a lot better idea than some of the lame generic phrases that I came up with in the early days, like “scientific discovery is solving an unrecognized problem ” (*groan*).

On an unrelated track at that time, I was reading Susan Hubbuch’s book, Writing Research Papers Across the Curriculum, and had come across her idea that you create a good written thesis statement by writing out the statement in one sentence and then defining each keyword in your statement using the prompt “By <keyword> I mean…”.  So then I took the three keywords I had come up with and started drafting (dare I say crafting?) their definitions in order to clarify my new conception of “what is scientific discovery?”

So that’s the flow…my chain of discovery data:

Reading an academic paper led to disgust; disgust led to impulse spending; impulse spending brought in a book that planted the idea of craftsmanship; craftsmanship led to binge-watching; binge-watching led to hearing a nice definition of something unrelated; the nice definition inspired a template for how to define things; and simultaneously reading a textbook suggested how to tweak the template to get a unique working definition down on paper.

How do I know all this?  I wrote it down!  On scraps of paper, on sticky notes, in spiral notebooks, in Moleskines, in Google Keep lists, Evernote notes, and One Note notes (I was going through an indecisive phase about what capture methods to use for ideas).

I learned to not just write down random thoughts, but also to jot down what inspired the thought, i.e., what was I doing at the moment the thought struck—reading something, watching something, eating something, sitting somewhere, half-heartedly listening to someone over the phone…(Sorry, Mom!)?  Those are realistic data points about my own insight process that I can use later to learn better ways to trigger ideas. (And, no, my new strategy is not just to watch more Netflix.)

 

Make a Much Grander Palace of Knowledge

 

Instead of trying to leave those messy, mundane, and seemingly random instigators out, I made them part of my research documentation and noted them the way a chemist would note concentrations and temperatures, a physicist energies and momenta, a sociologist ages and regions.

And then I promised myself I wouldn’t curate the data.  I wouldn’t judge whether or not impulse book buying is a great way to get back on track with a research idea, or whether or not Marie Kondo greeting people’s homes with a cute little ritual is a logical method of arriving at a template to devise operational definitions.  I wouldn’t drop those moments from memory, or my records of the research, in order to try and polish the story of how the research happened.  I’ll just note it all down.  Keep it to review.  And maybe share it with others (mission accomplished).

Don’t curate the data, just capture the data.   Curation is best left to analysis, interpretation, and drawing conclusions, which require us to make choices—to highlight some data and ignore other data, to create links between some data and break connections among other data.  But think how much richer the world will be if we stop trying to just tell stories with the data we take and start sharing stories about how the data came to be.  The museum of knowledge will become a much grander palace.  And we might better appreciate the reality of what it is like to whole-heartedly live life as a discoverer.

 

 

Related Content on The Insightful Scientist

 

Blog Posts:

 

How To Posts:

 

Research Spotlight Posts:

 

How to cite this post in a reference list:

 

Bernadette K. Cogswell, “Don’t Curate the Data”, The Insightful Scientist Blog, August 2, 2019, https://insightfulscientist.com/blog/2019/dont-curate-the-data.

 

 

[Page Feature Photo: The gold dome in the Real Alcazar, the oldest used palace in Europe, located in Seville, Spain. Photo by Akshay Nanavati on Unsplash.]

Good Things Come in Threes

Good Things Come in Threes

Have you ever watched a movie or TV show, or read a book, where at the end of the story the main character saves the day by doing something unbelievable?   By unbelievable I mean that they do something completely out of character.  This kind of ending can leave a bad taste in your mouth, as if the writers didn’t do their job in making us believe the character had changed enough to become a person who could behave that way by the end.

When I was working on my degree in creative writing, there was a phrase that summed up the problem:

“Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern.”

The idea is that people open up to the possibility that something is plausible by seeing relevant elements happen enough times that we decide a pattern is believable.  It’s kind of a “conception through perception” game.  If a character behaves in ways that build up to the ending then we consider the ending reasonable.  But if we don’t see enough evidence then we find it hard to believe and the ending will seem like a cheap magic trick and a waste of our time (and money).

In my own experience, I’ve found it pays to be aware that this little rule of three affects not only how writers convince us of story endings, but also how we convince ourselves that some of our ideas merit pursuit.

That’s because deciding if a research idea is worth investigating is really about deciding if there’s enough of a pattern there to plausibly lead to an interesting ending…and hopefully that ending will be a scientific discovery.

So let’s talk about how to translate this magic of the number three from creative writing into research in a way that will help us decide if a research idea should move to the top of our to-do list or get shuffled to the back burner.

 

THREE…Essential Elements of an Idea

 

Most of our time as scientists is spent in the “articulation” and “evaluation” phases of scientific discovery.  Meaning, we worry a lot about defining our ideas and assessing if they are useful, correct, and/or meaningful.

In starting on a research topic, it can be hard to formulate a clear awareness of what we mean by new ideas.  And once we’ve jotted something down on paper, or typed it up, it can be difficult to decide if the idea seems worth focusing on.  The tendency is to have conversations in your head about it and then put it on the mental back burner because of the feelings of “riskiness” that working on discovery-level science can bring up.

If you’re stuck with a sense that you “have an idea”, but that you couldn’t yet share that idea with someone in a three-minute sound bite then here’s something to try.  You can write this down, type it up, do a voice memo, or some combo of all three.  Whatever works for you.  I’ll use pen-and-paper writing as my example since that’s how I prefer to work:

 

  1. Write down the idea you are trying to get clear in your head as a one word prompt. Stick to one word, no phrases or sentences.
  2. Spend a few minutes (no more than 15) just thinking about the idea behind your one-word prompt. Now, write down three more essential words that capture the heart of the idea.  These new words should sum up the essential elements, features, behaviors, or requirements of your prompt word.  Again stick to just three words, no phrases or sentences here either.  But you must write down at least three words, no less.
  3. Now create a list numbered one to three. For each number write down what you mean by each of the essential words.  You can write in phrases or sentences here.  But keep it to no more than 1-2 sentences per numbered item.  Start each numbered item with the prompt “By <essential word> I mean…”  You can spend up to one whole day to complete this list.  But finish this whole exercise (steps 1-3) in 24 hours or less.

 

This little exercise can help you generate a clearer picture of your idea by forcing you to pick and choose what matters most to you and define it.

That’s where you as a scientist bring your best asset, your personal diversity, to the playing field.  Don’t use other people’s words or definitions for this exercise.  Set your phone aside.  Don’t use Google.  Don’t use textbooks or published papers.  Just use what you’ve already got inside your head.

I cap the time you spend on it at 24 hours to keep you from overthinking it.  The goal here is to make a rapid decision—“research this” or “shelve this.”  You want to build momentum, not stall out in the graveyard of analysis paralysis.

The reason I say identify three essential words goes back to the accident-coincidence-pattern idea.  Three words is a good sweet spot to help make abstract ideas more concrete.  Think of it like triangulating a signal: getting three points of reference lets you narrow down and enclose your idea in a more well-defined area.

 

THREE…Sources of Information

 

At this point it’s helpful to get out of your own head and take a look at what other people are saying about your idea.  In theory, you probably started out by reading the work of others or listening to someone speak, which helped spark the idea you are working through now.  So you may already have some good sources to look over again.

The goal is to get three sources (by “source” I mean a written or spoken piece of work) you can compare against the idea you formulated in the previous exercise.  You want to read them (or re-read them) and compare how you formulated your idea to how the author(s) or speaker(s) formulated it.

The most important thing is to find good quality sources to help evaluate your idea.

If you don’t know how to find or consider sources for their quality, here are some tips:

  • Look for good quality information, not good quality authors. That means you want sources that are complete, accurate and have minimal bias (or consciously acknowledged bias).  Authors, writers, scientists, journalists, etc. are only human.  No one produces good quality work all the time.  Evaluate each information source individually; don’t just assume that famous names, or even people you know who usually do good work, put in that effort this time.  We all have off days.
  • Value sources that speak most directly to the idea you are working through with real data and more references to explore. Be open to traditional (peer-reviewed published articles, monographs, academic books, etc.) and nontraditional (blogs, popular science outlets, podcasts, etc.) sources.  Evaluate each source individually.  I usually rank items with real data (even if it’s just a thoroughly explained personal example) and that reference other good quality sources I can freely access (no paywalls) more highly than ones that are tangential to my topic or only talk in general terms.
  • Try to get a good variety in your three sources. Make sure they are all by different authors or speakers.  Try to get different perspectives in each one, i.e., the authors are from different fields, different career stages, different job sectors, are different genders, ethnicities, ages, nationalities, etc.  The sources don’t need to tick all these boxes, but do the best you can.  Try to ensure that you don’t rely too heavily on just one voice in the debate, which could cause you to repeat what’s already been done instead of trying something new.

 

Again, don’t over think this.  I’d limit the time you spend on this to one week.  Do the best you can with the information you have access to.

Once you’ve got these sources, spend some time reading them and noting the differences between how you articulated the idea and how they articulated the idea.  You’re looking for similarities, differences, things they mention that you left out completely, and things you mention that they ignore (this last one is where scientific discovery lives).

 

THREE…Mental Examples

 

Now it’s time to move out of the “rainbows and butterflies” world and into the “bricks and mortar” world.

What I mean by this is that in the beginning we tend to be pretty excited, enthusiastic, and confident about our own ideas when they’ve only existed in our head.  This is the “rainbows and butterflies” world.  These feelings are a good way to generate momentum to get started on a project and they encourage “thinking.”   But they’re not very helpful to encourage “doing.”  Doing requires having a clear idea of what the next action is.  That’s the “bricks and mortar” part.  Rainbows and butterflies are inspiring, they captivate and focus our mental attention, but they are hard to hold in your two hands.  With bricks and mortar it’s much easier to grasp how to start building something.

Applying your idea to examples is a way to get started on the bricks and mortar “doing” and to see if you’ve missed out on any major facets of defining your idea so that it’s open to scientific investigation.  I like my three examples to cover three types (three is still the magic number!):

  1. An example that fits your idea really well (an “exemplar”).
  2. An example that doesn’t fit your idea at all (a “counter-example”).
  3. An example where it’s hard to tell if it fits your idea or not (a “neutral example”).

 

Covering these three bases will encourage you to be deliberate and thoughtful and to assess your idea for its strengths (illustrated by the exemplar) its weaknesses (illustrated by the counter-example) and its limits and areas for improvement (illustrated by the neutral example).

You want to develop a more realistic understanding of what your idea is (you could tell someone about the exemplar in conversation as a way to help describe your idea) and to acknowledge its limits and shortcomings.

If the limits make the idea not useful, or the shortcomings show up for examples that are what you were trying to explain, then I find it’s best to go back and trying redefining my idea.  Try changing up the essential words or changing their definitions until you have an idea that holds up better to this simple evaluation method.

 

THREE…Drafts

 

Now you’re ready to put your idea into a working definition that you can make a decision on.

I know, I know: all of that work just to get to what most people consider the starting point for research!

That’s why the tagline for The Insightful Scientist is “Discovery awaits the mind that pursues it.”  Mental preparation and technique are a huge part of being a scientist and trying to make scientific discoveries.  Learning processes and strategies to wield our mindset more effectively is one of the best ways to run a winning race in pursuit of discovery.

The point of all this mental preparation is to give yourself a clear picture of where your idea stands and the challenges and advantages to trying to investigate it.  That is what gives you the ability to decide if it should move to the top of your to-do list or move to your mental back burner.

This last step ensures that you have something concrete to either (1) return to later if the idea doesn’t make the to-do list for now, or (2) act on right away if it does make your to-do list.

So set aside a day or two for this and type or write (no voice memos here) a formulation of your idea that is in complete sentences and includes both your prompt words, the essential words you identified, and their definitions.  Keep the entire working definition to a minimum of one sentence and a maximum of 5 sentences (i.e., a paragraph).  If you prefer word count goals, try for something in the 100 to 250 word range.

Write three drafts of your working definition:

  • First write a “rough draft” that just gets all the basic elements of your working definition (one word prompt, three essential words, definitions of those essential words) in there in grammatically correct language with proper spelling.
  • Then write a “second draft” that most likely changes some core features of the definition, like the essential words or their meanings, or adds on to clarify exactly what you mean.
  • Then write a “third draft” that tries to cut down on unnecessary words, overly complicated phrases, or overly technical words. Just include the essential in your definition, not the useful or the interesting.

 

Once you’ve got your third draft of your working definition it’s up to you to chart your own course and make a decision: are you going to research this idea or not?  With all that mental preparation you’re in a much better spot to make a more thoughtful decision and you could explain that decision to someone else.  Game. Set. Match.

 

Good Things Come in Threes

 

So that’s how I translated the idea of “Once is an accident, twice a coincidence, and three times a pattern” into a way of gathering information to decide what scientific ideas to pursue right now.  In fact, I just used it last week to finally decide that one of the many working definitions of “scientific discovery” I have come up with over the last 8 months is worth putting into a paper to submit to the open access philosophy journal Ergo by later this year.

It’s important to point out that this general rule of three is not (necessarily) sufficient for a scientific investigation to be rigorous.  That depends on the method being used.  This rule of three is more about how to decide if fledgling ideas or flashes of insight from brainstorms are worthy of becoming methodical scientific studies.  But as a general mental rule, especially if you’re feeling trepidatious, giving yourself a set of three (sources, examples, key words, ideas, sounding boards, etc.) can be an effective way to help you decide what makes the cut.

There’s another saying that also relies on the number three:  “Good things come in threes.”  In science accidents spark awareness, coincidences spark curiosity, and patterns spark discoveries.

So maybe there is power and magic to the number three.

Of course there’s only one way to find out if my anecdotal use of the number three will lead you to your own epic story of discovery: take a chance, roll the dice, and jump in with an open mind to try it out.

 

How to cite this post in a reference list:

 

Bernadette K. Cogswell, “Good Things Come in Threes”, The Insightful Scientist Blog, July 26,2019, https://insightfulscientist.com/blog/2019/good-things-come-in-threes.

 

[Page Feature Photo: Close up image of red dice. Photo by Mike Szczepanski on Unsplash.]

Misfits Matter

Misfits Matter

How to use the trial and error method to make a scientific discovery.

 

I like moving, exploring new places, and visiting friends and family (for short manageable doses).  I can put up with traveling for work.  But one thing never ceases to annoy me:  Whenever I take a shower for the first time in a new place, I can’t for the life of me get the knobs, handles, and faucets to work right the first time.  I spend at least five minutes trying to get the water to stop being boiling or freezing, or trying to get the dribble out of the shower head to be decent enough to rinse.  Maybe you can relate.

But I’ll bet it never occurred to you that how you solve this problem is really scientific discovery skills in action:  you start fiddling with all the water controls you can see.

That’s because it’s is a classic example of doing the right kind of trial and error.  So I’ll use it to outline what I think are four key dimensions that help structure trial and error for discovery:

  1. Putting in the right number of trials
  2. Putting in the right kinds of trials
  3. Putting in the right kind of error
  4. Putting in the right amount of error

The overall theme here is this — it ain’t called “trial and success” for a reason.  The errors are part of the magic…that special sauce…the je ne sais quoi…that makes the process work.

You may have seen versions of this idea in current business-speak around innovation and start-ups (the Lean build-measure-learn cycle anyone?).  But I needed to take it out of the entrepreneurial context and put it into a science one.

So let’s get down to brass tacks and talk about important aspects of trial and error.

 

4 Goals for Thoughtful “Trial and Error”

 

I’m going to keep the shower faucet analogy going because it’s straightforward to imagine hitting the goals for each dimension.  But to give this a fuller scientific discovery context I’ll add one technical example at the end of the post.

 

Dimension #1 — On putting the right number of trials into your trial and error.

 

Goal:

Keep running trials until you gain at least one valued action-outcome insight.

 

When you start out on a round of trial and error you are really aiming for complete understanding and the skill to make it happen on demand, with fine control.

In our shower analogy, that means it’s not just enough to know how to get water to come out of the spout.  You need to be able to control the water temperature, the water pressure, and make sure it comes out of the shower head and not the tub spout (if there is one).  Ideally, you’d learn enough to be able to manipulate the handles to produce a range of outcomes:  the temperature sweet spot for a summer day shower or a winter one; the right pressure for too much soap with soft water or for sore skin from the flu.

So one of the first things you have to figure out is: how do you know when to stop making trials?

This isn’t a technical post about conducting blind trials or sample surveys.  Here we’re talking about a more qualitative definition of done; the kind of thing you might try for an “exploratory study”.  Exploratory studies are the kind where you have no hypothesis going in.  Instead, you’re trying to find your way toward an unknown valued insight, not trying to prove or disprove a previous hypothetical insight.

The whole point of trial and error is to take a bunch of actions that will teach you how to create desired results by showing you what works (called “fits”), what doesn’t work (called “misfits”), and forcing you to learn why.

The “why” is the valued insight you’re after.

If you’ve run enough trials to figure out how to make something happen, that’s good, but not enough.  For scientific discovery you need to know precisely why and precisely how it works.

So keep running trials until you’ve come up with an answer to at least one why question.

 

Dimension #2 — On putting the right kinds of trials into your trial and error.

 

Goal:

Try a mixture of fits and misfits.

 

A key facet of trial and error is that by intentionally generating mistakes it will help create insight into how to generate success.

Partly, these trials are about firsthand experience.  Your job is to move from “wrong-headed” ideas to “right-tried” experiences.  To make changes to how you operate you have to clearly label and identify two things in your trial and error scenario–“actions I can take” and “results I want to control”.

Good trial and error means that you will: (1) learn the range of actions allowed; (2) try every possible major action to confirm what’s possible and what’s not; and (3) learn from experience which actions produce what outcomes.

In the last section I brought up the terms fit and misfit: in some science work, getting a match between an equation you are trying and the data is called a “fit” and getting a mismatch between the two is called a “misfit”.

So in science terms, that means you want your trials to be a mixture of things you learn will work (fits), things you learn won’t work (misfits), and, if possible, things where you have no idea what will happen (surprises).

For my shower analogy, let’s use a concrete example: the shower in my second bathroom, which both my mom and aunt have had to use (and, rightfully, complained about).

A photo of the handles that control the shower in my guest bathroom in my UK apartment.

So, for “actions I can take”: rotate left handle, rotate right handle, or pull the lever on the left handle.  And for “results I want to control”: the water temperature and the amount of water coming out of the shower head.

Then, I start moving handles and levers individually.  Every time I move a handle and don’t get the outcome I want, it’s a mistake.  But I’m doing it intentionally, so that I can learn what all the levers do.

Many of these attempts will be misfits, producing no shower at all or cold water or whatever.  Some may accidentally be fits.  Hopefully, none will produce surprises (though I have had brown water and sludge come out of faucets before).

I think this visceral experience is what allows your mind to stop rationalizing why standard approaches and methods should work and get on with seriously seeking out new and novel alternatives that actually work.

And these new and novel alternatives, with their associated insights, are the soul of scientific discovery.

So you want to move into this open-minded, curious, active participant and observer state as quickly as possible and trying fits and misfits will help you do that.

 

Dimension #3 — On putting the right kind of error into your trial and error.

 

Goal:

Make both extreme and incremental mistakes.

You know the actions you can take.  But you need to figure out why certain actions lead to certain results.

One great way to do this is to try the extreme of each action.

If it’s safe (or you have a reasonable expectation of safety) then pull the lever to the max, rotate the faucet handle all the way, cut out almost everything you thought was necessary, and see what happens.

In physics, this goes by the name “easy cases”.  What we really mean is use the extreme values, zero, negative infinity, or positive infinity.  Plug them in to your model and see what happens.  Does it break things?  Does it give wonky answers?  Does it lead to a scenario where the role of one term in the equation becomes clearer?

That’s the beauty of extreme tests when you’re doing trial and error.  They let you crank up the volume on factors so that you can pinpoint what they might do, how they might operate in your context.

So what about making “incremental” mistakes?  Just nudging things a little this way and a little that way to see what happens?

These are absolutely necessary too, and tend to happen later on in your trial and error process.  They are a great way to confirm and refine your understanding.

If you want to boil it down, making mistakes at the extreme ends of the action cycle hones your “this-does-that” knowledge, while making mistakes in small incremental steps helps clarify “how” knowledge.

So, often times, it’s best to go after extreme cases in the early trials and then move toward incremental cases later on.  For example, with the shower handles, early on you’ll probably try rotating one handle all the way to the right or left to figure out which direction brings hot water.  Later on, you’ll turn the handle a little bit at a time, until you get the right temperature.

 

Dimension #4 — On putting the right amount of error into your trial and error.

 

Goal:

Make mistakes until you can link all major actions with outcomes.

 

This one is easy enough to grasp.  To put it more bluntly: how many times should you mess up on purpose?

The goal statement says it all: make enough mistakes that you can link all major actions with outcomes in your mind, and you know why they are linked the way they are.

Just imagine if you were told that every move you made to try and set a shower, where you didn’t know the knobs at all, had to only be moving toward the right outcome (no errors allowed).  How the heck would you succeed?  You would have to look up a manual, or find someone who had used the shower before.  It would probably slow the process down to a painstaking pace.  It would stress you out.  And it would need pre-existing insight into how to do it right.

But in discovery, you won’t have that kind of prior insight.  No one does.  So you have to be willing to gets things wrong in order to start to generate that insight.

So keep getting it wrong in your trials until you really get why it doesn’t work.  Don’t avoid those misfit moments.  You should be able to make a table or a mind map of links between actions and outcomes.  If you can’t, keep making errors until you can.

 

The Four Trial and Error Dimensions in a Real Physics Research Example

 

I promised I would connect the ideas I’ve talked about to a science example, so let me do that:

For my Ph.D. neutrino physics work, at one point I had to write a piece of computer code that could reproduce a final plot and numbers in an already published paper, by the MINOS neutrino oscillation experiment, to make sure our code modeled the experiment well.  First, I wrote some code (to estimate the total number of neutrino particles we predicted this experiment to see at a certain energies) based on how my research group had always done it.  Then I wrote down in my research notebook how the existing code had previously been tweaked to produce a good match.  One value had been hand-set, by trial and error, to fit.

In the newer data published at the time, we knew this tweak no longer worked.  But at first I just tried it anyway (try misfits).  Then I started changing the values in the code (make incremental changes).  And we added a few new parameters that we could adjust and I altered those values (try unknowns).  I kept detailed hand lists of the results of my changes on the final output numbers (link actions to outcomes).

Then I synthesized these behaviors into new groupings: did it make the results too big, too small, by a little, by a lot?  Did it skew all the results or just the results at certain energies?  Was it a consistent overall effect, or some weird pattern effect?

At this point I kept many code versions to be able to have a record of the progression of my trials (fancy versioning software isn’t commonly used in small physics groups).

A screenshot showing some of the folders and files from my Ph.D. computer codes that required trial and error.

And I did handwritten notes where I worked through why certain outcomes weren’t produced and others were (try until you get insight).

 

Then I did it again.  And again.  And we did it for 10 more experiments totaling…well, a LOT of code.

In the end we got a good match and we were able to use it to complete my Ph.D. work, which explored the impact of a mathematical symmetry on our current picture of the neutrino particle.

So, trial and error, being able to willfully make mistakes to gain insight, can be incredibly powerful and remains a uniquely human skill.

As a 2011 study from Nature suggested, non-expert video gamers (i.e., many with no education in the topic beyond high school level biology) out-predicted a world-leading machine algorithm, designed by expert academic biochemists and computer scientists, in coming up with correct 3-D protein shapes, because they made mistakes on purpose while generating intermediate trial solutions.

Algorithms, by design, are constrained to do only one thing: get a better answer than they had before.  Every step must be forward; even temporary small failures are not allowed.

But we’re messy humans.

We can take two steps back for every one step forward, or even cartwheel off to the side when the rules say only walking is allowed.  Our ability to strategically move in “the wrong direction” (briefly taking us farther away from a goal) in order to open up options that in the long-run will move us in “the right direction” (nearer the goal) is part of our human charm and innate discovery capacity.  But that requires we acknowledge up front that in pursuit of discovery many trials will be needed, and many of them will not succeed.

 

Mantra of the Week

 

Here is this week’s one-liner; what I memorize to use as a mantra when I start to get off-track during a task that’s supposed to help me innovate, invent, and discover:

Misfits matter.

Using trial and error in a conscious, structured way can move use from having thoughts on something to experiences in something.  Notice how “thoughts on” speaks to the surface, like a tiny boat on a broad ocean; while “experiences in”, speaks to the depths, like a diver in deep water. So try.  And err.  Welcome error by remembering that misfits matter and that a deep perspective is where radical insight awaits.  In taking two steps back for every one step forward, those two steps back aren’t setbacks, they’re perspective.

 

Final Thoughts

 

So let’s recap the ideas and examples I’ve talked about in this post:

  • I shared the four dimensions that help define strategic trial and error: putting in the right kind and number of trials, and putting in the right kind and amount of error.
  • I shared an example of how trial and error has been used in my own physics work and in biology to get useful insights.

Have your own recipe or experiences related to trial and error?  You can share your thoughts by posting a comment below.

 

Interesting Stuff Related to This Post

 

  1. Web Article – “Insight”, Wikipedia entry, https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Insight.
  2. Web article – Ed Yong, “Foldit – tapping the wisdom of computer gamers to solve tough scientific puzzles” Discover magazine website, Not Exactly Rocket Science Blog, August 4, 2010, http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/notrocketscience/2010/08/04/foldit-tapping-the-wisdom-of-computer-gamers-to-solve-tough-scientific-puzzles/#.XKPkLaZ7kWo.
  3. Website – MINOS neutrino oscillation experiment, http://www-numi.fnal.gov/.

 

How to cite this post in a reference list:

 

Bernadette K. Cogswell, “Putting the Error in Trial and Error”, The Insightful Scientist Blog, March 22, 2019, https://insightfulscientist.com/blog/2019/misfits-matter.

 

[Page Feature PhotoAn ornate faucet at the Hotel Royal in Aarhus, Denmark. Photo by Kirsten Marie Ebbesen on Unsplash.]

The Re-Education of an Educated Mind

The Re-Education of an Educated Mind

I once told a fellow graduate student at a nuclear physics summer school that, “I don’t speak math.”  He found this very funny, and me very funny.  But I absolutely meant it.  In fact, I was angry about it.  By that time, I had already met the sleep-depriving scientific discovery question I’ve dreamed of answering for the last decade.  I had been trying to solve it.  It’s why I attended the nuclear physics summer school at all.  It was considered “outside my area”, since my Ph.D. advisor and I had agreed I would declare my concentration as particle physics.  I thought gaining more knowledge would help me make progress.  But then I discovered that I don’t speak math.  I read math.  I calculate math.  I derive math.  But I don’t speak math.

In my current conception of the scientific discovery cycle the flow goes like this: question → ideation → articulation → evaluation → verification, with constant feedback between phases, and the ability to reset to an earlier phase as needed.  At the time of the nuclear physics summer school, I had the question in mind and I’d come up with three possible ideas for answers.  But my efforts completely died at “articulation”, re-phrasing my mental conceptualization of each answer as mathematical equations, because I didn’t speak math.

What do I mean by “speak” math?  And how is this different from reading and calculating?

Put it in another context.  As someone who idly studied five languages besides my native English (no, I can’t speak them all now) and who has a parent who raised me as semi-bilingual and does her professional work in at least two languages, I’ve experienced the feeling of “reading without speaking” many times before.

“Read” means I can identify things on signs that I’ve memorized or seen before.  “Read” means that I can sometimes derive related things, like word signs for the women’s toilet in a restaurant versus the signs I saw at the airport.  “Read” means I can muddle through restaurant menus, especially if there are pictures.

“Speak”, on the other hand, means I can mention to a restaurant server that the ladies’ room is out of toilet paper.  “Speak” means I can make a special meal request that’s not on the menu at all.  “Speak” means I can compose a Physicist’s Log entry about scientific discovery, even when I’m not sure how to define it, how to describe it, or how to achieve it.

“Read” means recognition, “speak” means “creation”.  While I can read math just fine, I can’t create new mathematical expressions with meaning off the top of my head, the way I can churn out sentences in a log entry.  Because I “can’t speak math”, there’s a bottleneck in my discovery cycle, right at the phase of articulation.

I’ve spent years since that summer school digging around looking for practices to help relieve the bottleneck:  Do more math! (Funny how more reading doesn’t equal better speaking.)  Try Fermi questions! (Back of the envelope calculations to answer odd questions about everyday life; but mostly just add and multiply things.)  Just practice modeling!  (Writing down just the starting equation, given any kind of physics word problem.  But this assumes you already know the physics and just need to recognize it in the problem.  What happens when nobody knows the physics yet?)

It wasn’t until I started studying cognitive psychology and scientific discovery that I came across a new option in a book called Where Mathematics Come From:  How the Embodied Mind Brings Mathematics Into Being, written by George Lakoff and Rafael Nunez, a linguist and a psychologist team who study the mind and mathematics.  Their theory is simple: all mathematics comes from lived sensory-motor experience that we then translate into the domain of mathematics via conceptual metaphor.  ALL mathematics; addition, subtraction, the concept of numbers, imaginary numbers, algebra, trigonometry, and on and on.  The final case study they do of the famous Euler equation and all the conceptual metaphors it requires is fascinating.  Most interesting in their theory is the sense that mathematics is not just derived (recognized, manipulated, objectively discovered), but that it can also be contrived (built, constructed, subjectively created).

In Lakoff and Nunez’s scheme, one could learn to speak math.  One could learn to construct mathematical expressions in the same way we construct sentences by consciously, explicitly building math expressions based on careful selection and combination of the underlying embodied metaphors (and still strictly adhering to the operational ground rules of math).  That this is based on conceptual metaphor (closely aligned to analogy and, hence, scientific discovery), and that the metaphors are based on physical experience (suited to a physics focus on the natural world), was music to my ears.

So, I may not speak math yet.  What’s more, taking Lakoff and Nunez’s approach may require a little re-education when it comes to how I think about math.  But now I know speaking math is possible.  And in the pursuit of scientific discovery, the re-education of an educated mind is a small price to pay to keep the discovery cycle alive.

Base 10

Base 10

What does it mean to have a canon?  In English studies this is usually a body of texts that it’s assumed most serious scholars have read deeply and which somehow embody whatever characteristics or themes are deemed most relevant to a given perspective (e.g., a Western canon, a Shakespearean canon, a post-colonial literature canon, and so on).  In other words, the members of a canon act as pillars in the foundation of a shared body of knowledge.

In physics, we don’t really have a canon.  There are many famous historical papers and a few books and textbooks, but mandatory deep study and a shared list of “why these are canonical” (even if hotly debated) is not really in our culture.  There are perhaps, to a degree, canonical problems—physics problems everyone sees and attempts (recognizing that, ironically, who your “everyone” is will vary by sub-field).  These are most often presented in one of two groupings: by subject (mechanics, thermodynamics, astrophysics, etc.) or by math (differential equations, group theory, etc.).  Only ever so rarely are these problems grouped by core concept in any consistent way (perhaps Feynman’s three volume lecture series is the best example here).

My roving imagination and mind were hard at work again when I came across a piece about speed reading.  What captured my attention most was the emphasis to (1) first learn the technique, then (2) practice the technique for speed ignoring comprehension, then (3) practice the technique at speed with comprehension.  For a while, it has seemed to me that analogical thinking is a good test case for a discovery strategy applied to active, professional research.  But how to do that?

I have some ideas for how to synthesize a few operational analogical processes, which I’m hoping to work on with the help of master’s students this Fall semester.  But the speed reading piece reminded me that practice is key.  So how to practice?  Well, in English studies you practice critical thinking skills on the canon where you can compare your results with others, then you venture out into other non-canonical areas.  In physics our own canon is problems, so that means that to study and practice discovery strategies one will need a good discovery canon.  I’ve nicknamed the physics discovery canon I’m developing “Base 10.”

In my experience as an undergraduate student I always followed what I called “The Rule of 10”: practice a new math technique ten times before applying it to what you actually want to solve.  This was a necessary expedient since, by the time I started back in on my physics degree, it had been 5 or 6 years since I had studied the subject and I took the minimum number of courses (which meant little math) to get out of undergraduate and on to graduate school as quickly as possible (a money problem, not a time problem).

But of course, this rule of ten strategy also requires problems to practice on.  Hence, base 10 as a general rule for the number of test cases I need to try something out.  Now my natural inclination toward favoring analogical discovery strategies over others, combined with another math-inclined strategy known as “easy cases” (aka “toy models” where you keep the simple stuff and leave out the complicated details) has led me to believe that the standard groupings of physics problems may not be suited to my needs.  I need more conceptually useful categories right now, not categories that are mathematically similar or topic dependent.  It’s just a hunch, but worth an attempt.

So, I am slowly compiling my base 10 physics discovery canon to practice discovery strategies on.  The worst that happens is a little trial and error (technically, another discovery strategy which goes by the formal name of “generate and test”).  And if it doesn’t work out then, as I always tell my students, there’s a reason why it isn’t called “trial and success.”

Find Your ARQ

Find Your ARQ

Every good story needs an arc: a master strategy that drives all the action from start to finish.  Something that, for the writer, guides every word written with the knowledge that an outcome must be obtained: the arc must begin and end.  It cannot run off to infinity.  Are not research undertakings much the same way?  You must achieve some end, be it innovation, new knowledge, new technique, or discovery.  And, as the lead researcher, you must keep that in mind at all times, allowing it to guide your actions.

Of course, this is just an analogy.

But I am struck by how frequently analogies and analogical thinking appear in the literature on discovery.  In cognitive psychology some consider analogy one of the key problem solving skills in working at the boundary of knowledge. It appears again in research on problem solving where written, drawn, and even animated analogies have been studied.  It’s even factored into relevant concepts like design innovation.

So I find it a great irony that, despite general agreement that analogical thinking plays a role (and possibly a crucial one) in scientific discovery; despite the fact that analogy appears almost universally as a reasoning skill across cultures; despite the fact that analogy can be applied to any human knowledge domain and that analogy can use as source material any human knowledge domain; analogy is called in the technical jargon a “weak problem solving method” (in reference to its general domain use; versus “strong” methods, which are highly domain specific). If ever a bit of technical jargon did a disservice to its meaning, I think it’s here.

In physics we tend to marginalize analogical thinking as something handy for pedagogy, or public engagement, or just private understanding.  [Here I refer to conceptual analogy; not mathematical analogy, which is used heavily in physics.]  But we rarely envisage analogical thinking as a systematic, efficient, front-line professional research strategy for even “low hanging fruit” questions, let alone for the serious and risky business of discovery.  But the research suggests to me that it can be.

Which brings me back to the analogy of an arc.

Initially, I struggled to develop a clear strategy in pursuing scientific discovery.  In other words, I struggled to find my story arc.  But it now seems to me that the main task of scientific discovery and scientific inquiry is to explicate new analogies–to draw links between the known world and still unknown aspects of Nature.

If I define analogy as a way of identifying similarities between seemingly dissimilar things, isn’t that the very foundation of what we do in physics?  To say that an apple falling from a tree and a planet orbiting the sun are both acted upon and behave that way through the same concept of gravity is the mental act of finding similarity in the apparently disparate.  In fact, to say that any set of behaviors or characteristics, for any observable, physical system, can be explained by a common law, function, or model seems a pretty radical act of analogy to me.  So, each and every scientific research question is in some nuanced way an analogical research question…or a scientific ARQ, you might say.

There is still much more to this story of course.  There is a great deal of deeply thoughtful research about analogies—qualitative, quantitative, and operational.  Ideas about how to use it to communicate, to educate, to investigate.  Frameworks for how to define the relationship between the source domain of the analogy and the target domain where it is applied.  And on and on.  I believe this research contains some of the first scientific discovery strategies to formalize and try.  But this will not be an easy task.  Still, at least now I have the first step in pursuit of discovery…

The first step toward discovery is to find your ARQ.