Jordan Suchow

I've always wanted to exit the classroom at that point and never come back in (it's the last day of class, anyways), but my wife says that this whole performance thing is already weird enough and that I shouldn't push my luck. Maybe one day I'll have the guts.

fin.

The play ends with a dramatic change in narrator (sort of, you'll just need to read it to see what I mean), who walks of the stage to go revisit a clinic that's been discussed throughout.

4/x

But more than that, it gives the students a chance to think through a topic right on the cusp of what mathematical models of cognition can usefully represent — the aspect of consciousness that you might call a personal sense of place: that you are *here*, and not *there*.

3/x

"Where am I?" is in essence a one-act play. It gives me a chance to practice some of those long-lost stage acting skills I developed in late elementary school, where I got many lead roles mostly because I could read well and thus had an advantage in memorizing the scripts.

2/x

Daniel Dennett: 'Where Am I?' Dennett's classic story raises deep philosophical questions about identity and consciousness.

I teach an undergraduate course on judgment and decision making, where we focus on mathematical models of cognition — some simple, some complex.

I like to end the class with a performance of Dan Dennett's "Where am I?" (
https://thereader.mitpress.mit.edu/daniel-dennett-where-am-i/).

1/x

Ever read a news article about an NSF-funded nutritional epidemiology project and wondered why the supplement certification organization was creating complicated conflicts of interest for third-party testing of products by funding nutrition research? Wrong NSF.

fin.

Ever peed in a urinal and wondered which NSF-funded project was responsible for the toilet's design? Wrong NSF.

4/x

The second NSF is NSF International (https://www.nsf.org/certification), a US-headquartered international organization that tests and certifies products like supplements (e.g., for banned substances in the context of sports).

3/x

The first NSF is the National Science Foundation (https://www.nsf.gov/), a part of the US federal government that funds research in science and engineering.

2/x

Today I learned that there are two NSFs.

1/x

As for me, I'm hoping that Stevens will adopt this tradition for tenure decisions, but haven't yet had much luck.

fin.

I am happy to report that Necdet won on unanimous decision, and is now an assistant professor of information systems at University of Missouri — St. Louis.

9/x

And so, on that fateful day, we went to sparring night at my boxing gym, Gloveworx, and did a round. See photo evidence attached.

8/x

Choosing a combat sport also has this lovely quality of mutually assured destruction: if he knocks me out, the his dissertation chair (that's me) might be unable to attend the defense and he'd automatically fail. Whereas if I knock him out, I'll get a very sad call from HR.

7/x

I think it was a good strategic choice on his part, strong evidence of his growing maturity as a scholar: he has maybe 10 inches and 40 pounds on me, and I (but not him) had zero previous sparring experience.

6/x

Last spring, it was Necdet Gürkan's turn to defend. He challenged me to a round of boxing. He knew I had been taking boxing classes for about a year, and he himself had been taking Muy Thai classes for several years.

5/x

FAQ: The “Snake Fight” Portion of Your Thesis Defense Q: Do I have to kill the snake? A: University guidelines state that you have to “defeat” the snake. There are many ways to accomplish this. Lots o...

In my lab, inspired by the McSweeney's snake fight piece (https://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/faq-the-snake-fight-portion-of-your-thesis-defense), we started a new tradition: to gain my positive vote on the defense, the candidate must defeat me in a game or sport of the candidate's choosing.

4/x

In the lab where I completed mine, for example, each graduate signs a champagne bottle that's put up on a shelf for everyone to see.

At UC Berkeley psych., the graduates have no formal defense and get a lollipop from the department admin's desk.

3/x

In many universities, there are unique traditions associated with defending the Ph.D. dissertation.

2/x

A student challenged me to a duel.

1/x

That there may be past goals or dreams we have given up on prematurely, opportunities that we may have written off as missed, but are still there for the taking.

Or, put differently, "The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now."

fin.

But there's another part of me that wants to be inspired by quotes like these and so forces myself to reread it charitably, perhaps through a mental rewrite that changes the "never" to a "not always". It's a part of me that allows myself to actually take in its message:

4/x

Do doors really never close? Is there no such thing as an opportunity cost? Is every decision really reversible? No. We all make decisions that irreversibly shut off certain paths that our lives might have taken.

3/x

I sometimes minorly regret that my training as a scientist seems to have put me in what you might call "default skeptic" mode: rather than finding quotes like these inspirational, I immediately try to find a counterexample that topples it.

2/x

I came across this saying in the bathroom of a exercise studio where I was taking a class:

"It is never too late to be what you might have been."

1/x

I've been pretty quiet on social media for the past few years, participating more on the consumption side of media than on the production side. In 2025, my goal is to shift the ratio 1000-fold in the direction of production. So, expect to see a lot more from me here. Stay tuned…

It’s also part of why seeing old friends or family is so rewarding, w/r/t their providing just the right context and cues to trigger a blast from the past — a memory we’re surprised to have been able to retrieve and that would have otherwise remained dormant, perhaps indefinitely.

Friends, I think I’ve spotted what must be $1 billion of art bananas. (See https://buff.ly/4idykDZ for an explanation of the reference.)

This morning my 4-year-old, brimming with righteous indignation, calls me Mr. Poopy Pants for the first time. Hurt to the core, I reply, “Come on. Show some respect. That’s Professor Poopy Pants.”