How Bird Brain was Hatched

Any visit of Jeff Pulver to Israel is in itself a reason to celebrate. And we do. Here at Afeka College, my new ‘home’, we have a special relationship with Jeff, as he is the first international member of the Board of Governors of the College.

Earlier this year, we hosted Jeff’s 140 Conference here, and when we found out that he would be here for Purim, we (Sharon Ariel and I) rushed to organize one of Jeff’s networking breakfasts.But we figured that it would be a shame to have hundreds of interesting and creative people here just for an hour or two of schmoozing. Why not add some kind of program/symposium following the fun?

Since we are at an engineering college, my first idea was to have a symposium focusing on the future of mobiles, or something equally geeky. But Jeff sent me a Facebook message suggesting that I look for a subject that I am passionate about.

Needless to say, I am passionate about creativity: teaching creative thinking (my first job at Afeka College, together with Alon Amit, was teaching a course called the ‘Art and Science of CreativeTthinking’), and sharing the culture and spirit of creativity. In this context I profess to be a follower and disciple of Yossi Vardi, who has been spreading this bug in Israel and abroad over the past years (more on that later).

So the first idea was a symposium on creative thinking: can it be taught or naught? Here at the college, we have a rare ensemble of full-time and part-time staff (and even students) who use creative thinking methodologies (TRIZ, SIT, brainstorming, etc.) in their courses. But this might quickly turn into a wrestling match between people proposing the various techniques. Also, it would be unidirectional and informative, a bunch of talking heads, rather than experiential.

Enter the un-conference. The un-conference is a meeting in which there is a high level of democracy. In other words, the people attending can suggest themselves as speakers, as well as the topics they choose. The schedule is dynamic and sometimes spontaneous. Wondrous things can happen in the class and outside as well.

So I contacted Yossi and asked for his moral support. He agreed, and suggested that we work together with one of his up-and-coming youngsters, Noam Fine. Noam and I met up briefly at the DLD in Munich, and then at the Arcaffe at Shuster Center (one of my favorite haunts, I used to perform there a decade ago when it was called “Rinchi’s”). Following some uffish thought, we settled on an un-conference on creative spirit and named it “Bird Brain”. Noam added the 10 to make it look respectable. He also designed the logo, set up a wiki. We enlisted the formidable organizational skills of Sharon Ariel (head of marketing at the college) and thus the un-conference was born.

So what went on at Bird Brain 10? In the auditorium, we had an eclectic mix of birds sharing their thoughts, visions, and art. Yossi talked about silliness as next to creativeness, and brought Noa Vax to the stage for an impromptu microphone tapping percussion solo. The next batter up was Yossi’s formidable brother Didi who talked about amazing useless things (two of which are on permanent display at the college). The Vardi brothers were followed by thespians, orators, musicians, magicians, conductors, inventors, patentors, and more. Presiding over the meeting on Mor’s perch was Max the talking parrot, who had very little to say, and was very popular as a result.

Outside, Hagai Cohen eggzibited his printer-organ, Moti Sokolov, president of the college rode on Didi Vardi’s walkcycle, Yossi Matias googled on the piano, while Ilil gave out delicious jam samples (jam session with jam), Aviva and Jehudi gave out smiling roses. There were lots of smiles.

You had to be there. If you weren’t, well we plan to have Bird Brain 11 on the day right after Purim, 2011.

For more on Bird Brain you can check out:

Managing Greatness
Appreciating and encouraging greatness
Best of BirdBrain
by Gil Reich on March 3, 2010

A Door Closes, A Window Open

A Door Closes, A Window Opens

In December, 1973, I flew back to Ottawa for my brother David's bar mitzvah. A week or so after the simha, I was surprised to receive a telegram (phone call? I can't remember) from Tel Aviv University.

"Where are you?" they wanted to know. A week before the Yom Kippur war, I had taken the bus from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv to interview for a graduate position there as a M.Sc. student /teaching aide. The following week, the war erupted and the next two months were turmoil.

Nevertheless, school had now started again in Israel and I was expected back, to teach and study. I remember sitting on the plane back to Tel Aviv with a religious man who told me that the world was going to end soon, and that the battle of Gog and Magog (Armageddon) was imminent.

Thus began my romance with Tel Aviv University that lasted thirty-six years. I did my graduate degrees there (with a 30 month hiatus for army duty), hung out at Gilman, lived intermittently in the dorms (the same ones that still exist!), did some crazy things at the pool that I cannot share, fell in love, landed a tenured position at the Dental School and more recently Medical Faculty, and made a decent career as a 'bad breath guru'. I even brought the university some four million dollars in revenues from several inventions.

In two weeks I turn 58 and could continue as a tenured professor there for another decade. But I have decided to call it a day. There are many reasons for this, but perhaps the main one is that I have many interests, aside from being a microbiologist (or scientist, for that matter), and this university (and most others) want their professors to be very focused and to maintain the very same specialty throughout their careers. In other words, if you come in as a young lecturer teaching bacteriology in your thirties, you are expected to be teaching the same subject thirty-five years later.

That works for many of my colleagues, who are delighted to hang out in laboratories for decades focusing on a singular path towards stellar success in a very specific scientific area. But for those of us who become easily distracted by other loves such as music, creative writing, thinking and other 'wastes of time' the academic trajectory becomes a strait-jacket.

Some of my favorite scientists followed meandering careers. Louis Pasteur, who started out as an amazing chemist and followed his nose into microbiology and other biological pursuits and my own professor, Eugene Rosenberg who also began in chemistry and found a new and amazing career in bacterial behavior. I also remember the late Herman Epstein, whose amazing career kept morphing (I was witness to his main morph, as he started studying the development of rodent brains in response to educational development in the 1970s).

For many years, my research on bad breath saved me. I was able to look at not only the microbes that cause the smell, but also the smelly substances, and the psychological implications of smelling and being smelled. I invented gizmos and mouthwashes. I interviewed thousands of people and learned a lot about humanity. The breadth of breath research was satisfying for me. But when I left the dental school for the medical faculty five years ago, I was expected to morph back into a regular bacteriologist and teach medical bacteriology much the same as it was taught when I was a student in the early 1970s. I tried, but eventually decided that this was wrong. I cannot teach medical students subjects in which I am neither up-to-date, nor particularly interested.

And so, from December 1st, one month from now, I will become an 'emeritus professor' at Tel Aviv University. I will maintain my office and laboratory (the latter will likely diminish in size and manpower of time) and will continue, part-time, my work on the causes, diagnosis and treatment of bad breath and related issues. I will also do some teaching, but only subjects that I feel passionate about.

My original retirement plan was to spend less of my time at the university, and invest more effort in my other pursuits, i.e., playing and singing jazz, writing children's stories, and teaching multidisciplinary creative thinking. I sent a message to the President of Afeka Engineering College, Prof. Moti Sokolov, asking him whether I would be continuing the course in creative thinking that I had given over the past few years with Dr. Alon Amit. Instead he called me in and invited me to be the Dean of Students of the college.

Flabbergasted, I accepted. During all my years at Tel Aviv University, I was never asked or elected to run or administer anything (always considered too much of a scatterbrained nonconformist). When I applied for the position of Rector of Tel Aviv University a few years ago, the nomination committee treated me with such kindness and compassion that I knew it was hopeless! I certainly hope that the qualities that made me such a round peg in a square hole will now work to my advantage!

So, from Dec. 1st I start a new and exciting career, hoping to help the college shape and sharpen the minds and careers of 2000 youngsters. Afeka, here I come.