Guest Post by Clément Canonne, PDF version
When I was a kid, my parents looked in control. Even when bad things
happened, they knew what to do, what to say, told us not to worry, did
the things adults do to make things work out, and things did work out.
Now that I am less of a kid, I realize that they were not (always) in
control. When bad things happened, they took responsibility to reclaim
agency. They put on an adult face, figured out what to say, told us not
to worry, and then silently did whatever they could so that things
worked out. They just did their best, and we did not know, and we did
not have to worry.
And now, for something completely different.
AI. We’re currently facing a rather obvious crisis, “what happens when a
self-proclaimed unstoppable force meets a historically very slow-moving
object.” I’m not going to detail what you probably all have witnessed
and seen evolve over what feels like an eternity and the blink of an
eye, but we need to reevaluate many things. Bad things are
happening. We are not in control. We do not really know what to
do. But, as Omer Reingold wrote so well, if you are a senior
academic or industry researcher, snap out of it:
“Contemplating the end of your profession from the relative comfort of
an established, tenured career is a privilege, and it comes with
responsibilities. Senior academics are not merely individual
researchers; we are stewards of our field, and we owe our junior
colleagues active leadership rather than abandonment.”
Perhaps more bluntly, and less eloquently than Omer put it: we “senior
academics” are supposed to be the adults. Complacency, doom-erism, and
generally navel-gazing, while tempting, are unacceptable,
counter-productive, and frankly unbecoming: we have a duty of care to
our students, mentees, our community.
We need to put on an adult face, figure out what to say to them, tell
them not to worry, and then silently do whatever we can so that things
work out for them.
—
That’s not to say we should lie! It is, again, about taking
responsibility, and coming up with a plan and solutions: letting others
know that we are here for them, and that they can count on us. So I’ll
outline some thoughts here about what to do now: mostly two. (1) We must
find out what we want to fight for and preserve. (2) One concrete action
to take.
What’s below is mostly targeted at “senior people,” but feel free to
read on if you are junior – Ph.D., postdoc, untenured faculty or (good
god!) born after The Dark Knight was released in theaters.
(1) We need to figure out what our values are, our justification, and we
need to do it yesterday.
—
So let’s all take a break from freaking out about the latest
longstanding conjecture whose resolution just appeared on the arXiv, and
think about what it means to be doing Theoretical Computer Science, what
our social mandate is, why we are doing what we are doing and why
society has been paying us (quite well, actually) to do so.
-
Is it to create knowledge, investigate fundamental questions for the
very sake of it?
-
Is is to disseminate knowledge, practical and/or abstract, to
society?
-
Is it to equip students, undergraduate and postgraduate, with a
specific set of skills, to view and navigate the world with a
computational mindset?
-
Is it to solve problems relevant to society and to industry, with
the bulk of our research being in some sense a “side quest” in
support of this goal?
-
…
-
Is it to keep us at arms’ length, and prevent a bunch of people with
an unhealthy knack for solving math puzzles from doing much worse
things, like building an underground lair or starting a financial
crisis?
Or is it something else entirely? Or a combination of all of the above?
We may all have slightly different views on this, and I don’t have
definite answers, but we should all be thinking about it (or, rather,
we should all already have been thinking about it). Thankfully, we
don’t have to start from nothing, because the giants whose shoulders we
are camping on did give it some thought, and still are (see,
[@AhoJKKMPP96], and the response [@GoldreichW96] for a start): but
we must, starting from there, form our own opinions, decide what our
values are, why we do what we do, and why society should give us a
license to do so. We won’t know what to do, can’t figure out what to
say, unless we know why we do what we do and what we stand for as a
community.
Putting my money where my mouth is, here are some of my own views.
-
We are meant to create knowledge, build theories, and new ways to
look at things This involves many different aspects, among which
“proving theorems” is at best the tip of the iceberg (unfortunately,
as for icebergs, this is also usually the only one people notice).
We should explore what “computation” means and could mean, driven
by curiosity, yes, but also because it reveals new understanding
which can shape the way we, and down the line many others, think. I
see the concept of reduction between problems and the shift in
thinking associated with it as one of the most beautiful and
influential contributions of TCS: one which not only influenced
(deeply) the theory of computation, algorithms, and complexity, but
also one we teach our students, and might change the lens through
which they view other aspects of their life.
-
We are not mathematically-inclined tech consultants. As
theoretical computer scientists, our reason d’être is not to solve
problems from or for industry, or to only worry about current or
near-future practical tasks they want to solve. This is not to
say we shouldn’t think about these problems as a source of
potentially interesting research questions. Interesting algorithmic
questions can come out of anywhere, and industry has often
happened to be a good source! But “you are not solving a
practical problem” is not a valid criticism of TCS, much like “you
are not building fridges” is not a damning indictment of
thermodynamics.
-
We are meant to create knowledge, but that means disseminating it.
The license society gives us for our curiosity-driven endeavours and
theory building comes with a price: we need to then explain this
knowledge, communicate and teach it to our peers, our research
community, our graduate students, and have it percolate through our
teaching for it to reach as many people as possible. Knowledge
creation without efforts towards exposition and dissemination is
just a self-centered endeavour, with no benefit to the research
community or society, and no place in academia.
And if you’re wondering where to have these discussions, and how to be
able to debate and exchange ideas in a fragmented world, I have good
news (or at least a suggestion): StackExchange! CSTheory.SE
(https://cstheory.stackexchange.com/) exists; it can be used; let’s
use it!
That was the first point. The second one, equally important: what can
we do to make things work for our students, postdocs, and the new
generation? Again, I don’t have answers, just one big suggestion:
let’s shield them during this chaotic transition.
(2) Look at whatever grant you have, or can apply for, put funding
together, call every possible philanthropist or funding body you can, be
creative: let’s offer as many 2-, 3-, 4-year fellowships, postdoc, or
early-career researchers positions as possible for juniors to weather
the storm.
—
Let me be clear: if you are tenured (or have a similarly stable
position), now is not the time for hand-wringing. But a 3-year postdoc
position which includes part-time teaching (assuming, as I do, that
great teaching and exposition will always be in demand) or some side
industry experience? This could make the difference between a promising
researcher leaving the field, or managing to make it through and adapt
to the changes our discipline is going through. A small endowment from
some startup or industry? This could tip the scales and provide
stability just for the few months a PhD student needs before landing a
job they want. So now is the time to try our very best, and, without
publicly lamenting the end of our field (or, worse, rejoicing in it), to
silently do whatever we can to so that things work out for the new
generation.
And of course, do take me up on it. I’ll be trying, too (if I don’t, you
know where to find me. There’s probably a very short flight from where
you are to Sydney, and my office is always open.)
