I originally said that “people claim,” because I really don’t know anyone who prefers the latter. Personally, I know that the quick rip is always better than the alternative, but I believe that this is probably related to excessive amounts of body hair, so much so (and I don’t mean to brag here) that I am considered to be the equivalent of Mel Gibson among certain species of apes.

But I digress.

I have been watching presidential addresses to joint sessions of Congress since the mid 60s, and the constant interruptions with standing ovations have always been annoying. They are most often done by rote—the president delivers a controversial line like “…and that’s why the United States is the best country in the world,” and the Speaker of the House and Vice President jump up out of their seats as if propelled by grenades. After a while, you get used to it and recognize that it is part of the kabuki dance that is American politics.

That said, I lost all patience for this show during the last administration. I suspect that some of it was that I rarely agreed with anything that guy said. But I came to realize that it was more than that. I wanted to end the ovationeering so that I wouldn’t have to listen to Bush mangle the language any more. Just like a bandage on a hirsute arm, I wanted him to rip off his 5,000-Word Jumble as quickly as possible. Each interruption simply postponed the time when my ears would stop bleeding.

Which brings us to Obama’s speech last night to a joint session of Congress. Obviously, there is no comparison between the styles of Bush and Obama. Leaving aside whether one agrees or disagrees with what’s being said, the quality of Obama’s speech writing and the ease of his delivery stands in stark contrast to what came before. The applausorupptions, however, were even more annoying. One might assume that if one wants to quickly dispose of pain, then the converse should be true, namely that one would want to draw out pleasurable stimuli. But clearly, this isn’t the case. I would actually like to hear what the man has to say in the natural flow of a speech, rather than the chopped up sound bites that get presented. Which is why reading the speech today was so much fun.

But now to the point of this post. I have written before about how it appeared that Obama “gets science” (see Barack on Track, Changeling). As many of you know, the stimulus package increases the budget for NIH by $10 billion and NSF by $3 billion (a 34% increase overall). That clearly shows his administration’s belief in science as one of the drivers of our economic future. As he said last night.

Thanks to our recovery plan, we will double this nation’s supply of renewable energy in the next three years. We’ve also made the largest investment in basic research funding in American history, an investment that will spur not only new discoveries in energy, but breakthroughs in medicine, in science and technology.

But is was these lines in last night’s speech that really sent me out of my chair in wild applause.

So tonight I ask every American to commit to at least one year or more of higher education or career training. This can be a community college or a four-year school, vocational training or an apprenticeship. But whatever the training may be, every American will need to get more than a high school diploma. And dropping out of high school is no longer an option. It’s not just quitting on yourself; it’s quitting on your country. And this country needs and values the talents of every American.

It is clear that he is placing a lot of weight on the shoulders of our institutions of higher learning. Large portions of the NIH and NSF budgets will be going to fund research at these places (hopefully, a small amount to my lab). He is also making it clear that he understands how important science and education are to the future of this country. And by calling out parents, students, and educators as he did, he is setting a clear tone of responsibility that is more than a little welcome. It is difficult to overstate how important it is to have a president that values science, education, and responsibility.

For those of you who point out that last night’s speech lacked specifics and was overambitious, let me say this about that: Nerts! I’m sorry to use such language, but it has to be said. The venue last night wasn’t the place for specifics, so hold off until you see what the administration’s budget contains. And if there is one word I’ve learned to hate over the years, it is “overambitious.” This is often used pejoratively in critiques of grant proposals, as if it is a crime to aim high. I want my president to aim high. The worst that will happen is that he comes up a bit short, but will accomplish quite a bit on his way to these lofty goals. That, my friends, is called leadership.

So it is now obvious that I have a man crush on the president. I used to think that everyone felt the same way, but then I saw this:

I’ve been fortunate enough to have a number of excellent mentors in my life. Today I want to talk about one of them: my graduate school advisor, Victor H. Denenberg, who passed away this weekend at the age of 83.

I first met Vic when I was in the process of applying to graduate schools. I was given the advice to apply to your home state school, and so I got ahold of the UCONN graduate school catalogue and started looking at the research interests of the faculty. At the time, there really wasn’t a field called “Neuroscience,” but I knew that I wanted a program that would combine the study of behavior with biology. I was also convinced that I would continue doing research on circadian rhythms as I had during the previous couple of years. Either I was a lot dumber that I remember, or I simply misread something, but I got the impression that this Denenberg fellow might be worth talking to.

So I wrote him a letter and arranged to come and visit the lab for an afternoon. I explained my goals for my graduate career and he patiently listened. He never out and out and said that I couldn’t do circadian rhythm research, so I took that as a positive sign. I met with the graduate students—some of whom were civil to me—and came away with a generally positive impression. When the time came to consider where I would matriculate, Denenberg’s lab seemed to be the place to be.

It didn’t take long me for me to become immersed in the research of the lab. In fact, the very first week, Vic himself taught me how to “handle” rat pups—a procedure whereby you individually isolate newborn rat pups from their mothers for 3 minutes daily. I didn’t realize it then, but that may have been the last time he actually worked with the rats. Our laboratory was a rather large unit that required strong collaborations among the graduate students, and Vic did a masterful job of managing everyone’s contributions and expectations. He was sometimes difficult and could be quite stern, but he was always fair.

From Vic I learned how to properly design experiments, how to properly review a manuscript, how to write a grant proposal, and the proper use of statistics. To call him a statistical savant isn’t quite fair because it implies that he knew nothing else, which is far from the truth. That said, his statistical mind was the most exceptional I have ever run across. I would never hesitate to contact him with questions concerning my analyses. Just last year we shared a long email discussion about a particularly tricky by of data, the analysis of which required his insight.

I once asked him how he got interested in statistics. He said “World War II.” He was an 19-year-old infantryman in France when he was shot in the thigh while climbing over a fence. Had he started his climb just half-a-second earlier he would have been hit in the head. The randomness of that act touched a place deep within him, and he was determined to find out more about putting order in randomness, which is what statistical analysis does.

As generous as Vic was with his time for his students, he could sometimes be less so when it came to money. He would often join us for drinks at the end of the week, and would never treat, and sometimes didn’t leave enough money to cover his own cocktail. About 10 years ago or so, a number of us were invited by Vic to go out for drinks at Trader Vic’s in DC. When the bill came, Vic made noises about how to split the bill. By prearrangment, none of us reached for our wallets. I said “Dig deep, Vic.” To his credit, he just smiled and whipped out his credit card.

I’ve gone on a little too long for a blog entry, and I didn’t even get to the famous Jello Party, so I’ll save that for another post sometime. For those of you that knew Vic, there are some nice remembrances being gathered by Holly Fitch at her lab site. For those of you who didn’t know Vic, just know that he was a brilliant scientist and exceptional teacher and mentor.

Computer graphics are changing many aspects of our lives. Perhaps the most obvious is in the entertainment industry. There are very few movies nowadays that don’t employ CGI, and there are almost depressing numbers of advertisements that do the same. What interests me, however, is how computer graphics will change the way we communicate and learn.

My friend, Tom West, wrote a book—In the Mind’s Eye— a number of years ago dealing with how “visual thinkers” will benefit from the increasing use of computer graphics and other forms of visual communication. His particular interest is dyslexia, and his contention is that in a world where words are increasingly replaced by images, dyslexics (many of whom are excellent visual thinkers) will be at a distinct advantage.

Before dealing with this hypothesis, it might be instructive to think about the evolution of the literate society. Although many take it for granted today that reading is essential for success, this obviously is a relatively recent change in western society. Until about 200 years ago, the average person did not need to know how to read. The skills that most people needed to survive (working in the trades, farming, etc.) arguably involved more visually-based skills. Once formal education became the norm, however, advancement at nearly all levels of society became dependent on the ability to read. As a consequence, a number of people who had difficulty learning to read following standard instruction were sometimes left behind.

So back to Tom’s book. I don’t know that I agree with all of Tom’s arguments. For example, I’m not convinced that visual and literate learning styles are mutually exclusive. Nor am I convinced that the percent of dyslexics that are conceptual visual thinkers are any greater than that of the general population. But that doesn’t change the fact that there are a significant number of people who are primarily visual processors. So if we are moving to time when increasing amounts of information are conveyed visually and conceptually, will that favor a different subset of individuals than have been favored for the past two centuries in western literate societies?

There is certainly truth to the adage that a picture can be worth a grand worth of words. I cringe when I am forced to sit through poorly designed PowerPoint slide shows that are heavy on the text, especially when well-considered graphical elements can reveal precise information in one glance. But it is hard to imagine a time when reading and text-based analyses will be obsolete. I will concede that it is possible that I, like so may of us left-brain-semi-literate-straight-ahead-no nonsense types, lack imagination. Yet it seems clear that there are certain types of data that will always be best communicated through text. Much in the same ways that both movies and books can each tell stories perfectly, there will always be room for both types of communication. What will most fascinating, however, is to see how far computer graphics can enable us to encroach into traditional text-based areas. And who among us will thrive with these new tools?

(And how bad is it that I didn’t use any graphics in this post at all?)