Tanya Khovanova's Math Blog

One of my jobs is giving linear algebra recitations at MIT. The most unpleasant aspect of it is dealing with late homework. Students attempt to submit their homework late for lots of different reasons: a sick parent needing help, stress, a performance at Carnegie Hall, a broken printer, flu, and so on. How do I decide which excuse is sufficient, and which is not? I do not want to be a judge! Moreover, my assumption is that people tell the truth. In the case of linear algebra homework, this assumption is unwise. As soon as students discover that I trust everyone, there’s a sharp increase in the number of sick parents and broken printers. So I have the choice of being either a naive idiot or a suspicious cynic. I do not like either role.

Our linear algebra course often adopts a brilliant approach: We announce that late homework is not allowed for any reason. To compensate for emergencies, we drop everyone’s lowest score. That is, we allow the students to skip one homework out of ten. They are free to use this option for oversleeping the 4 pm deadline. If all their printers work properly and they do not get so sick that they have to skip their homework, they can forgo the last homework. Happily, this relieves me from being a judge.

Or does it? Unfortunately, this policy doesn’t completely resolve the problem. Some students continue trying to push their late homework on me, despite the rules. In order to be fair to other students and to follow the rules, I reject all late homework. The students who badger me nonetheless waste my time and drain my emotions. This is very unpleasant.

From the point of view of those students, such behavior makes sense. They have nothing to lose and they might get some points. There is no way to punish a person who tries to hand in homework late and from time to time they stumble onto a soft instructor who accepts the homework against the official rules. Because such behavior is occasionally rewarded, they continue doing it. I believe that wrong behavior shouldn’t be rewarded. As a responsible adult, I think it is my duty to counteract the rewards of this behavior. But I do not know how.

What should I do? Maybe I should…

1. Persuade our course leader, or MIT in general, to introduce a punishment for trying to hand in late homework. We might, for example, subtract points from their final score.
2. Promote the value of honorably following the rules through discussions with the students.
3. Growl at any student who submits their homework late.
4. Explain to them what other people think about them, when they do not follow the rules.

Maybe I should just do number 4 right now and explain what I feel. A student who persists in handing in homework late feels to me that s/he is entitled and is better than everyone else, and shows that s/he doesn’t care about the rules and honor. Again, this wastes my time, puts me in a disagreeable position, and reduces my respect for that student.

Earlier I suggested that students don’t have anything to lose by such behavior, but in fact, they do pay a price, even though they may not understand that.

Russians cherish the issues of Kvant, a famous Soviet monthly magazine for high-school students devoted to math and physics. At its peak its circulation was about 300,000, which is unparalleled for a children’s science journal. I still have my old childhood issues somewhere in my basement. But one issue is very special: it has a prominent place in my office. I didn’t receive it by subscription; I received it as a gift from my brother Misha.

Strictly speaking Misha is not my brother, but rather a half-brother. His full name is Mikhail Khovanov and he is a math professor at Columbia. The signed issue he gave me contains his math problem published in the journal. He invented this problem when he was a 10th grader. Here it is:

In a convex n-gon (n > 4), no three diagonals are concurrent (intersect at the same point). What is the maximum number of the diagonals that can be drawn inside this polygon so that all the parts they divide into are triangles?

He designed other problems while he was in high school. All of them are geometrical in nature. The journal is available online, and a separate document with all the math problems is also available (in Russian). His problems are M1038, M1103, M1108 (above), M1119, M1153, M1204. I like his other problems too. M1153 (below) is the shortest problem on his list: as usual I am guided by my laziness.

What’s the greatest number of turns that a rook’s Hamiltonian cycle through every cell on an 8 by 8 chessboard can contain?

I wanted to accompany this post with a picture of my brother at the age he was when he invented these problems—about 16. Unfortunately, I don’t have a quality picture from that period. I do have a picture that is slightly off: by about ten years.

In the starting position you see four multi-colored quadrants of a ring. For example, the first picture shows the starting position of level 33.

You can either swipe or touch between the quadrants. A swipe expands one quadrant into two quadrants and compresses two other quadrants into one. You can swipe clockwise or counterclockwise. The second figure shows the result of the clockwise swipe of the North opening. The NW quadrant that was half-red and half-yellow has expanded into two quadrants. The red piece now occupies the entire NW quadrant and the yellow piece—the entire NE quadrant. Two East quadrants got contracted into one SE quadrant. The former blue NE quadrant became the top blue half of the SE quadrant. The former SE half-blue half-green quadrant became the bottom half of the SE quadrant. In general the quadrant where the swiping movement starts expands in the direction of the swipe and the quadrant where the swiping movements ends together with the next quadrant compresses.

You can also touch an opening between quadrants. In this case the neighboring quadrants exchange places. The third figure shows the result of touching the East opening.

The goal of the game is to reach the final position: have each quadrant in one color. The next image shows the end of this particular level. As you can see the game was finished in 7 moves. In this particular case this is the smallest number of moves possible. To tell you a secret, it wasn’t me who finished the game in the smallest number of moves: it was my brother.

There is also a tutorial for this game on youtube.

I was at the 1976 International Mathematics Olympiad as part of the USSR team. There were eight people on the team and I decided to find out what they have achieved in the last 40 years. Here is the picture of our team. From left to right: Sergey Finashin, Yuri Burov, Nikita Netsvetaev, Boris Solomyak, Alexander Goncharov, Tanya Khovanova, Sergei Mironov, our chaperone Z.I. Moiseeva, our team leader A.P. Savin, no clue who this is (probably a translator), Piotr Grinevich.

The list below is ordered by the number of points received at the Olympiad.

Tanya Khovanova, 39 points: a lecturer at MIT. I am interested in a wide range of topics, mostly recreational mathematics and have written 60 papers.

Sergey Finashin, 37 points: a full professor at Middle East Technical University in Turkey, who is interested in topology. He wrote 40+ papers.

Alexander Goncharov, 37 points: a full professor at Yale University. He is the highest achiever on the team. He won the EMS Prize in 1992 and was an Invited Speaker at the 1994 International Congress of Mathematicians. He is interested in geometry, representation theory, and mathematical physics. He published 75 papers in refereed journals.

Nikita Netsvetaev, 34 points: a full professor at Saint-Petersburg University in Russia. He is interested in topology and algebraic geometry and wrote 20 papers.

Boris Solomyak, 31 points: a full professor at Bar-Ilan University. He is interested in fractal geometry and dynamical systems and wrote 90 papers.

Piotr Grinevich, 26 points: a leading scientific researcher at the Landau Institute for Theoretical Physics. He also teaches at Moscow State University. He is interested in integrable systems and wrote 80 papers.

Sergei Mironov, 24 points. Sergey became very ill while he was an undergrad. He stopped doing mathematics.

Yuri Burov, 22 points. Yuri wrote two papers, but quit mathematics after graduate school. He died several years ago from multiple sclerosis.

Six out of eight people on our team became mathematicians. Or more precisely five an a half. I consider myself a mathematician and am grateful for my position at MIT, where I run innovative programs for young mathematicians. But in the research world, a lecturer is a nobody. This makes me sad. I had to take breaks from research in order to raise my two children. And then I had to work in the private sector in order to support them. I was the best on my team and now I am the only one who is not a full professor. If you are looking for an example of how gender affects a career in academia, this is it.

For many years I tried to lose weight using the idea that most appealed to me: intuitive eating. By that I mean that you eat only when you are hungry. Looking back at frustrating years of trying, I wonder what took me so long to realize that this doesn’t work.

I am most hungry at the end of a meal. The only time I want to kill people is when they get between me and my future third helping of cheesecake. I never get the same ravenous feeling if I haven’t eaten for some time, or have just started eating.

I am least hungry in the morning. I can work on my computer for hours before I even remember that I need to eat.

When my stomach signals that it needs more food, it is always wrong. Recently, I discovered what is right. I am using myfitnesspal app for my phone that counts my calories. From time to time I know that I haven’t eaten enough. At these times, I don’t experience my hunger in my gut. I feel it in my head: I feel dizzy.

I decided to drop the idea of intuitive eating and outsource the decision of when and what to eat to a higher power: my smart-phone.

After graduating from MIT, my son Sergei joined Two Sigma, a hedge-fund. Last year he came to MIT representing Two Sigma at a career fair. I visited him in his booth. He was just standing there next to himself on the poster.

I should stop worrying about him. If math does not work out, he has a chance at modelling.

I’ve been trying to lose weight for three years. I wasn’t very successful, but I always had plan B. I just didn’t like it. I started my weight-loss journey at 245 pounds. Driven by my initial enthusiasm, I lost 25 pounds, but then I slowly gained back 20 pounds. That was it. I had to do the difficult thing: plan B.

My plan B was to log all I eat, convert it to nutrition elements, study it, and adjust my eating habits accordingly. I didn’t want to do that: it seemed so complicated. I am not good at estimating weights, nor do I know how to convert food to calories and fat. Besides, it all seemed like such a bother.

When I gained back the weight and reached 240 pounds, I didn’t feel I had much choice. At that point my friend Luba showed me how to use the phone app myfitnesspal. I loved it. The app simplified the whole challenge. I bought a small kitchen scale to help me determine food weight, but more often than not, I don’t need it. The app has a database of standard foods, as well as a barcode scanner. For example, when I take my favorite cranberry walnut roll that I buy at Trader Joe’s, I just scan the barcode and the phone tells me, “Oops. 210 calories.” This means I can only eat one a day — not all six as I might have done.

I started using this app on November 16, 2015. It seems to be working. And I made a lot of interesting discoveries.

• Those walnuts that I eat like popcorn while watching movies have a ton of calories. They might be healthy natural food, but if I munch them throughout a movie, then I can’t eat anything else that day.
• When I know that I can only allow myself one square of chocolate, it tastes better than pigging out on the whole bar.
• I made a rule of logging my food before I eat it. This killed my habit of snacking. Finally, my laziness works for me.

I am losing weight, but to avoid jinxing it until I achieve a certain target, I don’t want to reveal actual numbers.

To be continued…

Although I cut most carbs from my diet, I still wasn’t losing weight. I started my weight-loss journey three years ago when I was 245 pounds. My initial excitement helped me get to 220, but then I started slowly gaining it back to 235 pounds. A couple of friends of mine who lost a lot of weight explained to me that I didn’t actually cut all the carbs from my diet. I eliminated pizza, potatoes, spaghetti, sugar, cookies, soda, and so on. But there are many carbs hidden in some very natural and healthy foods. For example, a banana has 27 grams of carbs.

I love bananas; I can live on bananas alone. But my friends convinced me to cut the bananas, too. I agreed, but in that week I gained five more pounds. I think that every time I remove something from my diet, I end up becoming more relaxed with other food.

Clearly, carbs-cutting doesn’t work. I am back to 240 pounds. Time for plan B.

As a child I felt that society expected me to grow up and be a mother. And only to be a mother. It didn’t make any sense to me, because if all that people do is reproduce, how will progress be made? So in my teens I decided that in addition to having children, I need to do something else, something to make the world a better place.

For many years I wasn’t too successful in my plan. My children were my priority. I believed that for the first three years they needed a lot of my attention, which they couldn’t necessarily get from a nanny. Later, being a single mother was so overwhelming that I didn’t have time for other missions.

As my children grew, I felt myself imposing my own ambitions onto them. It wasn’t fair to burden my children like that. I was meant to do something with my life other than bring up children. There was no substitute — I had to do it myself.

At that time, I was working at BAE Systems, but I hated my job. Its only purpose was to support my family. So as soon as my youngest son turned 16, I resigned to come back to mathematics. Though mathematics has my full attention now, my children are still my priority. I can afford to do what I love, because it is good for my children too. I am living my own ambitions, and they have the space to live theirs.

I was supposed to write about menopause. I am writing about menopause, just give me a second. I was also raised to believe that the best thing I can do for a man is to give him children. Every time I loved someone I wanted to have a child with that person, or I thought that I was supposed to want to. Now that I can’t conceive a child for any potential future husband, I feel relieved. I can’t be blamed any more for not having children. I am so happy that my current attempt at mathematics will not be interrupted any more.

I am so glad that I live in an age when women’s life expectancy is way past menopause. I might love a man again; I might marry. I am so glad that I have an excuse not to have children. I can do what I want to do. I am free.

I enjoy doing research in recreational mathematics. The biggest problem is that the probability that something I’ve done has already been done before is very high. This is partially because of the nature of this area of research. Trying to find new questions that are not buried deep in the abstract means someone else could have stumbled upon the same question. In addition, I like going in different directions: geometry, number theory, probability, combinatorics, and so on. That means I am not an expert in any of the areas. This too increases my probability of doing something that has already been done before.

This is quite unpleasant: to discover that I reinvented the wheel. And I keep reinvented different wheels on a regular basis. When I complain, my mathematician friends give me the same advice over and over:

Find your own niche!

I’ve been trying to understand what they mean, and finally I got it:

Do something no one else is interested in using methods no one else can understand.

Finding a topic that is not interesting almost guarantees that other people didn’t do it before. Developing new complicated methods helps limit the number of followers and prevents the niche from becoming crowded.

Now I know why I see so many boring math papers I can’t understand.

To hell with my own niche!