My previous post, “On
An Unnamed Institution to Commercialize Research”, was a fairly short and
skeptical piece on a proposed government initiative. Below, inspired by some recent reading, is a
more constructive take on a related issue.
Intrigued, I purchased a copy of Wilson’s book, which I thoroughly
enjoyed. Wilson’s passion for science is
infectious and inspiring, even to someone like myself who has been in the
business for over a quarter of a century.
With our federal government frequently accused of being engaged in a war against science, and with our
provincial government making large cuts to funds for postsecondary education,
inspiration is in short supply, so I am very appreciative of Wilson’s letters. His book also provides an interesting
perspective on some of the issues currently facing Alberta postsecondary
education.
Consider a recent
announcement by the minister of Enterprise and Advanced Education about a
planned institute for commercializing research.
Apparently, one of the goals of this institute is to foster cooperation
amongst researchers at different Albertan schools. The Edmonton
Journal reports, “The institute will provide a forum where
academics from different campus can come together. Currently, cooperation is
limited because campuses compete for research grants.” I wonder, though, whether this is the kind of
cooperation best suited to increase applied research. Inspired by Wilson’s book, a different (and
possibly less expensive) type of cooperation comes to my mind.
Wilson argues that pure mathematicians develop theorems and models that are
elegant in their own right. However, he
feels that mathematicians do not ground their work in real world phenomena. Wilson is a proponent of such grounding; he
counsels young scientists to seek out mathematicians, and to provide them real-world
scenarios for linking to extant mathematics.
Wilson states his ‘first
principle’ about the relationship between scientists and mathematicians: “It is far easier for scientists to acquire needed
collaboration from mathematicians and statisticians than it is for
mathematicians and statisticians to find scientists to make use of their
equations.”
It seems to me that a modified version of Wilson’s first principle has
broader scope. Mathematics should not be
singled out; a more fruitful principle would consider the relationship between
pure research (often called ‘blue sky research’ in Albertan discussions) and
applied research or commercialized research.
A broader principle suggests a route for connecting companies and blue
sky researchers: “It is far easier for companies to acquire needed
collaboration from blue sky researchers than it is for blue sky researchers to
find companies to make use of their theories.”
I do blue sky research; I am quite adept at producing pure research
related to a diversity of domains. I also sympathize with the goal of applying my
work. However, I do not believe that this
is hindered because I have no other scientists to cooperate with, as is
suggested by the nature of the planned institute. Wilson’s view is that science is an individual
affair. The most innovative scientists
of Wilson’s experience “prefer to take first steps alone.” I agree.
Instead, my problem is that I am completely naïve about the nature of potential
applications for my work. I do not need
other scientists. I need companies,
to inform me about their applied problems, in the hope that I might see a
potential solution in the blue sky research that I already do.
How might applied problems come my way?
One model might be a think tank the Santa Fe Institute, which Wilson has
experienced: “The idea in these places
is to feed and house very smart people and let them wander about, meet in small
groups over coffee and croissants, and bounce ideas off each other.” Perhaps the planned Alberta institute will be
a think tank like this.
A cheaper, more efficient model does not require the creation of a think
tank or an institute. Instead, it simply
involves organizing a meeting or a short convention. I imagine a simple gathering involving a
diversity of company representatives and a diversity of blue sky researchers. For a short interval – no more than five
minutes -- a company representative interacts with a researcher, seeking common
ground. The former could pitch a
problem, while the latter could pitch a methodology. When the interval is over, the process begins
again involving new pairings of people.
Think of it as a kind of speed dating for blue sky research.
The diversity of those involved in this ‘speed dating’ is critical. Imagine a company that has some sort of heavy
industry pattern recognition problem to solve, and imagine further that they
are seeking university researchers to help deal with it. Perhaps they have already used the internet
to identify potential candidates, possibly by scanning ‘people’ listings for
various faculties and departments on the University of Alberta website.
My suspicion is that one name that they would not come up with is
mine. What could a member of a
psychology department, who is furthermore in the Faculty of Arts, and whose
expertise is in ‘foundations of cognitive science’ possibly have to offer them?
If they encountered me in the ‘speed dating’ scenario, then I think they
would be surprised. They would find out
that I have lots of pattern recognition expertise, that I have invented a new
kind of artificial neural network, that I am currently exploring the relation
between probability theory and classification, that I have some expertise in
robotics, that I have lots of experience with multivariate statistics, … I
could put a lot in my quick ‘speed dating’ pitch! To their surprise, they might find that an Arts psychologist has the expertise to solve their heavy duty problem.
And, of course, I would have discovered a potential application for my
blue sky research, which might be commercialized using existing mechanisms at
my university.
The key point to the ‘speed dating’ idea is that I am not alone. Most of my colleagues, across the various
departments and faculties at Albertan universities, have amassed large degrees
of expertise that could have economic applications, provided their blue sky
work were to be matched with promising applied problems. Companies might be surprised at what they
find when they explore blue sky research conducted in areas that they would
ordinarily ignore.
We – companies and blue sky researchers alike -- need to increase the
likelihood that such matches occur. We
need to explore avenues that are unconventional, another message central to
Wilson’s book.
When Claude Shannon provided mathematical accounts of circuits, he did
not revolutionize electric engineering because he linked his work with that of
other engineers. He succeeded by connecting
problems with electric circuit design to something that he learned about in his
philosophy courses – Boole’s logic. In
making this strange connection, Shannon was less than conventional, and
illustrated another of Wilson’s principles: “March away from the sound of the
guns. Observe the fray from a distance,
and while you are at it, consider making your own fray.”
Links:
Below is a link to information about E.O. Wilson's latest book on Amazon.ca:
Wilson, Edward O. (2013) Letters To A Young Scientist. Livestrong Publishing, New York.