The college library is usually a good place to read and get work done, but it just so happens that for the past couple months there's been a construction project right outside; I assume it's taking so long because the construction only happens when there's most need for a quiet library. It's not the construction workers' fault, of course, but I find myself expecting to see someone have a nervous breakdown in the middle of the library when the noise finally becomes unbearable.
Most of the construction noise seems to be drilling, which is unfortunate. I feel like listening to a pile driver or someone shoveling gravel would be more pleasing to the ear. I'm relaxing right now by listening to all kinds of shovel sound effects.
Showing posts with label Rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rants. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
Friday, January 15, 2016
Stopping Watching
There are a few movies I'll watch through purely on the recommendations of other people. In many cases, though, I use the half hour test, turning the movie off if the first half hour isn't interesting. In some cases, I assume, this is my loss because the rest of the movie is better and makes the first bit more interesting as part of the whole, but that's a risk I'm willing to take.
There's often a trigger that makes me quit a movie or TV show, like a long conversation full of angsty staring or a story decision that breaks the fantasy the movie is trying to sell. In many cases, it's cringe that makes me leave; watching embarrassing situations is the opposite of entertaining for me, so unless there's a good reason to keep watching, I switch to something else.
I can't think of many examples of movies I've stopped watching, mostly because I didn't like them much. This blog post, however, was triggered by the film Drive after one too many ten second silences in conversation. My motto is "I'm not a connoisseur."
There's often a trigger that makes me quit a movie or TV show, like a long conversation full of angsty staring or a story decision that breaks the fantasy the movie is trying to sell. In many cases, it's cringe that makes me leave; watching embarrassing situations is the opposite of entertaining for me, so unless there's a good reason to keep watching, I switch to something else.
I can't think of many examples of movies I've stopped watching, mostly because I didn't like them much. This blog post, however, was triggered by the film Drive after one too many ten second silences in conversation. My motto is "I'm not a connoisseur."
Sunday, November 15, 2015
We Can't Have Nice Things
The 'tragedy of the commons' is the idea that individuals acting without regard to the interests of the group often damage the well-being of everyone, including themselves. Littering, for example, is easy for the individual and costly for society. In the most extreme case, a good thing is ruined for everybody through the actions of one person, like Hitler and the toothbrush mustache.
The basic requirement for a utopia is that the tragedy of the commons doesn't exist. In reality, harmful individual tendencies have to be discouraged by the threat of retaliation, i.e. laws and rules. To try to eliminate the tragedy of the commons by force, however, probably makes a dystopia. World governments and societies have to find a balance between individual freedom and societal good.
The extreme options, then, are anarchy and totalitarianism. The middle ground seems better, but still far from ideal. If things are not as they should be, it's because of human nature. It's not a characteristic evolution could change; the conflict between individual fitness and species fitness seems to be ingrained. The way to a perfect world must be sought elsewhere.
The basic requirement for a utopia is that the tragedy of the commons doesn't exist. In reality, harmful individual tendencies have to be discouraged by the threat of retaliation, i.e. laws and rules. To try to eliminate the tragedy of the commons by force, however, probably makes a dystopia. World governments and societies have to find a balance between individual freedom and societal good.
The extreme options, then, are anarchy and totalitarianism. The middle ground seems better, but still far from ideal. If things are not as they should be, it's because of human nature. It's not a characteristic evolution could change; the conflict between individual fitness and species fitness seems to be ingrained. The way to a perfect world must be sought elsewhere.
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Tutorials
One great thing about studying at Oxford is the tutorial system; once a week, students meet one-on-one or in small groups with a professor and are assigned work (usually reading and an essay) to do by next week's meeting. It's a very flexible system and varies between departments and colleges. For both of my tutorials, I've been given great advice and been able to choose very specifically what to study. These first few weeks of term have involved Beowulf, J.R.R. Tolkien, medicinal plants, and nest-building behaviors in songbirds.
This seems like a pretty good deal; why isn't the tutorial system more common in Universities? Oxford and Cambridge are the main two institutions that use tutorials, and I believe Williams College is one lonely example in the U.S. It could be that holding tutorials is more expensive and difficult to organize than the lectures and classes typical of most universities. I don't know much about the logistics involved.
It is important to note that people go to college to different valid reasons-- the knowledge and skills gained, the relationships gained, the degree at the end. Tutorials may not be the ideal experience for everyone, but I suppose I've already declared which camp I'm in. In the past few years, I've found that after talking to a cynical student with their eye on the finish line, the best thing to cheer me up is listening to someone who really enjoys their work.
This seems like a pretty good deal; why isn't the tutorial system more common in Universities? Oxford and Cambridge are the main two institutions that use tutorials, and I believe Williams College is one lonely example in the U.S. It could be that holding tutorials is more expensive and difficult to organize than the lectures and classes typical of most universities. I don't know much about the logistics involved.
It is important to note that people go to college to different valid reasons-- the knowledge and skills gained, the relationships gained, the degree at the end. Tutorials may not be the ideal experience for everyone, but I suppose I've already declared which camp I'm in. In the past few years, I've found that after talking to a cynical student with their eye on the finish line, the best thing to cheer me up is listening to someone who really enjoys their work.
Friday, May 8, 2015
Superstition and the Search for Signal
I heard once that the difference between a superstition and a myth is that a superstition makes testable predictions whereas a myth refers to things that happened once and shouldn't be expected to repeat. A superstition, for example, would say, "Walking under a ladder is bad luck," i.e. anyone who walks under a ladder can be expected to have bad luck. A myth would say, "There was a time when the moon and the sun talked every day and were bright in the sky at the same time." This myth would go on to tell how things changed to become as they are now, so that the state of things now is irrelevant to whether or not the myth is true.
All that is to say, of course, that I engaged in some modern superstitions today in trying to connect to the internet. I was walking around my apartment holding my laptop and trying to find the spot of best connectivity. I didn't want to be wandering around randomly, but I don't know exactly how wireless connections work, and this lack of knowledge is what leads to superstition. Without further ado, then, here are the superstitions that guided me:
Internet comes from the sky, so holding my computer at a higher elevation will lead to better connectivity.
Internet has a hard time going through walls, so I should put the computer near a window.
Turning computers on and off often fixes things, so rapidly turning my wireless receiver on and off will give me a better signal.
Some of these ideas might be closer to the truth than others; I know, for example, that the wireless router that somehow projects internet is in the apartment above me, so having my computer closer to the ceiling might actually help. I've been calling these superstitions because some technology can seem a bit mystical to those of us who don't know exactly how it works. Since the internet isn't supernatural, though, all of these statements could be tested with experiments.
Why can't superstitions that involve the supernatural be tested with experiments? If there is, for example, a spirit that turns milk sour when not appeased with rice, any useful experiment on this superstition would have to control for the activity of the spirit, which isn't possible. The alternative, running the experiment while assuming that the spirit doesn't exist, is putting the answer before the question. If a person assumes that there's a plot against them, nothing other people say will convince them otherwise.
In any case, I'm writing this from a laptop three feet off the ground next to a window and I'm turning the wireless receiver on and off whenever I get any trouble with the signal. Take that as you will.
All that is to say, of course, that I engaged in some modern superstitions today in trying to connect to the internet. I was walking around my apartment holding my laptop and trying to find the spot of best connectivity. I didn't want to be wandering around randomly, but I don't know exactly how wireless connections work, and this lack of knowledge is what leads to superstition. Without further ado, then, here are the superstitions that guided me:
Internet comes from the sky, so holding my computer at a higher elevation will lead to better connectivity.
Internet has a hard time going through walls, so I should put the computer near a window.
Turning computers on and off often fixes things, so rapidly turning my wireless receiver on and off will give me a better signal.
Some of these ideas might be closer to the truth than others; I know, for example, that the wireless router that somehow projects internet is in the apartment above me, so having my computer closer to the ceiling might actually help. I've been calling these superstitions because some technology can seem a bit mystical to those of us who don't know exactly how it works. Since the internet isn't supernatural, though, all of these statements could be tested with experiments.
Why can't superstitions that involve the supernatural be tested with experiments? If there is, for example, a spirit that turns milk sour when not appeased with rice, any useful experiment on this superstition would have to control for the activity of the spirit, which isn't possible. The alternative, running the experiment while assuming that the spirit doesn't exist, is putting the answer before the question. If a person assumes that there's a plot against them, nothing other people say will convince them otherwise.
In any case, I'm writing this from a laptop three feet off the ground next to a window and I'm turning the wireless receiver on and off whenever I get any trouble with the signal. Take that as you will.
Saturday, April 18, 2015
Student Businesses
I recently read an article in the school newspaper about two students who were starting a clothing company selling men's button-up shirts. Their two main advertising points are quality and "affordable prices for college students"; great ideas, but they're selling the shirts for $60 each. Fortunately, Emory students get a special rate of $40 a shirt.
Moreover, these students source their shirts from China-- one might think that this means a great profit margin, but these students say that they "refuse to allow their clothing to be marked up in price."
If these students are sincere, they're selling to a niche market. In my uninformed view, this company advertising affordability is like a thrift store advertising how brand new its products are: it's probably not true and the target market probably doesn't care.
Moreover, these students source their shirts from China-- one might think that this means a great profit margin, but these students say that they "refuse to allow their clothing to be marked up in price."
If these students are sincere, they're selling to a niche market. In my uninformed view, this company advertising affordability is like a thrift store advertising how brand new its products are: it's probably not true and the target market probably doesn't care.
Saturday, April 11, 2015
IDOC of the Future
The IDOC is a tedious packet of tax documents required yearly for me to apply for financial aid. It's processed by Collegeboard. There are very specific requirements for paper size and print quality and mailing procedure. After bad experiences with IDOC in past years, I'd been mentally gritting my teeth for this year's submission.
Imagine my surprise, then, when I found out that IDOC can now be submitted digitally! It's a huge relief, and I suppose that the conversation at Collegeboard went something like this:
Employee 1: Well, it's time to process IDOC again.
Employee 2: Yeah, I really love sorting through tens of thousands of envelopes and making sure every bit of paper gets to the right place.
enter Employee 3: Hey guys, guys! I just looked at my calendar! The year is actually 2015!
Employee 1: Whaaa...
Employee 2: It can't be... it's 1980, right? Why else would we be dealing with all these envelopes?
Employee 3: No, we're really in the 21st century and we can use the internet and everything! It'll be so much easier for everyone involved!
Employee 1: I don't know... I always thought that financial aid should be based on how much paperwork the student is willing to go through.
Employee 2: Come on, you can always process SATs if you miss handling envelopes.
Employee 3: I'll start coding a new IDOC website right away!
all cheer
In any case, I'm happy to witness the slow digitization and simplification of my financial aid experience.
Imagine my surprise, then, when I found out that IDOC can now be submitted digitally! It's a huge relief, and I suppose that the conversation at Collegeboard went something like this:
Employee 1: Well, it's time to process IDOC again.
Employee 2: Yeah, I really love sorting through tens of thousands of envelopes and making sure every bit of paper gets to the right place.
enter Employee 3: Hey guys, guys! I just looked at my calendar! The year is actually 2015!
Employee 1: Whaaa...
Employee 2: It can't be... it's 1980, right? Why else would we be dealing with all these envelopes?
Employee 3: No, we're really in the 21st century and we can use the internet and everything! It'll be so much easier for everyone involved!
Employee 1: I don't know... I always thought that financial aid should be based on how much paperwork the student is willing to go through.
Employee 2: Come on, you can always process SATs if you miss handling envelopes.
Employee 3: I'll start coding a new IDOC website right away!
all cheer
In any case, I'm happy to witness the slow digitization and simplification of my financial aid experience.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Advertisement Technicalities
Avoiding advertisements is difficult to impossible in the modern world, so I like to make a game of finding reasons to not be convinced by ads.
I just heard an Old Navy ad: the "entire store is on sale for up to 50% off." The "up to 50% off" is the first red flag that this actually isn't a good deal. It could be that one rack of polos is 50% off and the rest of the store could have measly 5% or 10% discounts, and the ad would still be technically correct (the best kind of correct).
However, there was also a disclaimer at the end of the ad that gift cards and Fruit-of-the-Looms are not included in the deal.
I just heard an Old Navy ad: the "entire store is on sale for up to 50% off." The "up to 50% off" is the first red flag that this actually isn't a good deal. It could be that one rack of polos is 50% off and the rest of the store could have measly 5% or 10% discounts, and the ad would still be technically correct (the best kind of correct).
However, there was also a disclaimer at the end of the ad that gift cards and Fruit-of-the-Looms are not included in the deal.
en·tire
ənˈtī(ə)r/
adjective
1. with no part left out; whole.
1. with no part left out; whole.
This ad, then, clearly breaks the Standards of Practice set in place by the American Association of Advertising Agencies, specifically Creative Code 1.a.
I'm not, of course, going to actually do anything about this breach of standard, but Old Navy will not be receiving my customership for a while, a gesture made insignificant by the fact that I don't actually know where any Old Navies are in Atlanta.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Not Pockets
A new semester is full of new things, but I wasn't prepared for the moment I walked into the convenience store and discovered that they no longer stocked hot pockets. What am I going to eat for my unhealthy midnight snack if not a mass of meat and melted cheese inside a pastry pocket?
I bought some other microwave snack and was flabbergasted when I saw the cooking instructions: cook for two minutes in the microwave, then seven minutes in the oven. What's up with that? If I wanted to be doing complex cooking, I would be eating meringues and yorkshire pudding.
Of course, what I'm talking about here isn't an actual problem, but a demonstration of the rightful place of hot pockets in any good frozen aisle. In a market where food designed for convenience, requiring lazy college kids to place something in a microwave, wait, remove it from the microwave, place it in the oven, and wait some more has to be the death of success.
I bought some other microwave snack and was flabbergasted when I saw the cooking instructions: cook for two minutes in the microwave, then seven minutes in the oven. What's up with that? If I wanted to be doing complex cooking, I would be eating meringues and yorkshire pudding.
Of course, what I'm talking about here isn't an actual problem, but a demonstration of the rightful place of hot pockets in any good frozen aisle. In a market where food designed for convenience, requiring lazy college kids to place something in a microwave, wait, remove it from the microwave, place it in the oven, and wait some more has to be the death of success.
Sunday, December 14, 2014
Exam Design
What's the purpose of an academic exam? Generally, exams are meant to evaluate what knowledge and skills a student has gained, and the way an exam is designed determines what skills are tested.
A general example of this is multiple choice vs free response. Multiple choice questions test recognition-- selecting one correct answer from a finite, visible pool of answers. Free response questions, on the other hand, test recollection, determining if a student can identify a correct answer without being prompted.
What would happen if students were allowed to look at their notes during an exam? Understanding and memory would probably be less vital, and note-taking ability would be the major skill tested.
Next, what would happen if the professor made available all possible questions on the exam and their correct answers for students to study before taking a take-home exam? Two things are tested in this case: short-term memory, as looking over the question bank right before taking the exam is a no-brainer, and moral soundness, for cheating on such an exam would be extremely easy to do and get away with.
With the question bank so readily available, it's hard to imagine that anyone in the class would get less than a 95% on this exam, so it's safe to say that knowledge and skills aren't really being evaluated. This isn't something I should be complaining about, but if exams are my roller coasters, this one was a merry-go-round.
A general example of this is multiple choice vs free response. Multiple choice questions test recognition-- selecting one correct answer from a finite, visible pool of answers. Free response questions, on the other hand, test recollection, determining if a student can identify a correct answer without being prompted.
What would happen if students were allowed to look at their notes during an exam? Understanding and memory would probably be less vital, and note-taking ability would be the major skill tested.
Next, what would happen if the professor made available all possible questions on the exam and their correct answers for students to study before taking a take-home exam? Two things are tested in this case: short-term memory, as looking over the question bank right before taking the exam is a no-brainer, and moral soundness, for cheating on such an exam would be extremely easy to do and get away with.
With the question bank so readily available, it's hard to imagine that anyone in the class would get less than a 95% on this exam, so it's safe to say that knowledge and skills aren't really being evaluated. This isn't something I should be complaining about, but if exams are my roller coasters, this one was a merry-go-round.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Contemporary Philosophy
I remember an annoying game I used to play where I would ask, "why?" after every statement made by whoever I was talking to. "Why do things fall to the ground?"
"Because of gravity."
"Yeah, but why does gravity work?"
"Because every time two pieces of matter exist, they attract each other."
"Why?"
I know I'm not the only person to have done this as a child, but such questions are also the focus of metaphysical philosophy. Many contemporary philosophers, building on the assumption that deductive logic is the only way to know truth (ironic), have followed this string of whys to the bitter end in a quest for absolute certainty.
A philosopher, born in 1967, called Quentin Meillassoux, has suggested the following:
"Our inability rationally to determine an absolute necessity or sufficient reason underlying things, properly understood, can be affirmed as a demonstration that there is in fact no such necessity or reason." (Hallward 132)
In other words, the argument is this:
1. Humans, being finite in understanding and knowledge, cannot prove that things must be the way they are (necessary). We have an idea, for example, that pushing a box causes it to move, but we cannot prove using deductive logic that it was the action of pushing the box that made it move.
2. This ignorance and lack of understanding, according to Meillassoux, is absolute proof that no necessity exists anywhere in the universe. The idea that humans are not omniscient disproves the existence of natural laws and causality itself.
This philosophy, called speculative realism, has other bad arguments, arbitrarily setting up non-contradiction and mathematics as the only things in the universe that are necessary, despite earlier saying that nothing is necessary. However, focusing on point 2, I'd like to dwell on how appalling this view is both for those who think logic has value and those who don't care about proving things.
Logically, 2 does not follow from one. Deductive logic is only valid when, given the premise (1), the conclusion (2) is the only possible result. Given premise 1, any number of results outside of 2 can be conceived. It could, for example, be that there is something in the universe transcendent to humans (God is the most obvious, but even pi is transcendent).
When logic is thrown out the window, Meillassoux has nothing to offer the world. There is no practical application of the idea that things might be otherwise. However good is defined, there seems to be nothing good that can come of this philosophy.
As a person with relatively little education in philosophy, I recognize that there could be redeeming aspects of speculative realism that I don't understand, but as I currently see things, contemporary metaphysics, when it assumes that humans are the highest form of existence, is insane.
"Because of gravity."
"Yeah, but why does gravity work?"
"Because every time two pieces of matter exist, they attract each other."
"Why?"
I know I'm not the only person to have done this as a child, but such questions are also the focus of metaphysical philosophy. Many contemporary philosophers, building on the assumption that deductive logic is the only way to know truth (ironic), have followed this string of whys to the bitter end in a quest for absolute certainty.
A philosopher, born in 1967, called Quentin Meillassoux, has suggested the following:
"Our inability rationally to determine an absolute necessity or sufficient reason underlying things, properly understood, can be affirmed as a demonstration that there is in fact no such necessity or reason." (Hallward 132)
In other words, the argument is this:
1. Humans, being finite in understanding and knowledge, cannot prove that things must be the way they are (necessary). We have an idea, for example, that pushing a box causes it to move, but we cannot prove using deductive logic that it was the action of pushing the box that made it move.
2. This ignorance and lack of understanding, according to Meillassoux, is absolute proof that no necessity exists anywhere in the universe. The idea that humans are not omniscient disproves the existence of natural laws and causality itself.
This philosophy, called speculative realism, has other bad arguments, arbitrarily setting up non-contradiction and mathematics as the only things in the universe that are necessary, despite earlier saying that nothing is necessary. However, focusing on point 2, I'd like to dwell on how appalling this view is both for those who think logic has value and those who don't care about proving things.
Logically, 2 does not follow from one. Deductive logic is only valid when, given the premise (1), the conclusion (2) is the only possible result. Given premise 1, any number of results outside of 2 can be conceived. It could, for example, be that there is something in the universe transcendent to humans (God is the most obvious, but even pi is transcendent).
When logic is thrown out the window, Meillassoux has nothing to offer the world. There is no practical application of the idea that things might be otherwise. However good is defined, there seems to be nothing good that can come of this philosophy.
As a person with relatively little education in philosophy, I recognize that there could be redeeming aspects of speculative realism that I don't understand, but as I currently see things, contemporary metaphysics, when it assumes that humans are the highest form of existence, is insane.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Using Big Words
Why do people use big words? On the 'good' end of the spectrum, words can be used for precision-- the sentence "I climbed a volcano" is easier to say and understand than "I climbed one of those mountains that has lava in it."
In my opinion, a more 'neutral' way of using complicated words is as jargon-- language that is understandable only to a certain set of people. This language can make outsiders feel isolated, but it may grant some sense of unity to the people who know it. For example, gamers have a sort of shared language and are brought together by in-jokes about critical hits and combos.
There is, of course, a use of 'big words' that I consider bad. Using big words to make oneself sound more important or knowledgeable is, in my opinion, useless at best and counterproductive at worst. For example, take a sentence from my assigned philosophy reading: "We simply query the reasonableness of this norm." Why use 'query' when 'question' would serve the same purpose and sound less pretentious? It's not more precise-- 'query' is almost a direct synonym with 'question.' It's not jargon either-- from what I've seen, the word 'question' is commonly used in academic papers. What went through the mind of the author as they wrote that sentence? I suppose we'll never know.
In my opinion, a more 'neutral' way of using complicated words is as jargon-- language that is understandable only to a certain set of people. This language can make outsiders feel isolated, but it may grant some sense of unity to the people who know it. For example, gamers have a sort of shared language and are brought together by in-jokes about critical hits and combos.
There is, of course, a use of 'big words' that I consider bad. Using big words to make oneself sound more important or knowledgeable is, in my opinion, useless at best and counterproductive at worst. For example, take a sentence from my assigned philosophy reading: "We simply query the reasonableness of this norm." Why use 'query' when 'question' would serve the same purpose and sound less pretentious? It's not more precise-- 'query' is almost a direct synonym with 'question.' It's not jargon either-- from what I've seen, the word 'question' is commonly used in academic papers. What went through the mind of the author as they wrote that sentence? I suppose we'll never know.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Student Perspective
Today was the first day of classes and I attended three lectures taught by professors Emory has hired and one lecture taught by a graduate student. Now, this graduate student was very knowledgeable in the area he was instructing, but the minutes crawled by as a series of topics I wasn't very interested in was covered.
Each of the professors whose classes I attended was dynamic and filled with an infectious excitement for their area of expertise. They moved quickly and carried the class with them, and while they certainly weren't perfect, they were interesting to learn from.
Before I make my final generalization, there are two things that should be said. First, responsibility does rest on the student to engage in a class, so it's not only the instructor's fault if something isn't interesting. Second, it's distinctly possible that I'll one day be a graduate student teaching introductory courses, and I'm sure I'd see things differently then.
My experience today indicates that it takes more than basic knowledge to be a good instructor, and I think it's a shame that so many classes at a school like Emory are taught by students only a few years more advanced in their education than us. I don't have an obvious solution, but would suggest that if a student is expected to invest financially and mentally in a class, it should be more than a student-led study session.
Each of the professors whose classes I attended was dynamic and filled with an infectious excitement for their area of expertise. They moved quickly and carried the class with them, and while they certainly weren't perfect, they were interesting to learn from.
Before I make my final generalization, there are two things that should be said. First, responsibility does rest on the student to engage in a class, so it's not only the instructor's fault if something isn't interesting. Second, it's distinctly possible that I'll one day be a graduate student teaching introductory courses, and I'm sure I'd see things differently then.
My experience today indicates that it takes more than basic knowledge to be a good instructor, and I think it's a shame that so many classes at a school like Emory are taught by students only a few years more advanced in their education than us. I don't have an obvious solution, but would suggest that if a student is expected to invest financially and mentally in a class, it should be more than a student-led study session.
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Fun Times With ALEKS
Below is a relatively calm and uninteresting rant about ALEKS. To all those poor, huddled, masses who are, with me, subjected to ALEKS' frustrating but probably beneficial system of education, welcome to the bonfire, and may all your answers have the correct number of significant figures.
ALEKS is an online program that helps students improve their math and science skills through the 'practice makes better' method. I have ALEKS work assigned every week or so for Chemistry 142, and while I do think that ALEKS helps me remember and solidify various Chemistry contents, the past three hours I spent ALEKS have been very frustrating, and here's why:
First of all, I'm going about the work the wrong way. My Chem professor and ALEKS evangelist says that ALEKS is meant to be done a little bit every day, rather than *ahem* just the weekend before it's due. I've adopted the at-times-daunting policy that if a piece of homework is worth doing, it's worth doing all at once. This means that I have to juggernaut through all the little annoyances ALEKS puts in place to punish procrastinators. Here are two of the more irritating time-wasters:
Even this far into Chemistry, many problems give data in units that have to be converted before being plugged into whatever equation is being used. I had hoped that, once my basic algebra skills were established, I wouldn't have to go through the same process every time.
In questions that involve molecular interactions, all relevant molar masses are given except the one vital one. Almost without fail, the most difficult-to-calculate molar mass isn't given.
Secondly, it's very time-consuming to enter answers. This isn't really ALEKS' fault, but there's really no quick way to enter information like chemical formulas and equations into a computer. What ALEKS does do is provide large empty charts to be filled out with basic information. While these charts usually aren't difficult at all, getting bored while filling them out can result in slight oversights, and one wrong answer means the entire question is marked wrong and the chart must be re-filled from scratch.
Lastly, ALEKS seems to work on the premise that getting a question wrong means you don't know the science behind it. I believe in the power of practice just as much as the next person, but what I find happening with ALEKS is not a learning process, but me trying to prove to ALEKS that I know what I'm talking about. I do learn some things - today I re-learned the principles of basic equilibrium reactions - but the bulk of my time is spent reading questions, trying to figure out what ALEKS wants me to say, and saying it. Getting a question wrong means you have to complete two more questions to advance, and, most irritating of all, after two consecutive wrong answers (for example, when I learned the hard way that ALEKS treated ICE tables differently from our textbook), ALEKS begins to subtly suggest that you might not have the mental capacity to complete the question and might want to go and play with building blocks or something.
Maybe I just get annoyed when a machine tells me I'm wrong. Or it could be that I dislike the way ALEKS seems to pretend to be a person when it has very little skill with nuances such as rounding. Whatever the case, I have to say it does make me feel better to pinpoint the things I dislike about the program. ALEKS is a workbook that tries to be a teacher as well.
ALEKS is an online program that helps students improve their math and science skills through the 'practice makes better' method. I have ALEKS work assigned every week or so for Chemistry 142, and while I do think that ALEKS helps me remember and solidify various Chemistry contents, the past three hours I spent ALEKS have been very frustrating, and here's why:
First of all, I'm going about the work the wrong way. My Chem professor and ALEKS evangelist says that ALEKS is meant to be done a little bit every day, rather than *ahem* just the weekend before it's due. I've adopted the at-times-daunting policy that if a piece of homework is worth doing, it's worth doing all at once. This means that I have to juggernaut through all the little annoyances ALEKS puts in place to punish procrastinators. Here are two of the more irritating time-wasters:
Even this far into Chemistry, many problems give data in units that have to be converted before being plugged into whatever equation is being used. I had hoped that, once my basic algebra skills were established, I wouldn't have to go through the same process every time.
In questions that involve molecular interactions, all relevant molar masses are given except the one vital one. Almost without fail, the most difficult-to-calculate molar mass isn't given.
Secondly, it's very time-consuming to enter answers. This isn't really ALEKS' fault, but there's really no quick way to enter information like chemical formulas and equations into a computer. What ALEKS does do is provide large empty charts to be filled out with basic information. While these charts usually aren't difficult at all, getting bored while filling them out can result in slight oversights, and one wrong answer means the entire question is marked wrong and the chart must be re-filled from scratch.
Lastly, ALEKS seems to work on the premise that getting a question wrong means you don't know the science behind it. I believe in the power of practice just as much as the next person, but what I find happening with ALEKS is not a learning process, but me trying to prove to ALEKS that I know what I'm talking about. I do learn some things - today I re-learned the principles of basic equilibrium reactions - but the bulk of my time is spent reading questions, trying to figure out what ALEKS wants me to say, and saying it. Getting a question wrong means you have to complete two more questions to advance, and, most irritating of all, after two consecutive wrong answers (for example, when I learned the hard way that ALEKS treated ICE tables differently from our textbook), ALEKS begins to subtly suggest that you might not have the mental capacity to complete the question and might want to go and play with building blocks or something.
Maybe I just get annoyed when a machine tells me I'm wrong. Or it could be that I dislike the way ALEKS seems to pretend to be a person when it has very little skill with nuances such as rounding. Whatever the case, I have to say it does make me feel better to pinpoint the things I dislike about the program. ALEKS is a workbook that tries to be a teacher as well.
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