Problem-solving: step by step

As the resident household chemist, my college-age kids have routinely asked me to check chemistry problems for them—and I’m happy to do so. That said, sometimes I get stuck, and this is not fun for them or me, after all, I am expected to be the domain knowledge expert! Recently, we had a particularly challenging problem come up, and neither of us was able to get the correct answer.

When I was a student (many moons ago), there were answers at the back of the text for the odd exercises. If you were lucky, there was a solutions guide for all the practice problems. With online materials, every answer is available, and many have examples on how to solve the exercises, and for this particular case, when the solution was requested, we were presented with a single equation that incorporated all the information provided in the problem with the unknown variable, x, appearing on both sides of the equation. Below, the equation was the answer.

x = 0.217

?!?!

I looked at the equation and then looked at the answer—repeatedly.

I don’t get frustrated with first-year chemistry too often, but this exercise was presenting a challenge and then to have the solution be nothing more than a single equation with no explanation left me exasperated.

Ten-steps later!

I have no idea why the publisher didn’t include a real solution, after all, it’s not like they need to conserve trees, but summarizing a complex problem to a single equation without additional context was less than helpful. For my eventual solution, each step documented the progression from what was known, to the unknown, and when completed, we understood the scope of the problem and how this problem fit into the section.

Sometimes, all we need is the answer—0.217. Sometimes, we need more—or we need to provide more. Were all ten steps required for this problem? Maybe not as some steps may have been self-evident, but for complex issues, I would prefer to receive too much information as opposed to too little.

Do we need physical textbooks?

After an 18-year hiatus from teaching, I had the chance to teach an applied statistical techniques course this past spring. Feedback from the students was mostly positive, and the negative comments were expressed as constructive criticisms which I found insightful and actionable. For myself, the overall experience was positive, and I’m looking forward to building on the work and teaching the class again next year.

Along the way, I’ve also been tackling some data analysis problems using R, and a common theme has become apparent between teaching the class and my work—textbooks are obsolete.

For the course, only online materials from two sites were used as “required” readings, and except for the one weekend when the host website for one of the online books went down, there were no issues. (This did cause some stress, and fortunately, the site had provided all the material for download; however, the possible need to distribute this material made me temporarily question my selection of using only online materials.)

The other primary reading for the course is using a relatively new format called Bookdown. If the platform sustains support from the developers, this may revolutionize the way technical books—especially textbooks—are published.

When looking for a “book” on forecasting, I was pleasantly surprised to find a resource that had both a physical copy (available on Amazon, of course) and an online version. And while the theme for this new book was distinct, at the bottom of the page, there was an acknowledgment “Published . . . with bookdown,” which was the same method as the book above.

In addition to online books, online videos (mostly hosted on YouTube)  are providing content on implementation. Need an example of how to implement that function call in R? Someone has probably recorded a demo on that very topic. In teaching the class, I felt less like the disseminator of information and more like the curator—presenting content in an organized manner that allowed the students to gain new knowledge and skills.

I still buy books and having an option to buy a physical copy is definitely a plus, but it’s quickly moving away from being a requirement. It has never been easier to learn something new.

On being a professional problem solver

I spent one morning on a recent weekend with my oldest daughter at the Tracy Aviary here in Salt Lake City. I never considered myself a “bird” person; however, my daughter’s academic interest in animal behavior has sparked a before unregistered curiosity. Recently, a new space for Kea’s was opened giving the birds a large area and visitors a much better chance to observe their behavior. Kea’s are an olive-green parrot from New Zealand; I had read they were good problem solvers, but I had underestimated what this meant.

During our recent visit, the staff assembled close to a dozen puzzles built using everyday household items–PVC pipe, plastic containers, balls, etc.—each one designed to be solved with the reward being treats falling out when successfully disassembled. As the staff member worked, the Kea would immediately take to solving the puzzle. But here is the strange part—the Kea didn’t eat the treats. He went quickly to the next puzzle. The reward wasn’t the treat, but releasing of the items from captivity.

The reward was solving the problem.

When asked to describe “what I do,” I used to respond that I was a “professional problem solver.” Although my academic background is chemistry, it’s been quite a while since I worked in the field.

As a professional problem solver, it is easy to get caught up in the excitement of tackling the most current—often urgent—problem. Behaving just like the Kea.

It’s taken time, but I no longer jump into problem-solving mode at the drop of a hat; I have found looking for meaningful impact to be a more meaningful reward. I wish I had learned this early in my career.

While solving an isolated, single problem has immediate rewards, working on a problem that has impact takes time and requires multiple steps and is part of a comprehensive strategy (i.e., the solution is part of a BIGGER problem). After all, the first part of any good strategy is diagnosing the problem—we don’t design strategy around non-problems.

While we can be amazed at the problem-solving skills of the Kea, make a point not follow his example. We don’t want to be trapped solving problems for rewards that we don’t need—rewards that don’t have an impact.

We don’t want to get caught up in the high-tech version of busy-work.

My current professional role is much easier to define; however, I still consider myself a professional problem solver—a professional problem solver who seeks problems that when solved will have a meaningful impact on either my organization or the individuals I get to work with.

Volunteering your time

As professionals, time is a valuable commodity.
I don’t particularly like that statement as the word “commodity” implies abundance; however, we do trade commodities for money, and in the case of time, most of us trade our time for a salary.

Memory chips are a commodity. Apples are a commodity.
We treat time as a commodity, but it should be a treated as a resource.

Resources are limited. Copper and gold in the ground are resources. Clean water is a resource. While oil is treated as a commodity due to its historical abundance, at some point, it will be priced based on scarcity or the increased difficulty in extraction.

Time? Perhaps it depends on your point of view. As an employer, time is a commodity—I can purchase time at a market rate from any number of providers. As an employee, time is a valuable resource that is limited and always decreasing.

Taking time to volunteer means donating your most valuable resource to an organization that, hopefully, doesn’t treat it like a commodity.

I now work on both sides of this equation—I ask people to volunteer their time, and I donate my time to other groups. As someone who now asks folks for their time, I have become more aware of the value of my time. I don’t want it wasted. I want it to help the organization and its mission.

If you are a volunteer, I encourage you to consider taking a leadership role in an organization you support. Most likely, you’ll be asked to ask of others. I’m confident it will put a new perspective on how you view (and value) your time.

Story Time

A collection of facts is not a story. If you have the chance to give a presentation, why would you talk about only facts? What is the story?

As scientists, we like to focus on facts—facts are safe, they aren’t up for debate. Facts (i.e., data) are what we agree to before we start the discussion; the discussion that follows can focus on the interpretation of the data, but the facts—the data—is not up for debate. (At least by the time you get to the point where you are giving a presentation.)

When we think of a story, we probably assume three acts: a beginning, a middle, and the end. But framing a presentation in this framework can cause worry to a business audience. It’s often helpful in this setting to provide the bottom-line-up-font (BLUF). Yes, it gives away the ending, but this technique creates a useful top-down narrative that anyone with too many meetings on their calendar will appreciate.

If you want to engage the audience—whether one, five, twenty or a hundred—tell us the story behind the data. It doesn’t have to be a long, drawn-out tale, but it needs to be enough to provide context and justify the time commitment you are asking us to give.

Building New Skills

There is no better gig than getting paid to learn.

In August of last year, I decided to take on the challenge of teaching an applied statistical techniques course—one small problem—I’m not a statistician. Like most scientist and engineers, I’ve used (and abused) statistics all my entire career, so I do have experience with the concepts. Also, my math skills are not too shabby as I have incorporated calculus, differential equations, and other advanced topics into my work over the years. (Yes, some people do use algebra.) The good news? I had about four months before the first day of class and enough control over my schedule where I could commit 10+ hours per week to develop the course content. The real challenge was to create the course using R, a language, and environment for statistical computing and graphics. Being open about my own abilities, I was not proficient with this language.

With this in mind, I set out to create the course—with emphasis on the “applied” and “techniques.” Starting in the fall, I developed a module that students would work through each week. I estimated my 10–12 hours of work each week would translate into the three hours of material for each class and this worked out surprisingly well.

The course is coming to an end this week, and the best part of the experience was how much I learned (or maybe relearned). But most surprising, it was how much I learned the SECOND time I worked through the materials during the weeks I taught the course.

I classify skill sets at three levels:

  • novice: apply basic principles to solve structured problems,
  • hack: gather external resources to solve moderately complex problems,
  • expert: apply advanced principles to solve complex problems with the minimal use of external resources.

I still consider myself a hack when it comes to performing statistical analysis using R, but having the opportunity to expand my own skill set and providing a framework for others to learn something new—that was a great gig.

Kindness

It is an unfortunate truth that as you get older, you start paying more attention to the obituaries than when you were young.

I recently read about the death of a someone I have fond memories. I hadn’t seen this person in probably 25 or 30 years, but as a young man, they had a significant impact on how I should view the world—to be kind.

Every once in a while we need to be reminded of the events and people who shaped our lives for the better. An obituary is a final remembrance. As I was recently reminded, obituaries are about life. In this case a reminder to embody the kindness that was shown to me as a young man and how it was shown to others.

Computer science for everyone!

Really? For everyone?

I think I agree with the idea of teaching computer science in every Utah school as presented in a recent Silicon Slopes post; however, I wasn’t sure what that means.

What would universal computer science education opportunities for K-12 students in Utah include? Afterall, computer science is a broad discipline which can cover topics as:

Algorithms and Computational Geometry
Architecture and VLSI
Data, Databases and Information Management
Formal Methods and Verification
Graphics and Animation
Image Analysis
Human-Computer Interaction
Machine Learning and Natural Language Processing
Networking, Embedded Systems, and Operating Systems
Parallel Computing
Programming Languages and Compilers
Robotics
Scientific Computing
Visualization

Which of these topics are appropriate for K—12? (I compiled the list above from the University of Utah’s department of computer science website.)

I would assert that, currently, only a small fraction of K—12 students participate in Computer Science as defined by the topics above. Robotics is the most obvious example where we see activity, but because of student interest and not part of a broader curriculum. Robotics is an interesting example because it encompasses multiple aspects of computer science (as defined above) including human-computer interaction, programming, networking, and embedded systems. The depth of knowledge needed for each of these will depend on the project; however, it is an example where teachers can integrate multiple projects into the K—12 curriculum.

But would an area like robotics be helpful to all students?

Perhaps a better idea is to add a “computer science” learning objective to the current core curriculum. What would be possible in science courses today?

Biology, Chemistry, Physics, could all incorporate areas such as data visualization and basic scientific computing (i.e., using computers to solve problems), but working with programming languages, compilers, parallel computing, formal verification?

Before jumping on the computer science bandwagon, we need to ask a straightforward question: What knowledge do want students to demonstrate upon graduation from high school?

My observation is that students receive very little formal training on what we would probably claim as necessary computer skills: writing using a word processor, working with spreadsheets and databases, etc. How much of the Microsoft Office (or LibreOffice or GoogleDocs or “insert your favorite, regular computer tasks here”) should students know when they leave high school? These skills are not computer science, but they are useful tools to have in one’s toolbelt.

Do schools offer “typing?” During my first university teaching position, I asked students to type their reports. One student told me directly that she went to a private school and didn’t “type.” (In a voice indicating that she believed typing was below her—this statement was made the late 90s, so computers were not ubiquitous as they are today.) To this day, I am happy I took typing in high school; it has made work using a keyboard easier. Would this be considered an essential skill needed for computer science? Typing, as taught before typewriters became extinct, was targeted towards vocational workers; has it risen in status? I think the proper term today is “keyboarding;” however, is it still treated as a vocational course? Probably so.

If we advocate teaching computer science in K-12 classrooms, we need to define what skills we want students to master accurately. These skills are not going to be determined by the computer science departments; they’re going to be set by the disciplines who have adopted technology as part of their work. In math, students should have the opportunity to explore mathematical equations by defining the function, ranges, etc., as they explore new concepts, but only after understanding how to work through the problems manually. Biology, chemistry, and physics can all implement data analysis, scientific computing, visualization, and other topics into the classroom, but it can’t be at the expense of building a basic understanding of the underlying principles. Building a solid foundation is critical before jumping into complex problems that need the tools of computer science.

I hope someone is carefully thinking this through.

What would be the cost of public financed college?

For the taxpayers of Utah, 1% —1.5% is my best guess.

Bernie Sanders promoted “free college” during the 2016 Democratic Primaries; unfortunately, Senator Sanders wasn’t able to articulate that message into a winning strategy. Democrats, in general, are failing to capitalize on an issue that should resonate with the majority of Americans.

Who is concerned about college cost? If it’s not everybody, it should be. There are nearly 120,000 students enrolled in Utah’s colleges and universities. With approximately 900,000 households, we can estimate that more than 1 in 10 households have a college student and are directly impacted by the cost of college. I would wager that families with school-age children (K-12) are equally concerned. Add grandparents to the equation,  what percentage of Utah households are concerned? You and all these people — hundreds of thousands if not a one to two million — who want the next generation to succeed.

If the cost of college were negligible, wouldn’t the majority of these people (parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, neighbors) consider college a worthwhile option?

If the definition of a public institution is one that receives the majority of its funding from the public, then the state of Utah is on the verge of losing its public institutions of higher education (Table 1).

tution and tax funds per utah higher ed TABLE 1

So, I want to pose a question: What would it cost to fund public higher education fully?

In Utah, the total FY 2016 budget was $14.2 billion; 12% of that was for Higher Education — approximately $1.7 billion. This amount is the Operating and Capital Budget. Students currently spend roughly $680 million in tuition and fees (Table 2). To fully fund higher education would require increasing the amount of money spent on higher education by 40% — but this is less than a 5% increase in the total state budget.

tution and tax funds per utah higher ed TABLE 2

What would this mean to taxpayers? Census estimates show Utah having just over 900 thousand households in 2016; the median household income was $61,000. A back-of-the-envelope calculation would have the typical family pay less than $800 per year which would amount to a 1% — 1.5% increase in the income tax rate (currently at 5%). If you are a parent who wants their child to go to college, this is a bargain. For those of us whose children will be out of college, it’s a price I’d be willing to pay to provide qualified students the opportunity to succeed along a path with known financial benefits.

Is this a reasonable estimate? (It’s a start.)
Is this feasible? (It seems possible to me.)

It’s not free college — taxpayers will pay the bill, but it’s the ideal of public education and investment in our state we should consider.

The War on College

The Republican Party has openly questioned the value of higher education, and the four-year college degree — ironic given the vast majority of their leadership attended college. The data does not support their position.

Some info:
The U.S. average salary for skilled trades (from the https://www.payscale.com/index/US/Industry website):
Plumber: $20-$26 per hour
Electrician: $20-$26 per hour
HVAC: $18-$20 per hour
Machinist: $15-$18 per hour

Or, $36,000 to $52,000 per year (midrange of $44,000). The higher paid positions are for Master level positions which require approximately four years of work and exam that occur after 3-5 years as an apprentice and an exam. So the process is not quick and easy. Average apprentice pay is $14-15 per hour.

The U.S. average salary for engineers (civil, electrical, and mechanical) is $65,000 to $72,000.

The U.S. average annual salary for
Biotechnology research associates: $50,000
Chemist: $52,000
Software developers: $75,000

Not into science? the U.S. average annual salary for
Accountants: $49,000
Graphic designers: $41,000 (Senior Graphic designer $61,000)
Human resources specialists: $49,000

The median salary for workers between the ages of 35—44, arguably prime earning years (from https://www.census.gov/data/tables/time-series/demo/income-poverty/cps-pinc/pinc-03.html):

a high school diploma is $32,000
an associate degree is $42,000
a bachelor’s degree is $61,000
a master’s degree is $70,000
a doctorate or professional degree is $100,000

It is possible for a high school graduate to earn over $100,000? For individuals between 35—44 years of age, that number was 4% of those with earnings. For those with a bachelor degree, it was almost 23%!

It is helpful for young people to have options, but they should be aware of how their education level dramatically impacts the potential for financial independence.

The current educational system produced the income distributions summarized above. Efforts to drive more people to “skilled trades” will lower the number of people available to fill higher salary positions that require a bachelor’s degree or greater. It’s those higher salary positions that drive the U.S. economy and the current Republican war on education is short-sighted and self-serving.