July 19, 2014
Today was a typical Saturday of recent months. Inevitably, I followed the same pattern of; working late on Friday night, taking the car out to buy dinner; browsing through Netflix for a movie to watch while having a beer, failing to find one such movie or show that piques my interest, eventually browsing my own collection and watching something, sleeping, waking up earlier than I would have liked, completing the rest of the movie to which I had fallen asleep to, taking the car out to buy take out lunch from Little India Cafe, contentedly melting into a stupor of carbohydrate and meat induced coma, then waking up in the evening to mull over the fact that I had wasted another Saturday. Mind you, the fact that I had wasted another Saturday was not cause for great sadness or concern to me, it was... it just was.
It was then I took notice of the Asimov novel that I had bought from Leigh's favorite books on Murphy St about a month back. I had read the first section or two, but it had laid abandoned and unread on my bed for weeks thereafter, not because I had found the story unappealing, nor because I was too busy to read it (several wasted Saturdays and Sundays come to mind, not to mention weeknights), but perhaps because I have settled in to a routine that does not involve books of any kind, textbooks or otherwise.
Back in Bangalore in a big company, at least I had colleagues with whom I could discuss books that we had read recently. I guess being in a small company does have small and unexpected shortcomings (the work and the fun outweighs these small setbacks of course, in fact, I wouldn't have thought about this shortcoming if I weren't writing this... or perhaps that itself is something to think about). Nevertheless, I picked up the book where I had left off. And almost read the whole thing in one sitting. I have it now right next to me, just one more section to go. But I stopped in between to write this because, inexplicably, I wanted to revisit this long unattended canvas of my thoughts. It is interesting the things that had to happen to cause this inexplicable want (nothing is inexplicable remember? you just don't have enough data). But I am sure the recent documentary I watched called "Mortified nation", the book that I am reading, the work environment right now, all had some role to play.
I stopped midway in a section to muse over the nature of humanity (not surprising given what the story of Foundation deals with). But it is not about that I want to write about. I suddenly remembered the discussion I had with Alan, about how offsets in our sense amps were reduced when bias currents were increased. More than the techincal aspects of the discussion, what I was mulling over right now was the fact that I had fallen victim to something that I vehemently have fought to avoid all my academic life: rote learning, also known as parroting, spoon-feeding, word vomiting, exam learning etc. Come to think of it, I have always looked on people who cannot derive what they have learned from basic principles with more than a mild sprinkling of condescension. So I must not spare the rod on my self, right? In fact I should apply it all the more vigorously (also in tune with some masochistic qualities, but that's beside the point).
Why did I believe yesterday that increasing Vgs of a transistor reduces offset? Of course, there is precedent. I had used that very fact in all my comparators, sense amps, amplifiers whenever offset was an issue. Coupled with the long standing albeit opportunistically exercised philosophy of sticking to my believes, I argued the point with Alan. What scares me now, when I look back upon the discussion, was how absolute my conviction was. Even though Alan's counter arguments made logical sense to me, I did not start questioning my assumption until after two or three rounds of attempted justifications. In the end he was right, I was wrong. And I guess I can at least be mildly re-conciliated by the fact that I accepted that I was wrong with some grace, like a good scientist should (please note I use the word scientist in a very basic sense. I am no PhD, but I like to think that, since I use science or at least a tiny iota of it in my work, I am an adherent to the scientific principles).
So why was I wrong? Where did I make the mistake? At what point, could I have avoided making this mistake? What is clear is that I had fallen victim to the dangers of dogmatic believes. Believes that do not nurture the question of their origin. Yes it is true that for the same bias current, while designing a sense amp or amplifier, you can reduce offset by increasing Vgs at the cost of gain. And this is of course what I had used many times before, with results too. The danger it seems, is in using the fact so many times that you forget the conditions under which that fact remains true, in my particular case, the condition that was forgotten was that bias current has to remain the same. Like muscle memory for riding bicycles or swimming or running, my brain (and by extension human brains) seems to have a similar simplification for thoughts and ideas as well. By the time of the debate with Alan yesterday, the "fact" that increasing Vgs decreases offset had become muscle memory, rote-learned, ready to be parroted, and I had lost the ability to see the fact as true only under specific conditions. Rather, in my brain, it had become truth absolute, while in the rest of the universe, the real truth was, increasing Vgs without increasing bias current reduces offset.
I used to feel pity and condescension towards humans who stick to blind believes and never really counted myself among them. But this little incident and all the events including reading Foundation, got me thinking, am I starting to be easy prey for blind believes too? Or perhaps I have always been a victim, and didn't fully realize how susceptible I was until now. I do feel happy that I was able to understand and correct a false belief, as well as process its origins. But how many more lurk in that muddled mass of nerve cells that I have never seen or touched, but has forever been my, the individual's home? I can hope that I continue to be surrounded by people who question, for questions and incessant questions are the only way out of a false reality. I can take this incident as evidence of some addition to that elusive thing called wisdom, for I am now on better guard for another (unintentional) rote-learner. Me.
Today was a typical Saturday of recent months. Inevitably, I followed the same pattern of; working late on Friday night, taking the car out to buy dinner; browsing through Netflix for a movie to watch while having a beer, failing to find one such movie or show that piques my interest, eventually browsing my own collection and watching something, sleeping, waking up earlier than I would have liked, completing the rest of the movie to which I had fallen asleep to, taking the car out to buy take out lunch from Little India Cafe, contentedly melting into a stupor of carbohydrate and meat induced coma, then waking up in the evening to mull over the fact that I had wasted another Saturday. Mind you, the fact that I had wasted another Saturday was not cause for great sadness or concern to me, it was... it just was.
It was then I took notice of the Asimov novel that I had bought from Leigh's favorite books on Murphy St about a month back. I had read the first section or two, but it had laid abandoned and unread on my bed for weeks thereafter, not because I had found the story unappealing, nor because I was too busy to read it (several wasted Saturdays and Sundays come to mind, not to mention weeknights), but perhaps because I have settled in to a routine that does not involve books of any kind, textbooks or otherwise.
Back in Bangalore in a big company, at least I had colleagues with whom I could discuss books that we had read recently. I guess being in a small company does have small and unexpected shortcomings (the work and the fun outweighs these small setbacks of course, in fact, I wouldn't have thought about this shortcoming if I weren't writing this... or perhaps that itself is something to think about). Nevertheless, I picked up the book where I had left off. And almost read the whole thing in one sitting. I have it now right next to me, just one more section to go. But I stopped in between to write this because, inexplicably, I wanted to revisit this long unattended canvas of my thoughts. It is interesting the things that had to happen to cause this inexplicable want (nothing is inexplicable remember? you just don't have enough data). But I am sure the recent documentary I watched called "Mortified nation", the book that I am reading, the work environment right now, all had some role to play.
I stopped midway in a section to muse over the nature of humanity (not surprising given what the story of Foundation deals with). But it is not about that I want to write about. I suddenly remembered the discussion I had with Alan, about how offsets in our sense amps were reduced when bias currents were increased. More than the techincal aspects of the discussion, what I was mulling over right now was the fact that I had fallen victim to something that I vehemently have fought to avoid all my academic life: rote learning, also known as parroting, spoon-feeding, word vomiting, exam learning etc. Come to think of it, I have always looked on people who cannot derive what they have learned from basic principles with more than a mild sprinkling of condescension. So I must not spare the rod on my self, right? In fact I should apply it all the more vigorously (also in tune with some masochistic qualities, but that's beside the point).
Why did I believe yesterday that increasing Vgs of a transistor reduces offset? Of course, there is precedent. I had used that very fact in all my comparators, sense amps, amplifiers whenever offset was an issue. Coupled with the long standing albeit opportunistically exercised philosophy of sticking to my believes, I argued the point with Alan. What scares me now, when I look back upon the discussion, was how absolute my conviction was. Even though Alan's counter arguments made logical sense to me, I did not start questioning my assumption until after two or three rounds of attempted justifications. In the end he was right, I was wrong. And I guess I can at least be mildly re-conciliated by the fact that I accepted that I was wrong with some grace, like a good scientist should (please note I use the word scientist in a very basic sense. I am no PhD, but I like to think that, since I use science or at least a tiny iota of it in my work, I am an adherent to the scientific principles).
So why was I wrong? Where did I make the mistake? At what point, could I have avoided making this mistake? What is clear is that I had fallen victim to the dangers of dogmatic believes. Believes that do not nurture the question of their origin. Yes it is true that for the same bias current, while designing a sense amp or amplifier, you can reduce offset by increasing Vgs at the cost of gain. And this is of course what I had used many times before, with results too. The danger it seems, is in using the fact so many times that you forget the conditions under which that fact remains true, in my particular case, the condition that was forgotten was that bias current has to remain the same. Like muscle memory for riding bicycles or swimming or running, my brain (and by extension human brains) seems to have a similar simplification for thoughts and ideas as well. By the time of the debate with Alan yesterday, the "fact" that increasing Vgs decreases offset had become muscle memory, rote-learned, ready to be parroted, and I had lost the ability to see the fact as true only under specific conditions. Rather, in my brain, it had become truth absolute, while in the rest of the universe, the real truth was, increasing Vgs without increasing bias current reduces offset.
I used to feel pity and condescension towards humans who stick to blind believes and never really counted myself among them. But this little incident and all the events including reading Foundation, got me thinking, am I starting to be easy prey for blind believes too? Or perhaps I have always been a victim, and didn't fully realize how susceptible I was until now. I do feel happy that I was able to understand and correct a false belief, as well as process its origins. But how many more lurk in that muddled mass of nerve cells that I have never seen or touched, but has forever been my, the individual's home? I can hope that I continue to be surrounded by people who question, for questions and incessant questions are the only way out of a false reality. I can take this incident as evidence of some addition to that elusive thing called wisdom, for I am now on better guard for another (unintentional) rote-learner. Me.
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