Agent Plus Environment

What are you doing?

A feeling common among senior undergraduates (and senior high school students, and junior undergrads, etc) is the your-life’s-about-to-start-what-are-you-going-to-do pressure. The common questions one faces include but are not limited to: What are you doing post-college? Are you getting a job? Where are you going to live? What about grad school? Will you stay in academia? What about high-paying tech/business/etc jobs?

Surprise: That feeling of uncertainty doesn’t always go away after graduation, or even after a year. Probably not even after five, but I haven’t gotten that far yet. I may be more on track than some. I’ve set my sights on a career in science and research, the next step of which will, for me, be grad school. But I’m sure I’m more uncertain than others.

So, from a student who’s been there, here are some thoughts on…

College, Internships, and Figuring Out What the **** You Want To Do With Your Life

You already know that there are a lot of questions to answer.

For example:

If you’re considering a STEM career, like me, then a lot of people will say you have two options — academia or industry. Even before you try to tackle which of these you might like, though, you may need to figure out what specific area you want to enter — if you’re a computer scientist, would you want to develop algorithms? Would you rather work on security applications, or distributed networks, or use your CS knowledge to program laser space robots, or any of thousands of other options?

Some programs of study prepare you for specific careers; others leave you with a remarkably open-ended future.

So… how might you even start figuring out your life?

The most important thing to know

You do not have to do the same thing forever.

That’s important, so I’ll say it again:

You do not have to do the same thing forever.

If you pick a career direction now, you aren’t stuck with it for the next forty years. People change jobs. People change careers. I had a particularly good role model in this regard: my father has owned a sailing school, consulted for small businesses, recorded punk bands, and then there was this thing in Africa… Point is, you can do whatever cool things you want. You don’t have to do the same thing forever.

Granted, knowing that you can do something else later doesn’t necessarily help at all with figuring out what to do now. On to the next section:

The “Figure My Life Out” Toolkit

Your two best resources are

1. yourself
2. other people

By this, I mean that you should (1) try new things as a way of figuring out what kinds of things you like doing, and you should (2) talk to other people about their experiences in doing different kinds of things. Gather information about what makes you happy, what kind of work you find worthwhile, what kind of jobs sound just plain cool, and so on.

Try new things

There are several ways to proceed. Three of my favorites:

1. Classes. The reason I took my first computer science class was because one day, I looked at my laptop and thought to myself, I don’t know how you work at all. I signed up for CS101, vaguely hoping that I’d learn something about the Magical Innards of Computers. I didn’t — instead, I learned some Magical Incantations and Rituals for making little Java applications. I also learned that programming was fun, and that I’d probably enjoy further classes in that area. Now? The graduate program I’m entering has a heavy CS component, and most of the other programs I’d applied to were CS programs.

The point of this story: Take classes in novel areas. Either in person, at school, or via one of the increasing number of free online courses. It’s one of the best ways to explore new subjects. If, after the first couple class sessions, you really hate it? Drop the class. It’s worthwhile to remember that you may love a subject but dislike a professor, or love a professor enough to make any subject taught interesting. Regardless, it’s a nice, easy, safe way to explore new stuff. You never know what you might find.

2. Independent learning. My personal favorite here is reading books on all sorts of cool non-fiction topics. Pick up a book at the library on a topic you know nothing about, read it, see if it interests you. Other options include taking free online courses (see point 1), joining clubs to try out new activities, volunteering for new programs, … lots of potential here. Spend time thinking about what activities you find worthwhile and important — helping people or animals in need? Engineering solutions to problems in the world? Making a lot of money so you can live the life you want?

3. Internships etc. The best time for this, if you’re in school, is those warm summer months between semesters. Summer internships. Summer research programs. If you’re interested in cognitive science or computer science, I have a Sydney Uni’s Study Abroad Internship Program. Many schools have field work programs or internship programs — does yours?

Two pieces of Important Advice:

Don’t do the same thing every summer

and

It’s okay if you don’t like your internship/job/field work/etc.

Spend a summer or two doing research on a university campus. See what it’s like working in at a government facility. Try out an internship with a company. Test out different environments and see what you like. See what you don’t like. Discovering that you don’t like some particular kind of work is as helpful — if not more so! — than finding that you do like something. You’ll be able to rule out jobs that make you do that.

I admit, I didn’t strictly follow this advice. I spent two summers on a research project at my home college, then two summers at different NASA facilities — again, research projects, not with a company. I dabbled in research during semesters as well.

What I did do, however, was vary the kind of research I was exposed to. Working on autonomous learning in robots at Vassar was science; the laser space robots at NASA last summer and the Autonomous Vehicle Lab the summer prior were very much engineering projects. The emotions group I work with now, among others, exposed me to psychology and cognitive science research methods.

… okay, so that’s all well and good. How do you actually find a good internship opportunity?

Google is your best friend. So are people you know — see the following section. I’ve been invited to apply, but I’ve also spent weeks or months searching online for intriguing opportunities. Search for lists of internships (e.g., in cognitive science and computer science) or lists of databases of internships, and search all these. If your university has a Career Development Office or the like, go talk to them; they have even more resources.

My advice: Start early. Deadlines for summer internship applications tend to be in January and February; sometimes, they may be as late as March or as early as October. You’ll need time to find the opportunities to apply for, and you’ll need time to collect the materials (such as an updated resume) for your application.

Talk to people

This point sounds relatively straightfoward. Okay, have conversations with people. But there are several ways to get the most out of those conversations…

1. Listen to advice. You know all those other people who want to give you advice? Let them. These people may be your grandparents, your professors, other relatives, older students, current professionals … anyone, really. Let them talk. Listen to what they all have to say. You don’t have to take their advice — not a word of it — but now and then, they say useful things. And you won’t hear those useful things unless you’re listening.

2. Use your resources wisely. You probably know a lot of people. These people probably know a lot of people. Some of those people might be working jobs you’re interested in. Some of those people might know people who are looking for people to work for them. Get the gist?

A further couple points:

Tell people what you’re looking for. If they don’t know, they can’t help you or hook you up with opportunities they find.

If you’re in school, your school probably has a Career Development Office or the like. Talk to the people there. Tell them what you’re hoping to find — whether it’s a specific internship, information about a particular field, or just that you’re hopelessly confused and would like their help. They have resources for you. It’s their job to have resources for you.

See if you can set up informational interviews with people in fields you might be interested in, to get the scoop on what it’s like to work that kind of job.

Attend job fairs — a lot of schools host them; does yours? — and even if you’re not looking for any particular job yet, it’s a great opportunity to talk to recruiters about the kinds of jobs out there.

3. Ask a whole bunch of questions. The best thing to remember is that, in general, people really like talking about themselves. Use this to your advantage. Even simple questions like “So, what’s your job like?” and “Can you tell me more about what it’s like to do X?” can lead to worthwhile information.

Then what?

The next step is pretty simple. (Do recall, simple does not necessarily mean easy.)

You’ve learned about your options. You’ve learned about what you like doing. You’ve learned about what you find worthwhile. It’s time to stop evaluating possible directions to go in and actually go in a direction.

Maybe now, you know exactly what you want to do with your life. Great — do that! Or maybe now you’ve concluded that no job will ever make you content. That one’s a bit tougher. Try to find something at least tolerable, or, like some people joke, marry rich? Or maybe you like everything, and the sheer number of options is still overwhelming. Your best option here: find a reasonable job in a reasonable location near people you like. Go in some direction, at least for a while. If you love it, great. If you don’t, move on.

Still have questions? Post a comment below! Maybe I, or someone else, will have helpful advice for you specifically.

And no matter what, remember: You don’t have to do the same thing forever.

Why did you pick cog sci?

When I can tell a ten-second answer is all that’s wanted, I say, “because I took an intro cognitive science class in my first semester of college and loved it.”

Some people realize I must’ve had some reason for signing up for an intro cog sci class in the first place. They tend to be satisfied with an answer like “because I read a book on consciousness before college, and wanted to know more.”

The real answer, the one that’s actually about why, is this:

No one knows yet how or why I’m a self-aware person. And I’d really, really like to find out.

Mysteries and mysteries

A couple years before I ventured across the country to begin my Vassar education, I started reading books about mysteries. Not fiction mystery novels — actual mysteries, in which no one knows whodunnit yet, though a whole lot of people have theories. Things that are hard to think about, or crazy difficult to conceptualize. The nature of space-time. Infinity. Perception. (My favorite my favorite exhibit at the Exploratorium in San Francisco was always the optical illusions.)

First, it was books like Richard Wolfson’s Relativity Demystified, Brian Greene’s The Elegant Universe, Michio Kaku’s Parallel Worlds, Mario Livio’s The Golden Ratio. All the grand mysteries of the universe, its structure, and the math and physics underlying it. I didn’t completely grasp the details of the theories, but it was sure fun to try!

Then I decided to read about people. I honestly don’t remember why I picked up Susan Blackmore’s Consciousness: An Introduction — was I just browsing the generic non-fiction science books section? I remember the library. I remember kneeling on the carpet, pulling the book off one of the lower shelves.

This book opened my eyes.

At first, I was a little disappointed. Why couldn’t Susan tell me how people worked? How I worked? I wanted answers! How am I a person? Why am I a person? Why can I think about myself thinking? Perhaps I’d assumed, up until that point, that scientists had all the hard problems figured out and now were just filling in the details.

My dismay was swiftly and thoroughly overridden by the realization that here was one of the Big Questions in the universe. Still so much left to discover. The twinkling thought: could I help discover it? And utter fascination. I distinctly remember standing on the local community college campus before a class, staring wonderingly at the landscaping, thinking, what is it like to be a tree?

So I read more.

I read what I could find in my local public library system. (I wonder what I would have read and learned had I instead had a proper university library at my fingertips.) I also bought a copy of Douglas Hofstadter’s Godel, Escher, Bach, which intrigued and confused me. I was severely disapponted by Andrea Rock’s The Mind at Night, because I’d naively assumed that I could read one book and then understand why people sleep and how dreaming works.

I read William Calvin’s How Brains Think, which didn’t actually tell me how brains think but did introduce me to some relevant terminology. I learned how complicated memory is and how to pronounce aplesia from Eric Kandel’s memoir In Search Of Memory. Judith Rich Harris’s No Two Alike was part of my introduction to the nature-nurture debates, a lot of twin studies, and just how important the enviroment and an organism’s interactions with it are in determining what the organism is like.

I read Malcolm Gladwell’s Blink, Stanislas Dehaene’s The Number Sense, and some others, too. As before, I’m quite sure that I did not fully understand any of the theories presented, not having a background in cognitive science, psychology, philosophy, or neuroscience at that point.

Basically, I discovered the mind sciences at an opportune moment, in time to sign up for an introductory cognitive science course my freshman year.

And now?

I still don’t know why or how I’m a self-aware person. No one does. I do, however, have a much better idea of the theories other folks have, the problems being tackled, and some of the methodologies being used in the quest. Maybe, now, I’ll be able to help solve the mystery myself.

A brief life update

I may have mentioned that I was applying for admission to various graduate programs this year.

Well, I was admitted. So I visited universities, I talked to professors and students, I read papers published by the labs. I had several fantastic options.

My decision:

I’ll be attending MIT next year as a Media Lab student, in the Program for Media Arts & Sciences, working in Cynthia Breazeal’s Personal Robotics Group.

A selection of photos: Winter

Sunny days and snowy grounds

Not really bicycle weather

A snowed-over parking lot

Evening sun through the trees

A selection of photos: The start of spring

Curly purple flowers

Daffodils

Fluffy pancake and maple syrup

No leaves yet

I would like to direct your attention to a page I’ve just added:

>> The Patchwork Coat

About two years ago, I decided it would be awesome to have a coat covered in buttons, colors, and pockets. At long last, I’ve deemed it done enough to wear. It’s not completely done, mind you; it only has twelve pockets so far! But it’s done enough to share the progress.

Head over to the project page to read more about the creation process, and see more photos!

Three thoughts for today:

One

Charles Watts, essay “The Meaning of Rationalism”, 1905, (in An Anthology of Atheism & Rationalism, Gordon Stein, pg 22)

“The Rationalist Press Association, in its Prospectus, defines Rationalism ‘as the mental attitude which unreservedly accepts the supremacy of reason and aims at establishing a system of philosophy and ethics verifiable by experience and independent of all arbitrary assumptions or authority.’”

Two

Charles Watts, essay “The Meaning of Rationalism”, 1905, (in An Anthology of Atheism & Rationalism, Gordon Stein, pg 25)

“We have outgrown the old mode of propaganda, and we recognize more than ever the influences of our environment. We are, in this particular, like trees: we expand and grow from within, but often the iron band of circumstances that surrounds us prevents our free growth and expansion. We, therefore, adopt the rational plan of imparting a knowledge of the facts of existence as revealed by science and philosophy, believing that, in proportion as truth is recognised and accepted, error will disappear. Rationalism is bound by no ancient creeds, hampered by no alleged sacred books, nor marred by dread of punishment in some other world for entertaining unpopular opinions in this. Our desire, as Rationalists, is to urge a sound motive for conduct, which is that “the welfare of the people is the supreme law,” to obtain freedom for all in matters of opinion, to promote ethical culture irrespective of theological teachings, and to foster friendly co-operation in spite of divergency of thought.”

Three

Annie Besant, essay “Why I Do Not Believe In God” , 1887 (in An Anthology of Atheism & Rationalism, Gordon Stein, pg 30)

“…Truth, is a thing to be shouted from the housetops, not to be whispered over the walnuts and wine after the ladies have left; for only by plain and honest speech on this matter can liberty of thought be won. Each who speaks out makes easier speech for others, and none, however insignificant, has right of silence here. Nor is it unfair, I think that a minority should be challenged on its dissidency, and should be expected to state clearly and definitely the grounds of its disagreement with the majority.”

Are we out of context?

In the book Evolutionary Medicine and Health: New Perspectives (2008), edited by Wenda Trevathan, E.O. Smith, and James KcKenna, there’s a chapter by Carol Worthman titled After Dark: The Evolutionary Ecology of Human Sleep.

Worthman takes a look at how well people’s current sleep patterns match up with our ecological and evolutionary history — the context in which human sleep evolved. Any species with a long history is affected by the long-term development of the species over time in particular environments. When the environment changes dramatically in a relatively short period of time, there’s a lag as the species’ development catches up, so to speak, adapting to the change in environment. For a while, there’s a mismatch between the species’ current state and its current context.

The motivating question of Worthman’s chapter is are we out of context?

Human sleep

No one actually knows exactly why organisms sleep. Researchers have shown it’s essential; they’ve determined that sleep disruption and deprivation often has negative effects; they’ve mapped out stages of sleep as characterized by patterns of physiological, behavioral, and cognitive activities. Sleep habits are fairly plastic. We have the capacity to have “sleep debts” and make that up later — but if sleep is so important, asks Worthman, why is that possible? What kinds of situations provoke sleep restriction? What roles do stress and stress physiology play in disrupted sleep? And, most importantly, how have our sleep habits and the conditions under which we sleep changed in modern times from the context in which we evolved?

Factors that Worthman addresses include

• - housing, beds, climate control
• - co-sleeping practices
• - material, social, and psychological contexts
• - macrosocial factors such as technology, labor, social structure

How and when a person sleeps is regulated by demands for wakefulness from the circadian system, and demands for rest and slumber. Worthman talks about the evolutionary roots and elements of human sleep ecology. She discusses how sleep settings have tended to be social across societies, even before longhouses and one-room log cabins. We didn’t evolve in an environment where we put oursleves in a room to “lie down and die” for the night. Rather, humans tended to live in groups and sleep in groups, with all manner of activity occurring throughout the night — were fires, noise, other people, conversations, nighttime pests, and more. These were, ecologically speaking, signs of safety and security — signs that it was okay to sleep and let our own vigilance mechanisms relax.

Now think about insomnia for a moment. In some instances, difficulties getting sleep in our current society may be related to how and where we now sleep. If we close ourselves off from noise, fire, other people (essentially, take ourselves out of an environment in which some of the vigilance is taken care of for us), our vigilance mechanisms go off, so to speak, and attention is focused on the kinds of things about which we should be vigilant.

In these kinds of group settings and active-nightlife contexts, was sleep interrupted? Sure. But rather than just losing sleep, people stayed awake for good reasons — useful activities, time and energy demands, threats to physical survival, and social challenges. People have adapted to defer sleep to these kinds of activities. An interesting point — one can recover from lost sleep in far less time than the original deficit. An example Worthman gives is that tem days sleep deprivation can be recovered in one or three eight-hour nights.

A question Worthman asks is just how atypical our sleep patterns are, and whether these patterns are giving us problems we wouldn’t otherwise have.

How much do you sleep?

The biggest thing I got out of her article was this: Bedtimes are fluid. In the US, we seem to have the idea that to sleep properly, we have to be dead to the world for a solid chuck of eight hours. But sleep’s more fluid than that, and sleep isn’t just the time during which you’re dead to the world. We probably underestimate the time that we actually spend sleeping, and we probably make a bigger deal than is actually necessary about getting the recommended eight hours.

Take a look at other cultures — in some, people sleep for five or six hours and night, and maybe have a two-hour nap in the afternoon. Sleep doesn’t have to just be in one chunk. Punctuated sleep is fine. Napping is fine. Some college students seem to have figured this one out already.

Essentially, Worthman argues, we should worry about our sleep a little bit less.

Interested in more of the details?

Worthman’s chapter is definitely worth a read. Pun intended.