Thursday, April 9, 2009

Crawling Under the Table

In class today, the professor asked what we thought about one particular paper that I found particularly troubling. As my classmates offered perspectives on one aspect of the paper or another, I felt the anger I experienced on the initial reading of the paper once again building. Finally, I couldn't restrain myself. I exploded.

"This paper is crap. The author's approach is worthless, and he demonstrates academic dishonesty in his selective use of material from the papers he cites. The fact that this paper is so influential calls into question the integrity of the researchers who rely on it. Further, I googled this guy and was infuriated to see he is employed by the Hoover Institute. I can't believe he is getting paid to produce this stuff by such an esteemed institution."

The professor responded, "In the interest of full disclosure, I was the academic researcher on this paper. I can tell you that the errors you cite were unintentional." Uh-oh. "Further, the author is actually a very nice man." I had stepped in it big time. But I couldn't retreat. I said, "He may be, but I disagree with the methodology used for this paper." She replied that she could understand that.

I wanted to crawl under the table. I certainly don't think my professor was academically dishonest. And I would never want to publicly embarrass anyone. Yet, this school prides itself on academic rigor, the life of the mind, and vigorous debate. Had I crossed over the line, though?

I have agonized over this all day. I feel bad for the dramatics surrounding my diatribe - but I don't regret what I said. The paper still infuriates me. The fact that my professor helped write it doesn't make me view it in a different light. I don't agree with the methodology. I do think it is crap - although maybe that is the one word I would change. I do get angry when supposed experts are rewarded for shoddy research or misrepresentation in order to advocate for a position.

That does not mean the guy was dishonest. He may really believe his approach is valid. He may also have made honest mistakes in assembling the data. The fact remains that as a result of his paper, there have been very bad outcomes, from my point of view, in the education field. He probably is a really nice guy. Whose bad research led to bad outcomes.

I still disagree with his paper. Next time, though, I will temper my comments. From under the table.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Going to the Chapel

I recently threatened - there is no nicer word - to withhold funding from my daughter if she moved forward with her plan to get her nose pierced. My wife pushed back. She is resistant to using a financial cudgel to coerce behavior from our children. But as they get older, the levers available to pull to incent appropriate behavior are diminishing.

So I have floated the question to both my coworkers and classmates as to whether a father's financial obligation to his son ends with the son's marriage. Opinions, as you would expect, are mixed, but most feel that yes, financial obligations end once children take on adult responsibilities.

I am very happy for my son and his fiancee. They will have a rich life together. They are both smart, motivated, hard working. I worry about them in this economic climate, as they make their way in the world. I will help them out as much as I can, but also feel that marriage means one takes on the responsibility for supporting one's own family.

My wife will probably countermand me. She will want to support them, take them in, help them get their lives together launched successfully. We will clash on the meaning of independence, on the responsibilities early marriage imposes upon the couple. I will insist that if they are making this choice, they need to live with the consequences. I look forward to the debates.

Maybe he will surprise me with his plan. Maybe he has it all figured out. It wouldn't surprise me, as both he and his fiancee are pretty resourceful. Or maybe they are just starstruck, captivated by the thought of spending the rest of their lives together. We'll see.