Tag Archives: narrative

“…Paper is a Fraud…”

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The scientific paper is a fraud in the sense that it does give a totally misleading narrative of the processes of thought that go into the making of scientific discoveries…” (Medawar, 1964) and so is the above decontextualized hook-line, opening this post –as if the fairest of titles– misleading in a not-so-playfully perverted way.

Sir Karl Popper gave us a form and function in scientific methodology via empirical falsification such as presented in his “Conjectures and Refutations”. Has it done us well (us the species, the populous, the Hoi Polloi)? Have we become immune to the absolute, the reductionist linear or to the falsehood of the polarized? Think again; for the many the few have yet to suffice.

Then there is a second scientist, known as the “father of transplantation“: Sir Peter Medawar. Since we are not immune to the traps and trepidation surrounding our personalized versions of oversimplifying falsehoods (including this post and its naïve author), Sir Peter’s medical insights and more so some of his more popular writing might be of use to us in thinking about information gathering and how it might be made to stick or made to be rejected.

Poetic transcoding of concepts and methods from seemingly very different fields of the human endeavor might be of practical use to some of us. A little dab’ll do ya… Though, can methods of less linear and less polarized thinking be as a smoothening ointment against all misinformation? Do all metaphorical potions, at all times, avoid the rejection of that unwanted information-limb? Of course, not. Thinking one has the singular method to iron out falsehood might just perhaps let falsehood creep in through one’s over-polished hubris of believing to be absolutely firewalled against it. Can the real clean guy please stand up?

Nevertheless, we can take methods or metaphorical images as models into our laypersons’ dealings with information; or so one might hold an imaginative and ever-so-slightly childish hopefulness when reading Sir Peter’s 1964 writing entitled “Is the Scientific Paper Fraudulent?”.

As a tidbitty-sidenote: Mr. Medawar was also metaphorically knighted as “the wittiest of all scientific writers” by Dawkins in “The Oxford Book of Modern Science Writing.

The scientific paper is a fraud in the sense that it does give a totally misleading narrative of the processes of thought that go into the making of scientific discoveries. The inductive format of the scientific paper should be discarded. The discussion which in the traditional scientific paper goes last should surely come at the beginning. The scientific facts and scientific acts should follow the discussion, and scientists should not be ashamed to admit, as many of them apparently are ashamed to admit, that hypotheses appear in their minds along uncharted by-ways of thought; that they are imaginative and inspirational in character; that they are indeed adventures of the mind.” (Medawar, 1964)

I especially enjoy the last thread of his words: “[scientists’ ideas / your thoughts / ___________] are imaginative and inspirational in character; that they are indeed adventures of the mind.

Peter Medawar’s Is the Scientific Paper Fraudulent?Dawkins, Richard: “The Oxford Book of Modern Science Writing

Stay-home Dad with Office benefits

I am a stay-home dad who goes to work to make ends meet.

I am in my office from about 7AM until about 6:45PM.

I am alone in that office. The times I speak are when I say good morning to that reoccurring individual around the water-filter; you know, the office-dweller’s version of an elephant’s drinking hole in the Savannah. The water-filter dispenser is way down the hall, strategically positioned, right outside the toilets.

The solitude allows me to imagine exercising a yoga pose on the yoga mat that is collecting dust in the corner of my office.

The sounds of air-conditioners are at times surprisingly interrupted by a honking horn entering the room through the open window or by the sound of a paper shredder or maybe a receipt printer down that same window-less hall.

I don’t do lunch. Previously, I would have an 8-minute salad and at times indulged in finishing an 18-minute TEDtalk during and beyond my time of eating. At times I would enrich my food intake experience with a good half a liter of water-diluted protein powder. I don’t do that anymore.

I wake up at 3:30AM and go to sleep at about 10PM. Nights are interrupted by children or pets alike.

In weekends I stay home. I don’t engage in number painting yet. I study Spanish instead, via a little APP on my phone. I have my home , in an apartment building, during the weekends and some moments in the morning and evenings, in the glorious land of China.

To get those weekends at home, I negotiate uninterruptedly and really hard with my superior, the owner of the company. It made me labeled as not caring enough about the company. After all, the company is not covering my social insurance, pension nor other basics. No, I don’t feel disgruntled. I have no right to feel so, pampered as I am. As a creative entrepreneurial-spirit in disguise, I am after all a stay-home dad in an exotic far-far-away land.

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Content, I am.

No, I don’t need all of the perks, taps on the back or other professional acknowledgements. Yet, I do need my weekends to do the laundry and other chores and, yes, watch the kids. In the weekends my life partner is off working. She also takes on the week for work and for covering each and every evening, with the boys and their homework routine. I love the boys. I love my life partner. What more should one want?

Staying home, being a stay-home dad, allows me to pretend to be taking care of the family while reoccurringly contemplating the 15 minute weekly meeting on Mondays. I do enjoy these meetings at our headquarters, a two or so hours away by subway. Following the meeting I am thrilled journeying back to my office space.

I used to really enjoy spending about 5 hours every Monday on the subway. I am rich with imagination during and outside those rides.

The thought of these rides still echoes the memory of the annual holidays my children and wife do have, and the duration of their flight to Europe. I have been told that those flights are only slightly longer in duration than my ride on the subway.

I used to take that ride daily. Now only on Mondays. Now I spend a large sum of money on a taxi ride to get there. I do get there, I arrive before any one else does or any other car clogs up the roads. In this way I get there, to my beloved team, much faster. Now it increases my carbon footprint, except when I enjoy the thrill of being in an electric taxi! Oh, the excitements of being who I am and doing what I do. I am going places!

It’s all about being a modern and caring man; a stay-home dad, with office benefits.