IEEE Spectrum March, 2007 - Cover4

REFLECTIONS
By Robert W. Lucky

I was attending a talk describing the
results of an important study. The
auditorium was large, dark, cold, and
sparsely populated. At the conclusion,
there was a call for questions, and as
usual there was a substantial pause
when it appeared that no questions
would be forthcoming. I was looking
forward to the warmth outside the
doors when the first hand went up.
More questions followed the first
one, and I noted with enough interest to write this column that the first
four questions all started with the
same four words: "Are you aware
of...?" In each case, these four words
were followed by obscure references
to work done in unfamiliar places
by people I didn't know. I had been
impressed with the study and with
the expertise of the speaker, but
after these questions, I wasn't so
sure any longer.
In my experience, this question
about awareness is among the most
common types of comment following a technical talk. The question
goes something like this: "Are you aware of the work on this
subject by Professor John Blutarsky at Faber College in 1962?"
Grammatically, this is a question calling for a simple yes or no
answer. In reality, it is not a question that calls for a yes or no
answer. In fact, I don't think that I have ever heard a speaker
simply say "No" and go on to the next question.
When you're the speaker and you hear this question, the
natural instinct is fear. You're standing without clothes in
front of a vast audience. You've never heard of Blutarsky, and
you didn't even know that there was a Faber College. But under
penalty of death, you can't just say no, that you've never heard
of this work. Your brain goes into search mode, looking for a
complicated way of evading the question without ever admitting to ignorance.
"Oh, yes, that Blutarsky," you say, playing for time. "It's been
some time since I studied his work, but I believe that his
assumptions were quite different, and we all know how much
technology has changed since then." You give a slightly dismissive chuckle and a small shrug of your shoulders, indicative of the irrelevance of this unknown work. Seeing the
frown on the face of the questioner, you turn your attention
quickly to other hands in the audience. Your answer meets
the test of plausible deniability-after all, you said that it

IEEE Spectrum | March 2007 | NA

has been some time since you saw
Blutarsky's work, you only referred
to your belief, rather than the fact
of its difference, and it is certainly
true that technology has changed.
You've covered yourself perfectly.
The person who asked the question is miffed. He never would have
asked the question if he hadn't been
sure that the speaker could not possibly have heard of Blutarsky's work.
He feels cheated out of the triumph
that he believes he deserved.
As far as the audience is concerned, however, the questioner
has scored. No one in the audience has ever heard of Blutarsky
either, but the immediate assumption is that whatever Blutarsky did,
it must have invalidated the work
of the speaker. Regardless of how
adroitly the speaker has answered
the question, the audience is left
with a lurking suspicion. There is
an uneasy stirring as people crane
their heads to view the questioner.
Who is this expert who is familiar
with Blutarsky, whose obviously important work the speaker
seems not to know?
Why do people ask such questions? I wonder. Many questions following technical talks seem intended more to show the
expertise of the questioner than to elicit information. This situation is such a normal part of our culture that we don't even
notice it's happening. The questions about whether a speaker is
aware of this or that work are a particularly flagrant case; the
object isn't just to highlight the questioner's knowledge but to
assert a knowledge that is superior to that of the speaker.
I'm sure that this instinct to showcase one's own expertise is human nature, but perhaps it is accentuated in engineering, where our culture is to raise innovation and individual
achievement to the highest level of accolade. The central question is sometimes not how good the solution is but who gets
the credit.
The next time you're in the audience at a technical talk, listen
to the questions critically. How many are real questions, and
how many are primarily in the category of "I'm a better engineer
than you"?
n
ROBERT W. LUCKY (IEEE Fellow), now retired, was vice president for applied
research at Telcordia Technology in Red Bank, N.J. (rlucky@telcordia.com).

www.spectrum.ieee.org

ARTHUR E. GIRON

Are You Aware?

http://www.spectrum.ieee.org

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of IEEE Spectrum March, 2007