Tanya Khovanova's Math Blog

I collect geeky jokes. I think I’ve heard most of them. So I was surprised to stumble upon a website with many new ones: 50 People On ‘The Most Intellectual Joke I Know’. These are some of them:

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Q: What does the “B” in Benoit B. Mandelbrot stand for?
A: Benoit B. Mandelbrot.

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Entropy isn’t what it used to be.

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There are two types of people in the world: those who can extrapolate from incomplete data sets

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This sentence contains exactly threee erors.

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There’s a band called 1023MB. They haven’t had any gigs yet.

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A logician’s wife is having a baby. The doctor immediately hands the newborn to the dad. His wife asks impatiently, “So, is it a boy or a girl”? The logician replies, “Yes.”

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The barman says, “We don’t serve time travelers in here.”
A time traveler walks into a bar.

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The first rule of Tautology club, is the first rule of Tautology club.

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A woman walks in on her husband, a string theorist, in bed with another woman. He shouts, “I can explain everything!”

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What do you get when you cross a joke with a rhetorical question?

I used to love arXiv. I’ve long thought that it was one of the best things that happened to mathematics. arXiv makes mathematical research available for free and without delay. Moreover, it is highly respected among mathematicians. For example, Grigori Perelman never submitted his proof of the Poincaré conjecture to any journal: he just posted it on arXiv.

When I came back to mathematics, all my math friends explained to me that I should submit my paper to arXiv on the same day that I submit it to a journal. As my trust in arXiv grew, I started submitting to arXiv first, waiting one week for comments, and then submitting to a journal.

Now it seems that arXiv might not love its contributors as much as they used to. arXiv moderators seem to be getting harsher and harsher. Here is my story.

In June of 2013, I submitted my paper “A Line of Sages” to arXiv. This paper is about a new hat puzzle that appeared at the Tournaments of the Towns in March 2013. The puzzle was available online at the Tournaments of the Towns webpage in Russian. After some thought I decided that it is better to cite the Tournament itself inside the body of the paper, rather than to have a proper reference. Online references in general are not stable, and this particular one was in Russian. Very soon this competition will be translated into English and the puzzle will appear in all standard math competition archives.

arXiv rejected my paper. A moderator complained that I didn’t have a bibliography. So I created a bibliography with the link to the puzzle. My paper was rejected again saying that the link wasn’t stable. Duh. That’s the reason why I didn’t put it there from the start. I Goggled the puzzle and I still didn’t find any other links.

I argued with my moderator that the standards for papers in recreational mathematics are different from the standards for purely research papers. Short recreational notes do not require two pages of history and background, nor a long list of references. A recreational paper doesn’t need to have theorems and lemmas.

Meanwhile, the moderator complained that the paper was “not sufficiently motivated to be interesting to the readership.”

I got tired of exchanging emails with this moderator and submitted my paper to The Mathematical Intelligencer, where it was immediately accepted. So I dropped my submission to arXiv.

Now my paper is not available for free on arXiv. But anyone can freely buy it from Springer for $39.95.

I started my life wanting to be a mathematician. At some point I had to quit academia in order to feed my children. And so I went to work in industry for ten years. Now that my children have grown, I am trying to get back to academia. So I am the right person to compare the experience of working in the two sectors. Just remember:

• This is my personal experience.
• I am not a professor, so I never experienced the best part of academia.
• My academic experience was at Princeton and MIT: a very selective set.

Money. The pay is much better in industry. About twice as high as academia.

Time. I almost never had to work overtime while working in industry. That might not be true for programmers and testers. As a designer, I worked at the beginning of the project stage. Programmers and testers are closer to deadlines, so they have more pressure on them. The industrial job was more practical than conceptual, so I didn’t think about it at home. My evenings and weekends were free, so I could relax with my children. In academia I work 24/7. There are 20 mathematical papers that I have started and want to finish. This is a never-ending effort because I need those papers to find my next job. Plus, I want to be a creative teacher, so I spend a lot of time preparing for classes. I do not have time to breath.

Respect. When I was working in industry, some of my co-workers would tell me that I was the smartest person they ever met. In any case, I always felt that my intelligence and my skills were greatly appreciated. In academia, I am surrounded by first-class mathematicians who rarely express respect and mostly to those who supersede them in their own fields.

Social Life. Mathematics is a lonely endeavor. Everyone is engrossed in their own thoughts. There is no urge to chat at the coffee machine. In industry we were working in teams. I knew everyone in my group. I was closer to my co-workers when I worked in industry.

Freedom. In both industry and academia there are bosses who tell you what to do. But while building my university career, a big part of my life is devoted to writing papers. It is not a formal part of my job, but it is a part of the academic life style. And in my papers I have my freedom.

Motivation. In academia, one must be self-motivated.

Rejection. The output of an academic job is published papers. Most journals have high rejection rates. For me, it’s not a big problem because from time to time I get fantastic reviews and I usually have multiple papers awaiting review. I have enough self-confidence that if my paper is rejected, I don’t blink. I revise it and send it to a different journal. But this is a huge problem for my high school students who submit their first paper and get rejected. It is very discouraging.

Perfectionism. In industry I was working on deadlines. The goal was to deliver by the deadline a project that more or less worked. Time was more important than quality. My inner perfectionist suffered. When I write papers, I decide myself when they are ready for publication.

Impact. When I was working at Telcordia I felt that I was doing something useful. For example, we were building a local number portability feature, the mechanism allowing people to take their phone numbers with them when they moved. I wish Verizon had bought our product. Just a couple of months ago I had to change my phone number when I moved five blocks from Belmont to Watertown. Bad Verizon. But I digress. When I was working at Alphatech/BAE Systems, I was designing proofs of concepts for future combat systems. I oppose war and the implementation was sub-standard. I felt I was wasting my time. Now that I am teaching and writing papers, I feel that I am building a better world. My goal is to help people structure their minds and make better decisions.

Fame. All the documents I wrote in industry were secret. The world would never know about them. Plus, industry owns the copyright and takes all the credit. There is no trace of what I have done; there is no way to show off. People in academia are much more visible and famous.

Happiness. I am much happier now. I do what I love.

I gave the following puzzle from Raymond Smullyan’s book What is the Name of this Book? to my AMSA students.

What happens if an irresistible cannonball hits an immovable post?

This puzzle is known as the Irresistible Force Paradox. The standard answer is that the given conditions are contradictory and the two objects cannot exist at the same time.

My AMSA student gave me a much cuter answer: The post falls in love with the cannonball as it is so irresistible.

It has been a while since I wrote my last essay and my readers have started to worry. Sorry for being out of touch, but let me tell you what is going on in my life.

In September I received an offer from MIT that changes my status there. In exchange for a slight increase in pay, I am now conducting recitations (supplemental seminars) in linear algebra In addition to my previous responsibilities.

My readers will know that just a slight increase in money in exchange for significant demands on my time would not appeal to me. But this offer comes with perks. First, my position at MIT changes from an affiliate to a lecturer, which looks so much better on my CV. Second, it includes benefits, the most important of which is medical insurance.

I lived without insurance for three years. On the bright side, lack of insurance made me conscious of my health. I developed many healthy habits. I read a lot about the treatments for colds and other minor problems that I had. On the other hand, it is a bit scary to be without insurance.

Many people are surprised to hear that I didn’t have any insurance: Doesn’t Massachusetts require medical insurance for everyone?

The Commonwealth levies a fine on those who do not have insurance. But I was in this middle bracket in which my income was too high for a subsidized plan, and too low to be fined. You see, the fine is dependent on one’s income and is pro-rated. So I didn’t have to pay it at all.

I got my insurance from MIT in October, but ironically my doctor’s waiting list is so long, that my first check-up will not be until January.

Anyway, I sort of have four jobs now. I am coaching students for math competitions at the AMSA charter school six hours a week. I am the head mentor at the RSI summer program where I supervise the math research projects of a dozen high school students. I do the same thing for the PRIMES program, in which I have the additional responsibility of mentoring my own students. And as I mentioned, I am also teaching two recitation groups in linear algebra at MIT.

Teaching linear algebra turned out to be more difficult than I expected. I love linear algebra, but I had to learn the parts of it that are related to applications and engineering. Plus, I didn’t know linear algebra in English. And my personality as a perfectionist didn’t help because to teach linear algebra up to my standards would have taken more time than I really had.

This semester I barely had time to breathe, and I certainly couldn’t concentrate on essay pieces. Now that this semester is almost over, my as yet unwritten essays are popping up in my head. It’s nice to be back.