January 22nd, 2013
[I am pleased to present a guest post from my friend Ann Velenchik, professor of economics at Wellesley College, director of their writing program, and expert monologist. This post is reproduced from her private blog, which I am privileged to have access to, in which she has chronicled her experience with her leukemia diagnosis and treatment over the last three years.]
|…one of my idols…
“Oprah Winfrey speaks at the launch of the Born This Way Foundation” image by flickr user HarvardEducation.
January 18, 2013 — Despite living with Bicycle Boy, I take no interest in competitive cycling. We were in Paris for the end of the Tour de France in 2008, and while Tom, Becca and Nate all stood on benches to see the riders circle the Arc de Triomphe, I was happily drinking an orangina at a table far from the crowds. Tom has assured me, for years, that Armstrong has clearly been doping, and I frankly didn’t think much more about it.
But I obviously couldn’t escape the news that Oprah would be interviewing Armstrong on TV last night and, because Oprah is one of my idols, I did a little web surfing this morning to find out what was said. And I found something that made me so angry that I had to respond.
In a part of the conversation about why he had started doping, and how he justified it to himself, Armstrong lay some of the blame on the “fighting spirit” he developed during his “battle” with testicular cancer from October 1996 to February 1997.
“That process turned me into a person — it was truly win at all costs,” Armstrong said. “When I was diagnosed, I said, ‘I will do anything I need to do to survive,’ and that’s good. And I took that attitude, that ruthless and relentless and win-at-all-costs attitude into cycling, and that’s bad.”
Let’s leave aside the fact that there’s evidence that he started doping before he got cancer, and that it’s possible that taking a lot of testosterone might have made that cancer worse. Let’s just talk about the idea that the attitude that helped him “win” the cancer battle justifies, or even explains, what the evidence indicates he has done since.
I think it is highly possible that cancer diagnosis and treatment in the prime of his life was a deep and abiding trauma that warped his moral compass. As I have said before, I don’t think cancer is a blessing in disguise, and I don’t think all the lessons we learn there are good ones, let alone worth the price. So I am not even pissed off that he has the audacity to use his status as a cancer patient to explain the appalling way he has treated people.
What pisses me off is his description of the attitude he brought to treatment itself. When he says “I will do anything I need to do to survive…ruthless and relentless and win-at-all-costs…,” as though lying and cheating and doing terrible things to other people were part of the cancer process, that’s when my head starts to explode.
Because, here’s the thing. There isn’t much in cancer treatment that requires lying or cheating, that requires you to sue for libel the people who are actually telling the truth, or that allows you to threaten and bully and defame other people. Yes, there’s a lot of win-at-all costs to be found there, but those aren’t costs you get to impose on other people.
Lance Armstrong misspoke. Cancer treatment isn’t about being willing to do anything to anyone in order to win. It’s about being willing to endure anything onesself. Here’s my guess. Lance Armstrong is a very bad guy who was a bad guy before he got cancer and perhaps a worse one afterward. He doped because he was getting away with it and getting richer and more famous every minute. He lied and intimidated and threatened and bullied because, as I heard one person say, when he got cornered his strategy was to double down. And maybe his experience as a cancer patient was part of the list of things that made him so broken. But that’s about him, not about cancer.
January 13th, 2013
Government zealotry in prosecuting brilliant people is a repeating theme. It gave rise to one of the great intellectual tragedies of the 20th century, the death of Alan Turing after his appalling treatment by the British government. Sadly, we have just been presented with another case. Aaron Swartz committed suicide at his apartment in New York this week in the face of an overreaching prosecution of his JSTOR download action. I never met him, but I understand from those who knew him well that he was a brilliant, committed person who only acted intending to do good in the world. I’m on the record disagreeing with the particulars of the open access tactic for which he was being prosecuted, on the basis that it was counterproductive. But I empathize with the gut instinct that led to his effort. I hope that it will inspire us all to redouble our efforts to eliminate the needless restraints on the distribution and use of scholarship as Swartz himself was trying to achieve.
January 3rd, 2013
|…our little tiff in the late 18th century…“NYC – Metropolitan Museum of Art: Washington Crossing the Delaware” image by flickr user wallyg. Used by permission.|
I’m shortly off to give a talk at the annual meeting of the Linguistic Society of America (on why open access is better for scholarly societies, which I’ll be blogging about soon), but in the meantime, a linguistically related post about punctuation.
Careful readers of this blog (are there any careful readers of this blog? are there any readers at all?) will note that I generally eschew the peculiarly American convention of moving punctuation within a closing quotation mark. Examples from The Occasional Pamphlet abound: here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here. And that’s just from 2012. It’s surprising how often this punctuation convention comes into play.
Instead, I use the convention that only the stuff being quoted is put within the quotation marks. This is sometimes called the “British” convention, despite the fact that other nationalities use it as well, presumably to emphasize the American/British dualism extant from our little tiff in the late 18th century. I use the “British” convention because the “American” convention is, in technical terms, stupid.
The story goes that punctuation appearing within the quotation mark is more aesthetically pleasing than punctuation outside the quotation mark. But even if that were true, clarity trumps beauty. Moving the punctuation means that when you see a quoted string with some final punctuation, you don’t know if that punctuation is or is not intended to be part of the thing being quoted; it is systematically ambiguous.
Apparently, my view is highly controversial. For example, when working with MIT Press on my book on the Turing test, my copy editor (who, by the way, was wonderful, and amazingly patient) moved all my punctuation around to satisfy the American convention. I moved them all back. She moved them again. We got into a long discussion of the matter; it seems she had never confronted an author who felt strongly about punctuation before. (I presume she had never copy-edited Geoff Pullum, from whom more later.) As a compromise, we left the punctuation the way I liked it—mostly—but she made me add the following prefatory editorial note:
Throughout the text, the American convention of moving punctuation within closing quotation marks (whether or not the punctuation is part of what is being referred to) is dropped in favor of the more logical and consistent convention of placing only the quoted material within the marks.
I would now go on to explain why the “British” convention is better than the “stupid” convention, except that Geoff Pullum has done so much better a job, far better than I ever could. Here is an excerpt from his essay “Punctuation and human freedom” published in Natural Language and Linguistic Theory and reproduced in his book The Great Eskimo Vocabulary Hoax. I recommend the entire essay to you.
I want you to first consider the string ‘the string’ and the string ‘the string.’, noting that it takes ten keystrokes to type the string in the first set of quotes, and eleven to type the string in the second pair. Imagine you wanted to quote me on the latter point. You might want to say (1).
(1) Pullum notes that it takes eleven keystrokes to type the string ‘the string.’
No problem there; (1) is true (and grammatical if we add a final period). But now suppose you want to say this:
(2) Pullum notes that it takes ten keystrokes to type the string ‘the string’.
You won’t be able to publish it. Your copy-editor will change it before the first proof stage to (3), which is false (though regarded by copy-editors as grammatical):
(3) Pullum notes that it takes ten keystrokes to type the string ‘the string.’
Why? Because the copy-editor will insist that when a sentence ends with a quotation, the closing quotation mark must follow the punctuation mark.
I say this must stop. Linguists have a duty to the public to use their expertise in arguing for changes to the fabric of society when its interests are threatened. And we have such a situation here.
What say we all switch over to the logical quotation punctuation approach and save the fabric of society, shall we?
November 6th, 2012
|…There’s a “tree” in it…
“Fall New England” image by flickr user BrtinBoston. Used by permission.
I received the attached email, inviting a contribution to a journal called Advances in Forestry Letter. Yes, that’s “Letter” in the singular, which is even still optimistic given the number of papers they’ve published so far, viz., none. For a week or so after I received the email, the journal’s web site was down. It’s back up now, and we can glean some further information about this “journal”. It is claimed to be published by “World Academic Publishers” (already listed in Jeffrey Beall’s list of predatory publishers), though the publisher’s site does not list the journal as of this writing. The listing of covered topics from their “Focus and Scope” page seems to have been plagiarized from the corresponding listing for the MDPI journal Forests.
Why am I, a computer scientist, being invited to submit an article on forestry? On the basis of being the author of an article entitled “Optimal k-arization of synchronous tree-adjoining grammar“. (Actually, they got that wrong too. I’m a co-author, along with Rebecca Nesson and Giorgio Satta.) See? There’s a “tree” in it. It must be about forestry.
I have half a mind to submit the article to them (after making it “80% different”) and see what happens. Read the rest of this entry »
October 17th, 2012
I’m pleased to forward on the announcement that the Harvard Open Access Project has just released an initial version of a guide on “good practices for university open-access policies”. It was put together by Peter Suber and myself with help from many, including Ellen Finnie Duranceau, Ada Emmett, Heather Joseph, Iryna Kuchma, and Alma Swan. It has already received endorsements from the Coalition of Open Access Policy Institutions (COAPI), Confederation of Open Access Repositories (COAR), Electronic Information for Libraries (EIFL), Enabling Open Scholarship (EOS), Harvard Open Access Project (HOAP), Open Access Scholarly Information Sourcebook (OASIS), Scholarly Publishing and Academic Resources Coalition (SPARC), and SPARC Europe.
October 16th, 2012
|Karen Spärck Jones, 1935-2007|
In honor of Ada Lovelace Day 2012, I write about the only female winner of the Lovelace Medal awarded by the British Computer Society for “individuals who have made an outstanding contribution to the understanding or advancement of Computing”. Karen Spärck Jones was the 2007 winner of the medal, awarded shortly before her death. She also happened to be a leader in my own field of computational linguistics, a past president of the Association for Computational Linguistics. Because we shared a research field, I had the honor of knowing Karen and the pleasure of meeting her on many occasions at ACL meetings.
One of her most notable contributions to the field of information retrieval was the idea of inverse document frequency. Well before search engines were a “thing”, Karen was among the leaders in figuring out how such systems should work. Already in the 1960′s there had arisen the idea of keyword searching within sets of documents, and the notion that the more “hits” a document receives, the higher ranked it should be. Karen noted in her seminal 1972 paper “A statistical interpretation of term specificity and its application in retrieval” that not all hits should be weighted equally. For terms that are broadly distributed throughout the corpus, their occurrence in a particular document is less telling than occurrence of terms that occur in few documents. She proposed weighting each term by its “inverse document frequency” (IDF), which she defined as log(N/(n + 1)) where N is the number of documents and n the number of documents containing the keyword under consideration. When the keyword occurs in all documents, IDF approaches 1 for large N, but as the keyword occurs in fewer and fewer documents (making it a more specific and presumably more important keyword), IDF rises. The two notions of weighting (frequency of occurrence of the keyword together with its specificity as measured by inverse document frequency) are combined multiplicatively in the by now standard tf*idf metric; tf*idf or its successors underlie essentially all information retrieval systems in use today.
In Karen’s interview for the Lovelace Medal, she opined that “Computing is too important to be left to men.” Ada Lovelace would have agreed.
October 8th, 2012
|…set the default…|
Here’s what’s on deck at Harvard for Open Access Week 2012 (reproduced from the OSC announcement).
From October 22 through October 28, Harvard University is joining hundreds of other institutions of higher learning to celebrate Open Access Week, a global event for the promotion of free, immediate online access to scholarly research.
Harvard will participate in OA Week locally by offering two public events that engage this year’s theme, “Set the default to open access.”
On October 23rd at 12:30 p.m., the Berkman Center for Internet & Society and the Office for Scholarly Communication will host a forum entitled “How to Make Your Research Open Access (Whether You’re at Harvard or Not).” OA advocates Peter Suber and Stuart Shieber will headline the session, answering questions on any aspect of open access and recommending concrete steps for making your work open access. The event will be held at the Berkman Center, 23 Everett Street, 2nd Floor. The Berkman Center will also stream the discussion live online. See the Berkman Center website for more information and to RSVP.
On October 24, a panel of experts will consider efforts by the National Institutes of Health to ensure public access to the published results of federally funded research. “Open Access to Health Research: Future Directions for the NIH Public Access Policy” will feature a discussion of the challenges and opportunities for increasing compliance with the NIH policy. The event, co-sponsored by the Office for Scholarly Communication, Right to Research Coalition, and Universities Allied for Essential Medicines, will be held at the Harvard Law School in Hauser Hall, room 104. More information is available at the Petrie-Flom Center website.
September 17th, 2012
|…evidenced by a written instrument…
“To Sign a Contract 3” image by shho. Used by permission.
The idea behind rights-retention open-access policies is, as this year’s OA Week slogan goes, to “set the default to open access”. Traditionally, authors retained rights to their scholarly articles only if they expressly negotiated with their publishers to do so. Rights-retention OA policies—like those at Harvard and many other universities, and as exemplified by our Model Policy—change the default so that authors retain open-access rights unless they expressly opt out.
The technique the policies use is a kind of “rights loop”:
- The policy has the effect of granting a transferable nonexclusive license to the university as soon as copyright vests in the article. This license precedes and survives any later transfer to a publisher.
- The university can grant the licensed rights back to the author (as well as making use of them itself, primarily through distribution of the article from a repository).
The author retains rights by using the university as a kind of holding area for those rights. The waiver provision, under sole control of the author, means that this rights retention is a default, but defeasible.
This at least was the theory, but what are the legalities of the matter? In designing Harvard’s OA policy, we spent a lot of time trying to make sure that the reality would match the theory. Now, Eric Priest, a professor at the University of Oregon School of Law, has done a detailed analysis of the policy (forthcoming in the Northwestern Journal of Technology and Intellectual Property and available open access from SSRN) to determine if the legal premise of the policy is sound. The bottom line: It is. Those charged with writing such policies will want to read the article in detail. I’ll only give a summary of the conclusions here, and mention how at Harvard we have been optimizing our own implementation of the policy to further strengthen its legal basis.
Priest’s conclusion is well summarized in the following quote:
The principal aim of this Article has been to analyze the legal effect of “Harvard-style” open access permission mandates. This required first analyzing whether scholars are the legal authors (and therefore initial owners) of their scholarly articles under the Copyright Act’s work made for hire rules. It then required determining whether a permission mandate in fact vests, as its terms suggest, nonexclusive licenses in the university for all scholarly articles created by its faculty. Lastly, this analysis required determining whether those licenses survive after the faculty member who writes the article transfers copyright ownership to a publisher. As the foregoing analysis shows, in the Author’s opinion the answer to all three of these questions is “yes”: scholars should be deemed the authors of their works, and permission mandates create in universities effective, durable nonexclusive licenses to archive and distribute faculty scholarship and permit the university to license others to do the same.
Although Priest’s analysis agrees with our own that the policies work in and of themselves (at least those using the wording that we have promulgated in our own policies at Harvard and in our Model Policy), he notes various ways in which the arguments for the various legal aspects can be even further strengthened, revolving around Section 205(e) of the Copyright Act, which holds that “a nonexclusive license, whether recorded or not, prevails over a conflicting transfer of copyright ownership if the license is evidenced by a written instrument signed by the owner of the rights licensed”.
Priest argues at length and in detail that no individual written instrument is required for the survival of the nonexclusive license. But obtaining such an individual written instrument certainly can’t hurt. In fact, at Harvard we do obtain such a written instrument. There are two paths by which articles enter the DASH repository for distribution pursuant to an OA policy: Authors can deposit them themselves, or someone (a faculty assistant or a member of the Office for Scholarly Communication staff) can deposit them on behalf of the authors. In the first case, the author assents (via a click-through statement) to an affirmation of the nonexclusive license:
I confirm my grant to Harvard of a non-exclusive license with respect to my scholarly articles, including the Work, as set forth in the open access policy found at http://osc.hul.harvard.edu/ that was adopted by the Harvard Faculty or School of which I am a member.
In the second case, our workflow requires that authors have provided us with an “Assistance Authorization Form”, available either as a click-through web form or print version to be signed. This form gives the OSC and any named assistants the right to act on the faculty member’s behalf as depositor, and also provides assent to the statement
In addition, if I am a member of a Harvard Faculty or School that has adopted an open access policy found at http://osc.hul.harvard.edu/, this confirms my grant to Harvard of a non-exclusive license with respect to my scholarly articles as set forth in that policy.
Authors need only provide this form once; thereafter, we can act on their behalf in depositing articles.
Thus, no matter how an article enters the DASH repository, we have an express affirmation of the OA policy’s nonexclusive license, providing yet a further satisfaction of the Section 205(e) “written instrument” clause.
Priest mentions another way of strengthening the argument of survival of the nonexclusive license, namely, incorporating the license into faculty employment agreements, either directly or by reference. This provides further backup that the license is individually affirmed through the employment agreement. We take additional steps along these lines at Harvard as well.
One of the most attractive aspects of the default rights retention approach to open-access policies is that the author retains rights automatically, without having to negotiate individually with publishers and regardless of the particularities and exigencies of any later publication agreement, while maintaining complete author choice in the matter through the open license waiver option. It is good to know that a thorough independent legal review of our approach has ratified that understanding.
June 28th, 2012
|…wave of the future…
“Nonantum Wave” photo by flickr user mjsawyer. Used by permission (CC-BY-NC-ND 2.0).
I get the sense that we’ve moved into a new phase in discussions of open access. There seems to be a consensus that open access is an inevitability. We’re hearing this not only from the usual suspects in academia but from publishers, policy-makers, and other interested parties. I’ve started collecting pertinent quotes. The voices remarking on the inevitability of open access range from congressional representatives sponsoring the pro-OA FRPAA bill (Representative Lofgren) to the sponsors of the anti-OA RWA bill (Representatives Issa and Maloney), from open-access publishers (Sutton of Co-Action) to the oldest of guard subscription publishers (Campbell of Nature). Herewith, a selection. Pointers to other examples would be greatly appreciated.
“I agree which is why I am a cosponsor of the bill [FRPAA, HR4004], but I think even if the bill does not pass, this [subscription journal] model is dead. It is just a question of how long the patient is going to be on life support.”
“As the costs of publishing continue to be driven down by new technology, we will continue to see a growth in open access publishers. This new and innovative model appears to be the wave of the future.”
“I realise this move to open access presents a challenge and opportunity for your industry, as you have historically received funding by charging for access to a publication. Nevertheless that funding model is surely going to have to change even beyond the welcome transition to open access and hybrid journals that’s already underway. To try to preserve the old model is the wrong battle to fight.”
“[A] change in the delivery of scientific content and in the business models for delivering scholarly communication was inevitable from the moment journals moved online, even if much of this change is yet to come.”
“My personal belief is that that’s what’s going to happen in the long run.”
“In the longer term, the future lies with open access publishing,” said Finch at the launch of her report on Monday. “The UK should recognise this change, should embrace it and should find ways of managing it in a measured way.”
“Open access is here to stay, and has the support of our key partners.”
(Hat tip to Peter Suber for pointers to a couple of these quotes.)
June 16th, 2012
Image of the statue of the Golem of Prague at the entrance to the Jewish Quarter of Prague by flickr user D_P_R. Used by permission (CC-BY 2.0).
Alan Turing, the patron saint of computer science, was born 100 years ago this week (June 23). I’ll be attending the Turing Centenary Conference at University of Cambridge this week, and am honored to be giving an invited talk on “The Utility of the Turing Test”. The Turing Test was Alan Turing’s proposal for an appropriate criterion to attribute intelligence (that is, capacity for thinking) to a machine: you verify through blinded interactions that the machine has verbal behavior indistinguishable from a person.
In preparation for the talk, I’ve been looking at the early history of the premise behind the Turing Test, that language plays a special role in distinguishing thinking from nonthinking beings. I had thought it was an Enlightenment idea, that until the technological advances of the 16th and 17th centuries, especially clockwork mechanisms, the whole question of thinking machines would never have entertained substantive discussion. As I wrote earlier,
Clockwork automata provided a foundation on which one could imagine a living machine, perhaps even a thinking one. In the midst of the seventeenth-century explosion in mechanical engineering, the issue of the mechanical nature of life and thought is found in the philosophy of Descartes; the existence of sophisticated automata made credible Descartes’s doctrine of the (beast-machine), that animals were machines. His argument for the doctrine incorporated the first indistinguishability test between human and machine, the first Turing test, so to speak.
Uniformly, the evidence for Talmudic discussion of the Turing Test is a single quote from Sanhedrin 65b.
Rava said: If the righteous wished, they could create a world, for it is written, “Your iniquities have been a barrier between you and your God.” For Rava created a man and sent him to R. Zeira. The Rabbi spoke to him but he did not answer. Then he said: “You are [coming] from the pietists: Return to your dust.”
Rava creates a Golem, an artificial man, but Rabbi Zeira recognizes it as nonhuman by its lack of language and returns it to the dust from which it was created.
This story certainly describes the use of language to unmask an artificial human. But is it a Turing Test precursor?
It depends on what one thinks are the defining aspects of the Turing Test. I take the central point of the Turing Test to be a criterion for attributing intelligence. The title of Turing’s seminal Mind article is “Computing Machinery and Intelligence”, wherein he addresses the question “Can machines think?”. Crucially, the question is whether the “test” being administered by Rabbi Zeira is testing the Golem for thinking, or for something else.
There is no question that verbal behavior can be used to test for many things that are irrelevant to the issues of the Turing Test. We can go much earlier than the Mishnah to find examples. In Judges 12:5–6 (King James Version)
5 And the Gileadites took the passages of Jordan before the Ephraimites: and it was so, that when those Ephraimites which were escaped said, Let me go over; that the men of Gilead said unto him, Art thou an Ephraimite? If he said, Nay;
6 Then said they unto him, Say now Shibboleth: and he said Sibboleth: for he could not frame to pronounce it right. Then they took him, and slew him at the passages of Jordan: and there fell at that time of the Ephraimites forty and two thousand.
The Gileadites use verbal indistinguishability (of the pronounciation of the original shibboleth) to unmask the Ephraimites. But they aren’t executing a Turing Test. They aren’t testing for thinking but rather for membership in a warring group.
What is Rabbi Zeira testing for? I’m no Talmudic scholar, so I defer to the experts. My understanding is that the Golem’s lack of language indicated not its own deficiency per se, but the deficiency of its creators. The Golem is imperfect in not using language, a sure sign that it was created by pietistic kabbalists who themselves are without sufficient purity.
Talmudic scholars note that the deficiency the Golem exhibits is intrinsically tied to the method by which the Golem is created: language. The kabbalistic incantations that ostensibly vivify the Golem were generated by mathematical combinations of the letters of the Hebrew alphabet. Contemporaneous understanding of the Golem’s lack of speech was connected to this completely formal method of kabbalistic letter magic: “The silent Golem is, prima facie, a foil to the recitations involved in the process of his creation.” (Idel, 1990, pages 264–5) The imperfection demonstrated by the Golem’s lack of language is not its inability to think, but its inability to wield the powers of language manifest in Torah, in prayer, in the creative power of the kabbalist incantations that gave rise to the Golem itself.
Only much later does interpretation start connecting language use in the Golem to soul, that is, to an internal flaw: “However, in the medieval period, the absence of speech is related to what was conceived then to be the highest human faculty: reason according to some writers, or the highest spirit, Neshamah, according to others.” (Idel, 1990, page 266, emphasis added)
By the 17th century, the time was ripe for consideration of whether nonhumans had a rational soul, and how one could tell. Descartes’s observations on the special role of language then serve as the true precursor to the Turing Test. Unlike the sole Talmudic reference, Descartes discusses the connection between language and thinking in detail and in several places — the Discourse on the Method, the Letter to the Marquess of Newcastle — and his followers — Cordemoy, La Mettrie — pick up on it as well. By Turing’s time, it is a natural notion, and one that Turing operationalizes for the first time in his Test.
The test of the Golem in the Sanhedrin story differs from the Turing Test in several ways. There is no discussion that the quality of language use was important (merely its existence), no mention of indistinguishability of language use (but Descartes didn’t either), and certainly no consideration of Turing’s idea of blinded controls. But the real point is that at heart the Golem test was not originally a test for the intelligence of the Golem at all, but of the purity of its creators.
Idel, Moshe. 1990. Golem: Jewish magical and mystical traditions on the artificial anthropoid, Albany, N.Y.: State University of New York Press.