So . . . working in a university provides me with lots of mental fodder for how we can be better educating our young (and not-so-young) people. And it has been clear (to me, as well as others) that our current university system is severly flawed.
I'm not going to go into all of the reasons why this is, or even the most-talked-about reason (people whose primary goal is specific research into largely esoteric topics teaching general theory and knowledge to people who need practical skills). Today I'm going to discuss how students are admitted into university and progress through.
As I've mentioned before (and will again), people are horrible predictors. We cannot accurately foretell what we will be doing in the near future, let alone others. But our entire post-secondary education system is predicated on prediction. In the admissions process, we heavily weight past scholastic achievement, and somewhat include other factors (e.g. extracurriculars, community-mindedness, etc.) and expect that this is predictive of future success. It may be predictive of future academic success (but even that is doubtful), but certainly not post-university success.
There are two other factors that further complicate the matter. One is that we expect people at the age of seventeen/eighteen (or thereabouts) to be able to decide what their future path looks like, career-wise (prediction again!) and choose a university major accordingly. In Canada, at least (probably elsewhere too), university has become an extension of high school - pretty much everyone goes, even if you don't know what you want to do with your life.
The other complicating factor is that hardly anyone fails out of university. It happens, but it is difficult - you really have to try to fail. So this all adds up to a situation where you have kids who don't know why they are there, staying there, when a lot of them should not have been admitted in the first place. I failed a student this year who was in the last semester of her degree, and there is no way she should have made it that far - she could not even speak English (which is not a character flaw, but is a requirement for success at an English-language university).
My solution? Simple. Admit more students. Let everyone come who wants to. But make it challenging. Any student who can't hack it fails out. Instead of predicting up front who will be successful and then being forced to keep them (more or less), start with everyone and only keep those who show they are capable. You want to be a doctor? Come to medical school. If you fail to meet the requirements, you're out. This would also address the motivation problem - if someone is there 'just cuz,' they are less likely to stay.
A couple of details to defuse potential questions:
1. A failure should not be based on only one (or even two) failed assignments/tests - it should be based on at least a block of courses or a semester. As a believer in the role of randomness, it is possible that a student could do poorly on a quiz or two, and this should not be cause for expulsion.
2. This system would probably result in huge first-year classes, especially in some subjects. Furthermore, it may encourage people who have failed to keep trying different schools or topics until they succeed. The solution for this is two-fold. First, if a student tries a topic and fails, he or she cannot try that topic again, at that school or anywhere else. Second, tuition fees could be skewed such that first year is the most expensive, and it becomes cheaper as the student progresses (or even becomes free in later years, subsidized by the first-year failures). This will pay for the system and keep cohort sizes reasonable, and have the added bonus of providing motivation for success as well as ensuring that students do not enrol unless they are serious (or have deep pockets, or have rich parents who don't care about results).
Ultimately all I am suggesting is that we evaluate students based on how they fare with regard to the topic they are learning at university, rather than based on how they did before they even got there. Less prediction, more results.
So who's up for overhauling a centuries-old institution?
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Dining in the Infinite Void
So . . . my wife surprised me by taking me out to dinner this weekend (in honour of my recent birthday) to O. Noir, a restaurant that provides the unique experience of dining in pitch blackness. This is not just mood lighting - this is no lighting, and the blocking off of any potential light. The servers are all blind people (an article I read said that the owners thought it would be easier to train the blind to wait tables than to train wait staff to maneuver in the dark - more on my opinion of that later) and you literally cannot see your hand in front of your face.
I was very excited to be going, as I had heard about this place some time ago and thought it would be an interesting way to eat. And it was. The darkness didn't disappoint, but other elements did.
You get there, and they take your whole dinner order (including dessert) at the bar before being led into the dining room (by your blind server, with your hand on the shoulder of the person in front of you). You are instructed not to stand up, move around, etc. Plus, you are asked to turn off your cell phone and no photography (I thought that an instruction of 'no flash photography' would be sufficient - if someone wants a picture of the darkness, they can get it). If you need to step out to use the washroom or anything else, you yell out your server's name (ours was Diana) and they come to guide you out.
Now, it bears mentioning at this point that most of the negative comments I have stem from one source (I think - as this is a blog mostly about uncertainty, maybe I have the causes wrong), that being the group of 12 drunken partygoers in our dining room (there seemed to be several - at least 5 - small dining rooms). Not only were they loud, obnoxious, drunk, and annoying, but they also monopolized our server's time. This is where a more experience server may have helped - Diana seemed a bit overwhelmed at times and deprioritized us and the other 2 (I think - couldn't see who else was there) smaller parties.
One thing we were wondering though, is whether the party (it was a surprise party - which is neat if you think about it, because you can't easily tell who is there) would have seemed as loud if we weren't in the dark. Maybe it was that our sense of hearing was heightened (though I think it takes more than a couple of hours of blindness for that to happen), or that they were louder because they could not tell if they were being heard, or maybe they were just jerks.
The food was good, can't say much about the presentation or decor. I had a salad to start, then a steak, then cake and ice cream (no candle on the cake). All of the food arrived relatively bite-sized, and I just dug in with my fingers. I could identify everything except one vegetable that I'm still not sure what it was. The steak was good - if I had seen it I suspect I would have thought it underdone (very soft filet) but blind I just gave it a shot. All in all I had a good time, would have been better if it were a little quieter. Another service issue was that they do two specific seating times, rather than staggered times, so everyone wants the same things at the same times (including to pay - there was a long line to settle bills at the bar).
Good place to take a blind date, assuming you really just want to get to know the personality of the other person.
I was very excited to be going, as I had heard about this place some time ago and thought it would be an interesting way to eat. And it was. The darkness didn't disappoint, but other elements did.
You get there, and they take your whole dinner order (including dessert) at the bar before being led into the dining room (by your blind server, with your hand on the shoulder of the person in front of you). You are instructed not to stand up, move around, etc. Plus, you are asked to turn off your cell phone and no photography (I thought that an instruction of 'no flash photography' would be sufficient - if someone wants a picture of the darkness, they can get it). If you need to step out to use the washroom or anything else, you yell out your server's name (ours was Diana) and they come to guide you out.
Now, it bears mentioning at this point that most of the negative comments I have stem from one source (I think - as this is a blog mostly about uncertainty, maybe I have the causes wrong), that being the group of 12 drunken partygoers in our dining room (there seemed to be several - at least 5 - small dining rooms). Not only were they loud, obnoxious, drunk, and annoying, but they also monopolized our server's time. This is where a more experience server may have helped - Diana seemed a bit overwhelmed at times and deprioritized us and the other 2 (I think - couldn't see who else was there) smaller parties.
One thing we were wondering though, is whether the party (it was a surprise party - which is neat if you think about it, because you can't easily tell who is there) would have seemed as loud if we weren't in the dark. Maybe it was that our sense of hearing was heightened (though I think it takes more than a couple of hours of blindness for that to happen), or that they were louder because they could not tell if they were being heard, or maybe they were just jerks.
The food was good, can't say much about the presentation or decor. I had a salad to start, then a steak, then cake and ice cream (no candle on the cake). All of the food arrived relatively bite-sized, and I just dug in with my fingers. I could identify everything except one vegetable that I'm still not sure what it was. The steak was good - if I had seen it I suspect I would have thought it underdone (very soft filet) but blind I just gave it a shot. All in all I had a good time, would have been better if it were a little quieter. Another service issue was that they do two specific seating times, rather than staggered times, so everyone wants the same things at the same times (including to pay - there was a long line to settle bills at the bar).
Good place to take a blind date, assuming you really just want to get to know the personality of the other person.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Mmmm . . . assassination
So . . . I thought I would give a little morsel for thought this Sunday. I have noticed a strange quirk in my behaviour (only one?) that made me wonder if everyone is susceptible to this or just me.
It seems that whenever I notice a product that is branded with certain things (e.g. Star Wars, Simpsons) I give it special attention and consider buying it when I otherwise wouldn't. So a regular video game - mostly likely not interested. Simpsons video game? Why not? So what if I haven't even watched an episode of the Simpsons in 10 years?
Star Wars elicits the same response, despite the fact that the more recent films cheapened the franchise for me. Am I just a victim of good branding, or is there something else going on? Do any of you experience the same thing?
What it reminds me of most is the connection between J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye and murder. This is more or less a fallacy; it is often noted that Mark David Chapman (who killed John Lennon) and John Hinckley (who tried to kill Reagan), amongst other murderers/would-be murderers owned The Catcher in the Rye and were influenced by it, and therefore there is something about the book that inspires (or at least speaks to) criminals. I call this a fallacy because a) not all murderers are affected by this book, in fact only a small proportion of them who happen to be well-publicized, and b) not all people who read this book become murderers. This is/was a very popular book and 'speaks to' a lot of people (hence the popularity of the name "Holden"), so it is natural that at least a few killers would be among that group. If ownership of a book is a grouping variables for scofflaws, then we should consider the Da Vinci Code in that group - millions own it, and I'll bet some of them are criminals (not to mention the criminal awfulness of the book).
Getting back to my central point after a lengthy digression, there is a movie called Conspiracy Theory starring that notorious drunk and Jew-hater Mel Gibson, in his pre-arrest days. He plays a brainwashed pawn of the CIA in the film and as part of his re-manufactured psyche he compulsively buys copies of, you guessed it, The Catcher in the Rye (sort of a riff on the book's place in assassination history). So I'm wondering if my compulsion to acquire Simpsons and Star Wars merchandise or products is based on this same type of brainwashing, or if it's just the kid inside of me trying to maintain my youth, or something else.
Hopefully in 20 years we won't be thinking that all assassins were inspired by Luke Skywalker somehow (though I could justify murder in the name of Anakin, if it were of Hayden Christensen).
It seems that whenever I notice a product that is branded with certain things (e.g. Star Wars, Simpsons) I give it special attention and consider buying it when I otherwise wouldn't. So a regular video game - mostly likely not interested. Simpsons video game? Why not? So what if I haven't even watched an episode of the Simpsons in 10 years?
Star Wars elicits the same response, despite the fact that the more recent films cheapened the franchise for me. Am I just a victim of good branding, or is there something else going on? Do any of you experience the same thing?
What it reminds me of most is the connection between J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye and murder. This is more or less a fallacy; it is often noted that Mark David Chapman (who killed John Lennon) and John Hinckley (who tried to kill Reagan), amongst other murderers/would-be murderers owned The Catcher in the Rye and were influenced by it, and therefore there is something about the book that inspires (or at least speaks to) criminals. I call this a fallacy because a) not all murderers are affected by this book, in fact only a small proportion of them who happen to be well-publicized, and b) not all people who read this book become murderers. This is/was a very popular book and 'speaks to' a lot of people (hence the popularity of the name "Holden"), so it is natural that at least a few killers would be among that group. If ownership of a book is a grouping variables for scofflaws, then we should consider the Da Vinci Code in that group - millions own it, and I'll bet some of them are criminals (not to mention the criminal awfulness of the book).
Getting back to my central point after a lengthy digression, there is a movie called Conspiracy Theory starring that notorious drunk and Jew-hater Mel Gibson, in his pre-arrest days. He plays a brainwashed pawn of the CIA in the film and as part of his re-manufactured psyche he compulsively buys copies of, you guessed it, The Catcher in the Rye (sort of a riff on the book's place in assassination history). So I'm wondering if my compulsion to acquire Simpsons and Star Wars merchandise or products is based on this same type of brainwashing, or if it's just the kid inside of me trying to maintain my youth, or something else.
Hopefully in 20 years we won't be thinking that all assassins were inspired by Luke Skywalker somehow (though I could justify murder in the name of Anakin, if it were of Hayden Christensen).
Friday, June 4, 2010
Some Solace for Celtics Supporters?
So . . . one of the topics I had intended to include in this blog was sports, and this is the first what will probably be many postings in this area. I have two other specific ideas about sports that I want to write about, and had planned to write about one of these today, but the Lakers winning game one of the NBA finals caused me to change direction.
(If you have no interest in sports you probably won't find this that interesting either. It has more to do with probability and expectations (and uses sports as a context), but I betting there are more people interested in sports than probability and expectation. So for the one or two of you out there interested in both, here you go.)
I changed topic, you see, because Phil Jackson (head coach of the Lakers) is 47-0 in playoff series when his team wins the first game. Which caused a lot of discussion on basketball websites yesterday, as this stat was taken to mean that if the Lakers won the first game, they would win the series. I take issue with this, despite the seemingly compelling statistic. Lets take a closer look.
Phil Jackson has been a very successful head coach (maybe because he is good at it, or maybe he is lucky, to be discussed a different day). By the metric of championships, he is the most successful in NBA history (10 NBA titles as head coach). He has coached in 62 postseason series (53-9 record), which means that if he is 47-0 when his team wins the first game, he must be 6-9 when his team loses the first game. Clearly this is a person who wins more than he loses in general. So right off the bat, he is more likely to win a playoff series than lose it, based on his record.
Second, I would argue (and have to argue, because I don't have the stats handy) that any team that wins the first game of a series is more likely to win the series. Mathematically this just makes sense - that team now needs to win only 3 of the remaining 6 games, while the opposing team must win 4 of 6. It is also arguable that, on average, the better team (with 'better' to be defined in a post on another day) will win the first game (and the series) more often.
Furthermore, the team that performs better in the regular season has home-court advantage, which has been shown in research studies to actually give an advantage to the home team (mostly having to do with the love/hate from the crowd affecting testosterone). So what we have so far is:
(If you have no interest in sports you probably won't find this that interesting either. It has more to do with probability and expectations (and uses sports as a context), but I betting there are more people interested in sports than probability and expectation. So for the one or two of you out there interested in both, here you go.)
I changed topic, you see, because Phil Jackson (head coach of the Lakers) is 47-0 in playoff series when his team wins the first game. Which caused a lot of discussion on basketball websites yesterday, as this stat was taken to mean that if the Lakers won the first game, they would win the series. I take issue with this, despite the seemingly compelling statistic. Lets take a closer look.
Phil Jackson has been a very successful head coach (maybe because he is good at it, or maybe he is lucky, to be discussed a different day). By the metric of championships, he is the most successful in NBA history (10 NBA titles as head coach). He has coached in 62 postseason series (53-9 record), which means that if he is 47-0 when his team wins the first game, he must be 6-9 when his team loses the first game. Clearly this is a person who wins more than he loses in general. So right off the bat, he is more likely to win a playoff series than lose it, based on his record.
Second, I would argue (and have to argue, because I don't have the stats handy) that any team that wins the first game of a series is more likely to win the series. Mathematically this just makes sense - that team now needs to win only 3 of the remaining 6 games, while the opposing team must win 4 of 6. It is also arguable that, on average, the better team (with 'better' to be defined in a post on another day) will win the first game (and the series) more often.
Furthermore, the team that performs better in the regular season has home-court advantage, which has been shown in research studies to actually give an advantage to the home team (mostly having to do with the love/hate from the crowd affecting testosterone). So what we have so far is:
- The team that has the better regular season record (thereby more probable to win) has home-court advantage in the first game.
- Home-court advantage increases this probability of winning this first game.
- This 'better' team also has an increased probability of winning the entire series.
- Winning the first game further increases these odds.
We have four factors all favoring the team that wins the first game (except in situations where the visiting team wins, then there are two factors) in terms of winning the series.
But what does this have to do with our friend Phil? I mean, an probabilistic advantage is one thing, but a perfect record is another. Clearly, the Lakers must be destined to win it all!
Not necessarily, say I. Do the Lakers have a greater chance of winning the series? Sure, but they probably did before last night's game was even played, because they had a better regular-season record and have home-court advantage. But if I were a betting man, I would probably bet against them today, because it would be easy to find someone to give me ridiculous odds based on Phil's record.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Hey, baby, what's your sign?
So . . . today is my birthday, which anyone reading this blog would know because I tend to make a moderately big deal of it (plus, anyone reading this blog is almost certainly someone who knows me personally, so I would have beat you over the head with the fact that it's my special day). Which brings up the topic of astrology.
Astrology, frankly, is a load of crap. Most people know this, though some people delude themselves into thinking they know this and then go checking their horoscope anyway. I have actually heard somewhat intelligent people try to defend a scientific basis for astrology, and I ain't buying it. There is, however, a scientific basis for why some people buy it.
A common criticism of these prognostications is that everyone is lumped into one of 12 categories, and 1/12 of all people aren't going to have the same thing happen to them. I take the opposite view - I think that 100% of people are going to have the 'same thing' happen to them, because the predictions are vague enough to apply to anything. For example, here is my "if today is your birthday" horoscope (because today is in fact my birthday):
"There is something you would like to do but are reluctant to get started because you fear that others might not approve. That’s just an excuse and you know it. It’s really your own fear that is holding you back. It’s now or never. "
Astrology, frankly, is a load of crap. Most people know this, though some people delude themselves into thinking they know this and then go checking their horoscope anyway. I have actually heard somewhat intelligent people try to defend a scientific basis for astrology, and I ain't buying it. There is, however, a scientific basis for why some people buy it.
A common criticism of these prognostications is that everyone is lumped into one of 12 categories, and 1/12 of all people aren't going to have the same thing happen to them. I take the opposite view - I think that 100% of people are going to have the 'same thing' happen to them, because the predictions are vague enough to apply to anything. For example, here is my "if today is your birthday" horoscope (because today is in fact my birthday):
"There is something you would like to do but are reluctant to get started because you fear that others might not approve. That’s just an excuse and you know it. It’s really your own fear that is holding you back. It’s now or never. "
Tell me, is there anyone out there to whom this wouldn't apply? Add to this the fact that horoscopes are published every day and you get a serious confirmation bias. If a horoscope says (as my Gemini horoscope says today) that my life will soon be turned upside down in a positive way, and it happens, presto! They predicted correctly (note they didn't say when it would happen, just 'soon'). If it doesn't happen, I forget about it because I get another prediction tomorrow, and I guarantee it won't be along the lines of "you will wait for yesterday's horoscope to come true."
On the same note, the personality-trait side of astrology is also bunk. I am a Gemini, which supposedly means I have a (non-schitzoid) split personality. Really? There's more than one side to my personality? What a shocker! Good thing it's only Geminis that exhibit that trait. Astrological traits of various signs such as stubbornness, gullibility, fairness, crabbiness; all of these apply to everyone at some point or another.
Well, at least astrology did give us a hackneyed pick-up line.
Have a happy Eric's birthday!
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
A Rose Would Smell As Sweet, But the Apple's Rotten
So . . . as some of you may know, we're expecting a child in just a few weeks (well, because at the time of this writing I'm pretty sure my only reader is my wife, my entire audience is already well aware of this). Which brings up the topic of baby names.
Baby names are one of the more agonizing decisions pre-child-arrival, especially when I'm involved. I have a habit of suggesting a litany of names, few of which I actually would want to name a child of mine. I'm actually quite insufferable to be around while doing this. But still, people tend to put a lot of thought into the name they give their child. I'm here to tell you that it probably doesn't matter.
Think about it. Your child is going to be who they are regardless of the name that you give them (with an exception described below). It's not as if Bill Gates, Brad Pitt or Denzel Washington were going to be less successful if they were named Mike or Bob or Gary (but perhaps if they were named Pearly, Arm, or Seattle, respectively). Would you be a different person if you were named something else?
And enough with the meanings already - my name means "ever powerful, ever ruler," which I like, but I'm still not ruling anything. Most names mean something nice, or at least pleasant. Dispel the notion that you have to wait to 'meet' the baby before giving him or her a name - anyone who has been around a newborn knows that a) their adult personality has yet to emerge and b) they are all more or less the same for the first few days. Nothing about them is going to suggest a name, other than perhaps Crier, Poopie, or, if you're lucky, Sleepyhead.
Research has shown a correlation between name and socioeconomic status, but it tends to work in the opposite way from what I'm discussing (i.e. certain names are more popular with different socioeconomic classes). So go ahead and just pick a name. It's not going to change anything about who your child becomes. As long as you like the name (because you'll be saying it several thousand times a year) and it isn't easily made fun of (because any name will be made fun of, so you might as well make it challenging for the bullies), it's okay.
Which brings me to the exception - any reasonable name is okay. There may indeed be a negative impact on a kid's life if they have a profoundly weird name. Like "Ninja" or "Pumpkin" or "Thursday" (all from a bad-name poll on http://www.misterpoll.com/polls/237094). No "Apple"s or "Brooklyn"s. Please. And nothing difficult to pronounce, such as "Jakeriyonna" or "Deayahjanique". Be nice to your kid. Take into account your last name - so if your last name is "Tinkletop," avoid Timmy as a first name (from a bad-name blog, http://www.notwithoutmyhandbag.com/babynames/).
Baby names are one of the more agonizing decisions pre-child-arrival, especially when I'm involved. I have a habit of suggesting a litany of names, few of which I actually would want to name a child of mine. I'm actually quite insufferable to be around while doing this. But still, people tend to put a lot of thought into the name they give their child. I'm here to tell you that it probably doesn't matter.
Think about it. Your child is going to be who they are regardless of the name that you give them (with an exception described below). It's not as if Bill Gates, Brad Pitt or Denzel Washington were going to be less successful if they were named Mike or Bob or Gary (but perhaps if they were named Pearly, Arm, or Seattle, respectively). Would you be a different person if you were named something else?
And enough with the meanings already - my name means "ever powerful, ever ruler," which I like, but I'm still not ruling anything. Most names mean something nice, or at least pleasant. Dispel the notion that you have to wait to 'meet' the baby before giving him or her a name - anyone who has been around a newborn knows that a) their adult personality has yet to emerge and b) they are all more or less the same for the first few days. Nothing about them is going to suggest a name, other than perhaps Crier, Poopie, or, if you're lucky, Sleepyhead.
Research has shown a correlation between name and socioeconomic status, but it tends to work in the opposite way from what I'm discussing (i.e. certain names are more popular with different socioeconomic classes). So go ahead and just pick a name. It's not going to change anything about who your child becomes. As long as you like the name (because you'll be saying it several thousand times a year) and it isn't easily made fun of (because any name will be made fun of, so you might as well make it challenging for the bullies), it's okay.
Which brings me to the exception - any reasonable name is okay. There may indeed be a negative impact on a kid's life if they have a profoundly weird name. Like "Ninja" or "Pumpkin" or "Thursday" (all from a bad-name poll on http://www.misterpoll.com/polls/237094). No "Apple"s or "Brooklyn"s. Please. And nothing difficult to pronounce, such as "Jakeriyonna" or "Deayahjanique". Be nice to your kid. Take into account your last name - so if your last name is "Tinkletop," avoid Timmy as a first name (from a bad-name blog, http://www.notwithoutmyhandbag.com/babynames/).
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Searching for Lost Answers
So . . . it's been a little more than a week since the series finale of Lost, and now seems as good a time as any to comment on it. It's not so much going to be about Lost itself as our search for answers and explanations in general.
This post will contain spoilers, but not for Lost (too soon). I'll mention plot points or endings of The Exorcist, Star Wars, the Sopranos, and a short student film I made in 1995. Because none of these are current and pretty much anyone who wants to see these already has, I have no guilt about giving things away. Even for the student film, although I'm sure there is an audience clamouring for an unspoiled screening.
There has already been a glut of commentary not only on the episode itself but the decision on the part of the writer-producers to not give answers to the myriad questions that arose during the show's run (see http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1936291 for a funny recap of these questions). As I wrote in my previous post, throughout the show I was concocting, reading, and propounding theories as to what was going on. Those in my circle who watched the show had to endure my insufferable theorizing (and for that I am grateful), but for me it was part of the overall experience of watching the show. In the end, a lot of this was unanswered, and surprisingly (to me), I didn't care. I enjoyed the series and the finale, thought the end was fitting, and was ok that a) a lot of what was included in the show ultimately didn't matter and b) what did matter was not explained.
In fact, I prefered what was not explained to what was. Midway through the last season the writers started providing 'answers,' and it was invariably disappointing, for two reasons. The first is that the manner in which these answers were presented was very direct and not good storytelling - they simply had a character provide an explanation for something. It was almost as if the writers were saying - hey, you want answers, ok, here's an answer, now stop bothering me.
The second reason the answers were disappointing is that they constrained the story. Lost is a fantasy/sci-fi series, and developed a rich mythology; to me, though, the mythology was richest in mystery and became pedestrian when explained. They gave a (half-assed) explanation for what made the island special, and it was profoundly underwhelming. I was fine with the explanation that 'the island is special' without further elaboration. It's like in the more recent Star Wars trilogy, where they explain that The Force exists because of tiny entities called midichlorians. This explanation is unnecessary (the Force can just be, without further explanation) and cheapens the concept. The specificity given to these otherworldly concepts reduces them.
It is the interpretation and thought that individuals put into shows and entertainments like these that matters. For example, the finale of the Sopranos was largely panned because it simply cut to black rather than wrap up what 'happened.' I have since come to believe that the ending represents Tony's sudden death by gunshot (thanks to an extremely lengthly post by TV critic Alan Sepinwall), but at the time I just thought, ok, we watched this character for a while and now we're not watching him anymore. Others thought it was a big eff-you from the creator of the show, or a coded message of some kind, or a joke. But the role of the writer is not to just provide answers, but rather make you think (in this case, about what the hell happened).
Second example: The Exorcist. The director William Friedkin has said that the ending, in which Father Damien offers himself as host for the demon/Devil and then kills himself by jumping out a window, was intended to be optimistic; though Damien dies, he saves Linda Blair (so she could go on to soft-porn, go figure) and defeats the Devil. He was surprised to learn that many people saw the ending as the Devil winning. His take is that people leave the film with what they bring in; if you are optimistic about the world, the ending is optimistic. If not, the ending is depressing.
Last example: a student film I made in 1995. I would like to claim it was a social experiment, but really it was an exercise in laziness that became a social experiment. Year two of film school focused on documentaries, a topic I had little interest in. At the time I had hundreds of photos and posters on the walls of my apartment (all having to do with movies, all cut from movie magazines) so I just filmed a few seconds of a bunch of different pictures. I then 'edited' the film by randomly putting clips together (in some cases really randomly - I cut bits of film, threw them in the air, and blindly spliced them together based on where they landed, a strategy that I stole from how a section of the background music in the Beatles' Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite was edited).
Up to this point, I had never really impressed my film profs (one film I made about spontaneous cannibalism entertained some of my fellow students, but that was about it) but this one wowed. They thought it was provacative, interesting, and lively. Prof and student alike had theory as to what the film meant, what the message was. The message really was that I couldn't be bothered to put effort into the assignment, but no one theorized this. They got something out of the film because they wanted to, because adding meaning is what we do. I suspect a lot of art is like this - the interpretation of the art reflects more about the audience than the artist.
(A side effect of this incident is that for the rest of second year I made all of my documentary projects in this style, more or less. The others were not nearly as well-received.)
Back to Lost - we add meaning because that is what we do. We expect that people (real and fictional) do things for a reason, that there is motivation behind action, and that there is a (knowable) cause to events. Within the world of Lost (or any fiction), this may be true; an author has onmiscience and can either make every action as the consequent of some thought or attitude, or can ascribe a cause by making one up. In the real world, this is not true. Things happen randomly and by accident (probably more than on purpose). But when we discuss fiction, the audience can add value to the art or entertainment by adding meaning, rather than waiting for meaning to be revealed. Because the revealed meaning will never be as satisfying as deriving one yourself.
It was the answers that were not given that were most satisfying in Lost. And I wish they hadn't provided some of the answers that they did, because I liked mine better.
This post will contain spoilers, but not for Lost (too soon). I'll mention plot points or endings of The Exorcist, Star Wars, the Sopranos, and a short student film I made in 1995. Because none of these are current and pretty much anyone who wants to see these already has, I have no guilt about giving things away. Even for the student film, although I'm sure there is an audience clamouring for an unspoiled screening.
There has already been a glut of commentary not only on the episode itself but the decision on the part of the writer-producers to not give answers to the myriad questions that arose during the show's run (see http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1936291 for a funny recap of these questions). As I wrote in my previous post, throughout the show I was concocting, reading, and propounding theories as to what was going on. Those in my circle who watched the show had to endure my insufferable theorizing (and for that I am grateful), but for me it was part of the overall experience of watching the show. In the end, a lot of this was unanswered, and surprisingly (to me), I didn't care. I enjoyed the series and the finale, thought the end was fitting, and was ok that a) a lot of what was included in the show ultimately didn't matter and b) what did matter was not explained.
In fact, I prefered what was not explained to what was. Midway through the last season the writers started providing 'answers,' and it was invariably disappointing, for two reasons. The first is that the manner in which these answers were presented was very direct and not good storytelling - they simply had a character provide an explanation for something. It was almost as if the writers were saying - hey, you want answers, ok, here's an answer, now stop bothering me.
The second reason the answers were disappointing is that they constrained the story. Lost is a fantasy/sci-fi series, and developed a rich mythology; to me, though, the mythology was richest in mystery and became pedestrian when explained. They gave a (half-assed) explanation for what made the island special, and it was profoundly underwhelming. I was fine with the explanation that 'the island is special' without further elaboration. It's like in the more recent Star Wars trilogy, where they explain that The Force exists because of tiny entities called midichlorians. This explanation is unnecessary (the Force can just be, without further explanation) and cheapens the concept. The specificity given to these otherworldly concepts reduces them.
It is the interpretation and thought that individuals put into shows and entertainments like these that matters. For example, the finale of the Sopranos was largely panned because it simply cut to black rather than wrap up what 'happened.' I have since come to believe that the ending represents Tony's sudden death by gunshot (thanks to an extremely lengthly post by TV critic Alan Sepinwall), but at the time I just thought, ok, we watched this character for a while and now we're not watching him anymore. Others thought it was a big eff-you from the creator of the show, or a coded message of some kind, or a joke. But the role of the writer is not to just provide answers, but rather make you think (in this case, about what the hell happened).
Second example: The Exorcist. The director William Friedkin has said that the ending, in which Father Damien offers himself as host for the demon/Devil and then kills himself by jumping out a window, was intended to be optimistic; though Damien dies, he saves Linda Blair (so she could go on to soft-porn, go figure) and defeats the Devil. He was surprised to learn that many people saw the ending as the Devil winning. His take is that people leave the film with what they bring in; if you are optimistic about the world, the ending is optimistic. If not, the ending is depressing.
Last example: a student film I made in 1995. I would like to claim it was a social experiment, but really it was an exercise in laziness that became a social experiment. Year two of film school focused on documentaries, a topic I had little interest in. At the time I had hundreds of photos and posters on the walls of my apartment (all having to do with movies, all cut from movie magazines) so I just filmed a few seconds of a bunch of different pictures. I then 'edited' the film by randomly putting clips together (in some cases really randomly - I cut bits of film, threw them in the air, and blindly spliced them together based on where they landed, a strategy that I stole from how a section of the background music in the Beatles' Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite was edited).
Up to this point, I had never really impressed my film profs (one film I made about spontaneous cannibalism entertained some of my fellow students, but that was about it) but this one wowed. They thought it was provacative, interesting, and lively. Prof and student alike had theory as to what the film meant, what the message was. The message really was that I couldn't be bothered to put effort into the assignment, but no one theorized this. They got something out of the film because they wanted to, because adding meaning is what we do. I suspect a lot of art is like this - the interpretation of the art reflects more about the audience than the artist.
(A side effect of this incident is that for the rest of second year I made all of my documentary projects in this style, more or less. The others were not nearly as well-received.)
Back to Lost - we add meaning because that is what we do. We expect that people (real and fictional) do things for a reason, that there is motivation behind action, and that there is a (knowable) cause to events. Within the world of Lost (or any fiction), this may be true; an author has onmiscience and can either make every action as the consequent of some thought or attitude, or can ascribe a cause by making one up. In the real world, this is not true. Things happen randomly and by accident (probably more than on purpose). But when we discuss fiction, the audience can add value to the art or entertainment by adding meaning, rather than waiting for meaning to be revealed. Because the revealed meaning will never be as satisfying as deriving one yourself.
It was the answers that were not given that were most satisfying in Lost. And I wish they hadn't provided some of the answers that they did, because I liked mine better.
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