Tag Archives: education

Out of the Archives – Calculators, Computers….and Stuff

sinclair scientific calculator
Sinclair Scientific Calculator (Photo:Tim Jones)

This picture of a Sinclair Scientific is the latest recovered image from the 30 year  archive of negatives I’m dutifully working through.

The reflections in this post are also prompted by this recent post on Andrew Maynard’s blog, (2020science), describing the sophisticated graphing calculator his children are required to have for school.

A pass-me-down from my brother, the Sinclair Scientific was my first electronic calculator.   Built from a kit in 1975, I used it to prep for the UK O-Levels when I was 14 or 15; in the O-Level exams themselves we only had log tables :-P.  By the A-Levels (16-18), I’d upgraded to a Casio fx-39.

John Napier, father of logarithms (Image: Wikicommons)

As it turns out, the calculator my nephews require for today’s GCSE syllabus is a Casio; but  costing around £5, against the £75 or so for Andrew’s Texas Instruments machine.

An interesting feature of the Sinclair Scientific was its use of Reverse Polish Notation (RPN): an unusual but logical way to express calculations. Under RPN, the operator (+,- x, / etc) comes after the operands (the numbers); so the more well known Infix representation of 7+8 , in RPN becomes 7 8 +.  RPN is more memory efficient for computers – a bigger deal once than it is now.  Today, modern computers just translate into RPN without us seeing it.

You might think getting to grips with RPN was an awkward distraction for a 15 year old, but it proved handy background when it came to writing programs for this:

Stantec Zebra
Stantec Zebra (Photo from the Stantec Zebra manual)

I guess this was our graphing calculator.  Not exactly pocket size.

If memory serves, my school, named the ‘The Gateway’, acquired the 1958 Stantec Zebra from the local university; before that it was with the Post Office.

punch card
Punch card

A small team of students operated and maintained the machine which, filled with hot valves, would frequently catch fire and give the occasional electric shock.   This could never happen today of course, on safety grounds alone.  But at the time, the teachers and students took it all in their stride, seizing the opportunity to build a short extra-curricular programming course into the timetable.

Programming lessons involved: writing code on cards with pencil and paper, encryption onto punched cards that the Stantec Zebra could read optically, then receiving line-printer output of the results.  Looking back, it’s amazing any of this happened – a great opportunistic use of a rare resource.

Powertran Comp 80 (Photo:Tim Jones)

Pupils who later built their own computers, like the Science of Cambridge MK14, a basic kit machine launched in 1977 with about 2k of memory, or the Sinclair ZX-80, were doubtless inspired by the presence on site of their valve-driven (but still significantly more powerful) ancestor.

An interest in computers in this era meant just that: an interest in the information structure, solution algorithms, programming and hardware.  High level programming languages, like BASIC even, were too memory inefficient to exist, and ‘games’ typically comprised simple models around the laws of motion; moon lander simulations were popular.

Our household variously hosted a home-built Powertran Comp 80, a Sharp MZ-80A (including some early green dot graphical capability), a Sinclair Spectrum and Sinclair QL.  I’ve put pics of these and various other devices I’ve owned in the gallery at the end of the post – minus the obvious PCs that started with a Viglen P90 in 1995.  Also our Creed 75 teleprinter – the only one I’ve seen outside the London Science Museum, this true electro-mechanical wonder was brought to good working order save for the chassis occasionally running live with mains voltage.

Creed 75
The Science Museum’s Creed 75

Are there any world-changing messages to be drawn from all this nostalgia?  Possibly not.  But I’m reminded how very hands on we were in just about everything.   And that’s relevant given the buzz today about how kids might not be getting enough practical science and engineering experience in schools (I’m thinking of comments most recently made by Martin Rees in the Reith Lectures).

No one is arguing kids need a nuts and bolts knowledge of all modern gadgetry, but I do think off-syllabus projects like the Stantec Zebra (but perhaps less dangerous) are a good thing in schools.  They show how diverse academic subjects come together in an application, making the theory real.  This is pretty much my mantra in this earlier post about the Young Scientists of the Year competition.   I would have thought such projects give a school a sense of identity and foster a bit of team spirit?

But it’s really an area I’m out of touch with.  Does this type of stuff happen in lunchtime science clubs?  Is there time in the curriculum?  Do teachers have the time and/or skills?  Or has our health & safety culture, however worthy, killed off anything interesting?

 

Also of interest

Kids Today Need a License to Tinker (Guardian 28/8/2011)

Dumb Dee Dumb Dee Dumb

Okay – in September I made this little joke about the dumbing down of education standards in the UK; a tension reliever from the continuous and often anecdotal murmur around grade stats going up while exam difficulty goes down.

But the issue is dead serious, as we are reminded today by the Royal Society of Chemistry‘s publication: A wake-up call for science education?

The report describes what happened recently when 1,300 of the nation’s brighter 16 year olds were tested on chemistry exam questions taken from over the last 50 years. The selected questions were of the more mathematical type that test a pupil’s ability to analyse and understand the fundamentals (I think the word ‘hard’ has become politically incorrect), as these are the more useful skills critics say have been fogged out in contemporary tests weighted towards memory.

The report is here, but in a nutshell: the authors say there has been a real and significant reduction in the difficulty of numerical or analytical type questions moving from the 1980’s to the 1990’s, which corresponds to a change in the exam system. UK readers will recognise this transition as the move from a combination of O-Levels (for the ‘brighter’ kids) and CSEs (for the others) to the single GCSE system. Things have stabilised a bit since the transition but, as the authors observe, there are fewer of the analytical type question in the new regime.

What’s more, the average test score on these more analytical questions was only 25%, causing the RSC to call for an urgent increase in this type of question in today’s papers.

Consistent with the authors’ thesis, pupils did least well on multi-step maths oriented problems where there was no prompting of what to do next. Even problems requiring basic maths presented difficulties. Part of the explanation -although its arguably nothing to be proud of – is that some of the more complex content is no longer taught at this level.

In a double whammy that will have the sociologists wetting themselves: the study found that pupils from independent schools (that means private, where typically middle class professional parents pay for their kids’ education ) did significantly better than the state educated pupils; also that boys did better than girls on the hard maths problems. The independent school result is put down in part to the tendency for these schools to teach science as separate subjects – physics, chemistry, biology – and to them having more specialised science teachers (of which there is a chronic national shortage). The authors consider the gender result ‘unusual’.

The final conclusion was that the current system doesn’t recognise the most exceptional students with a wider knowledge of the subject. I think that reflects a tendency to ask only questions the routine solution for which has been taught. Essentially, we have gone from a situation where the teacher gave you a knife with instructions how to carve, to one where the standard tool is a pastry cutter.

What the government will make of this latest grenade lobbed into the mire of UK education policy, we will have to wait and see.

The mainstream press on this story:

from The Independent

from The Guardian

from The Times

from The Telegraph

Also interesting:

This at Amused Cynicism.

And in Telegraph, June 14 2011, this on ‘Pupils Should Study Maths to 18

Domestic Science – Not

I’m not the first to ask why science has become less popular with school children and young people. It’s a fact, at least in the UK and the USA, that fewer students are selecting science subjects at school or making a college or professional career out of science.

While there are doubtless many complex reasons behind the decline, some of today’s thinkers put at least part of the blame on the reduction in first hand experience and active personal experimentation in science that young people engage in.

And could something as apparently innocent as the emasculation of the home chemistry set, or the retreat by schools from the more spectacular classroom science demonstrations, be a contributing cause?

While I’ve been musing over my own formative influences, which I put down to: inherent curiosity, parental support, inspiring teachers, a home culture of learning and DIY (do-it-yourself), and relatively unhindered experimentation; my latest reading is a warning of what can happen when home grown science goes too far.

David Hahn was an adolescent Boy Scout from Michigan when he built an operational model nuclear reactor in his parents’ garden shed. His improbable but true story is told by Ken Silverstein in The Radioactive Boyscout: The True Story of a Boy Who Built a Nuclear Reactor in His Shed.

Silverstein describes Hahn’s obsession with nuclear power and radioactivity, culminating in his own nuclear pile. It’s a frightening and fascinating study in single-minded ingenuity; the ultimate expression of ‘string and elastic bands’ resourcefulness. But it’s also a sad tale of misguided talent and lost opportunity, with Hahn’s informal career in science never blossoming beyond the confines of his backyard. I’ve just finished this book from 2004 – another volume from my latest ‘3 for £5’ trawl – and can heartily recommend it. It’s a good adult read, plus you won’t find a more mischievous gift for any young person with a maturing interest in home science experiments.

Hahn’s own inspiration was the doubly infamous Golden Book of Chemistry Experiments, a product of 1950s/60s US techno-optimism that was subsequently banned from most US libraries. Certainly, some of the children’s experiments described within its colourful covers are way beyond anything that today we would consider safe – for the child or the publisher.

There is of course nothing new under the sun, and, despite the recent plethora of mimic Victoriana ‘thing-to-do’ books, titled ‘The Dangerous Books for Boys, Girls,…Whatever’, nothing compares with the original bane of the enlightened Victorian parent – ‘The Young Man’s Book Of Amusement‘. Packed with all sorts of nonsense, ranging from

the harmless to the downright suicidal, my favourite wheeze from this 1850’s bible of curiosity is the Artificial Volcano. The experimental procedure, which results in a runaway exothermic reaction of iron filings and sulphur, specifies minimum quantities of both reactants such that, in the spirit of all good compost heap construction, a critical and sustaining thermal mass is achieved – in this case 28lbs of each. The 56lb of damp mixture is buried two feet below the ground, and left to do its stuff. Never having got up the nerve or the resources to try this, on any scale, I can only imagine the combined impact on the senses of vigourous suphur dioxide production, rivers of molten sulphur, showers of burning iron particles, all escaping through an earth bulging under the pressure of a man-made magma chamber. Environmentally friendly – not. Politically correct – not. Fun, thought provoking, and inspiring….? For more excerpts from this cheery manual visit Lateralscience (but don’t fall for the apochryphal stories surrounding the text – which is real).

I’m not endorsing the building of volcanoes or nuclear piles, in our back gardens or anywhere else, but we should consider what has happened over the last thirty or forty years with regard to our freedoms and restrictions in the home-science department. Are we to be trusted with only baking soda and citric acid? – apparently so.

I’ll wind up with a taste of how some of the ‘today’s thinkers’ I referred to earlier feel about the subject of scientific inspiration and freedom for self-experimentation. “Hands-on experience and experiments” was one of the ten categories highlighted by respondents to a 2006 study by the Spiked team who, working with Pfizer, asked some well-known scientists/thinkers (including Simon Singh whom I had the unexpected pleasure of meeting recently) – ‘”What inspired you to take up science?’” Many respondents emphasised the importance during their formative years of being able to do their own independent testing, experimentation, and indeed – risk taking. Here is the complete summary of responses.

Reverend Reiss Causes Stir At Science Festival

Two real hoo-hahs have gone down in the world of UK science this week. At the British Association Festival of Science in Liverpool, the Director of Education at the Royal Society, Rev.Prof.Michael Reiss, appeared to support at least some discussion of creationism in school science classes. At the same festival, embryologist and TV science star Robert Winston stirred up journalists and festies alike with further criticism of what he sees as the irresponsible behaviour of the super-atheist clan (Dawkins, Harris, Hitchens et al). This post relates to the Reiss storm; here is a podcast featuring Reiss that accompanied his entry on the Guardian Science Blog on 11th September, and Reiss’s pre-presentation press brief from the BA.

Compatible?

Reiss’s comments are surprising and, given his position and the ammunition he is handing to less moderate interests, politically puzzling. The arguments for and against debate of non-scientific, non-evidence-based, and logic-deficient world views in school science classes have been done to death (the comments on Reiss’s statement on the Guardian Science Blog say it all).

My personal stance is that it is important in schools to explicitly state what science is not, as well as what it is. Science is not a methodology for analysing non-evidence-based beliefs, which includes most religious beliefs as self defined. It is a separate issue if a student wants to argue a religion is evidence based; that’s a good discussion topic for the religious studies class. There would be less angst all round if boundaries, rules, and definitions were more clearly defined in this way.

It is the duty of the educational authority (in the broadest sense of the term, but here including Michael Reiss) to agree the ground rules, and to instruct and enable teachers to relay them to children at the start of term. It boils down to making sure kids know up front what science is and what it is not.

There are two reasons this has not happened. First, the authority setting the rules is itself confused over what science is; and second, there is political comfort in maintaining that ambiguity in an atmosphere where the setting of any boundary is seen as an implied attack on anything lying outside it. The first weakness may be countered with a relentless appeal to reason, defense of the scientific method, and political lobby. The second requires political courage from our leaders, faced with the inescapable truth that the intellectually honest position, without vindictive or malicious intent, will be painful to some.

Related Articles on the Present Topic

Royal Society Press Release

Steve Connor and Archie Bland at the Independent

Robin McKie at the Guardian and again here

Rod Liddle at the Times

Tom Whipple at the Times 18/9

Association of Teachers and Lecturers

Other Articles

Guardian interview with Reiss in 2006

Young Scientists, Fingerprints, and PVC

Alright class, settle down. Hands up all those who remember the original Young Scientists of the Year competition? I’m talking about the weekly BBC1 television reportage, between 1972 and 1981, of the bloody battles for scientific supremacy waged between competing UK schools. This was prime time science on the telly, presented by Paddy Feeny and John Tidmarsh, with the enthusiastic participation of judges Sir George Porter, Prof. Heinz Wolff (pictured), Dr Colin Blakemore, Prof Eric Ash, Prof Aubrey Manning and Dr Donald Broadbent.
Gateway Young Scientists with Heinz Wolf
Gateway Young Scientists with Prof. Heinz Wolff

This post is something of a reminisce for me – because – I was there; albeit as an attendee, not a competitor, at Leicester’s Gateway Grammar School. Although too young to participate, I saw the effect the show had on the school, its pupils, and the viewing public.

So, beyond the nostalgia, can we learn something from the Young Scientists phenomenon?

Gateway's winning Fingerprint Analyser
Gateway's winning Fingerprint Analyser

The show’s origins trace back to the formation in 1963 of the Science and Features Department of the BBC: the group that gave us Tomorrow’s World, the Royal Institution Christmas Lectures, and the iconic productions of Jonathan Miller, Jacob Bronowski and David Attenborough. The team also produced Heinz Wolff’s next project after Young ScientistsThe Great Egg Race.

Production entailed a combination of material filmed at the participants’ schools, cut with Q&A sequences from the studio. During the judging, contestants sat nervously with their rigs as backdrop.

My school participated twice. A project on PVC reached but floundered in the final, while an invention that automatically scanned fingerprints won in the UK final and the competition’s European equivalent, hosted by Phillips in Eindhoven. The self-effacing commentary of the PVC team, reproduced from the School Magazine, reveals the production pressures, and gives an honest insight into how laboratory science really works when delivering breakthroughs to order.

We had won the heat largely on the technical achievement of building the machine and so we made it our policy to concentrate on doing some research with it rather than make modifications to improve its working. With reactions taking up to eight hours and only a few weeks to go before the recording of the final, we had to start working late again and on occasions were still at school at about 2 a.m. During this time we managed to produce two polymers, B.S.R. and P.E.O. but with the limit on our time we were able to complete only a preliminary investigation into these polymers. From these results we managed to draw a few vague conclusions and plan our future research. Armed with this we went to Birmingham for the recording of the final. We were not so apprehensive about what would happen this time as we had the experience of our first visit behind us. As expected, the procedure was much the same as before and we approached the day for judging and filming in a much calmer state of mind than on the first occasion. However, as soon as the first judge, Sir George Porter, began to question us we began to realise that all was not going well. He continually probed us about details of the process which we had only just begun to study. Because of the short period of time which was available to us between heat and final we had not been able to familiarise ourselves with all aspects of the chemistry of the process. Consequently our answers to our questions were rather vague and lacking in the detail that he seemed to want.

The 'Competition'  -  Hiss!  Boo!
The 'competition' - Hiss! Boo!

The series ran for nine years on BBC1. Why so successful? The popularity, I suggest, was partly due to the show’s tangible competitiveness – the ‘tune in again next week’ factor. The content itself was made accessible through the pupils’ explanations and chatty atmosphere of the studio. By raising the status of school science and ordinary pupils, there may even have been some flattery of parents by association.

Were there deeper benefits beyond entertainment value?  Who knows how many fifteen year olds were swayed to science A-Levels by an inspiring episode of Young Scientists?  I believe the participant schools were strengthened by the experience, and others motivated to reach the grade. Involvement would encourage higher quality teacher and pupil applicants to the school, and raise the school’s status with universities and employers. For those directly involved, the show was a springboard.

Could the formula be repeated?  Was Young Scientists simply ‘of its time’ – never to be repeated?  Promotion of school science is now more important than ever.  Science competitions for young people still exist, but do they afford science the public exposure, status, and continuity offered by Young Scientists. Critics might say the format wreaked of elitism (the Grammar to Comprehensive school ratio would be interesting). Do schools have the time now? Would staff be motivated and willing? What about health and safety; PVC manufacture at 2 a.m.?

Despite the obstacles, the goal of broadcasting innovative school science – on prime time national television – with our greatest scientists in attendance – is a noble aspiration.

Could the UK public again be enticed to watch school kids do science? I like to think so.

Fine Words

In dusting down an old review magazine from my former school, I couldn’t help but notice a similarity, in tone and content, between the mission statement from one of the more formatively influential past headmasters, and some of my favourite lines from Thomas Huxley. As to which of these inspired me the most, or whether the ethos of the one led to a later empathy with the other – I cannot say. Both statements follow. In each case you will have to forgive the sexism; Huxley was a man of the Victorian Age, and Frazer was the headmaster of what was at the time an all boys school. Anyhow, not much evidence for ‘two cultures’ here. Both are worthy sentiments – enjoy !

Huxley first….

Thomas Huxley
Thomas Huxley

“That man, I think, has had a liberal education who has been so trained in youth that his body is the ready servant of his will, and does with ease and pleasure all the work that, as a mechanism, it is capable of; whose intellect is a cold, clear, logic engine, with all its parts of equal strength, and in smooth working order; ready like a steam engine, to be turned to any kind of work, and spin the gosamers as well as forge the anchors of the mind; whose mind is stored with knowledge of the great and fundamental truths of Nature, and of the laws of her operations; and who, no stunted ascetic, is full of life and fire, but whose passions are trained to come to heel by a vigorous will, the servant of a tender conscience; who has learned to love all beauty, whether of nature or of art, to hate all vileness, and to respect others as himself.”

Thomas Henry Huxley

Dr H.Frazer
Dr H.Frazer

“A school in the twentieth century must try to educate the hands and senses as well as the mind; it will do each separate task the better for attempting all three. It will teach its pupil to create as well as to criticise, by giving him the chance to create in a variety of ways, so that he can find his own particular medium while to some extent sharing the experience of artists and craftsmen of all kinds. It will teach him to find out for himself, as well as to absorb the findings of others. It will try to produce men who may earn a living as scholars or scientists or technologists or craftsmen or artists, but who are to a varying extent all of these at once, and gentlemen too. Thus only can we produce the all-round men we need if the next age is to be one of high civilisation as well as of great prosperity.”

Dr H. Frazer

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