in the Age of AI
IIT Jammu · a talk for undergraduates
That gap is what today is about. It is not a gap in your ability. It is a gap in what you were asked to practise.
I have been doing research for about twenty years. In that time the ground moved under this profession.
| What changed | What did not | |
|---|---|---|
| 1 · Research as inquiry | answers got cheap | nobody can tell you what to ask |
| 2 · Systems as the opportunity | expertise stopped being locked inside people | machines and instruments are still unequal |
| 3 · Maths as foundation | the working out got cheap — the proof, the code, the looking-up | seeing what to work out is still earned |
They go in that order for a reason. A good problem needs a conflict. Conflicts sit at the boundary between systems. And maths is how you cross a boundary.
Some of you are already carrying a question you cannot get past. Keep hold of it. We come back to it at the end.
Three films, and the same three parts. A villain, a wall, and a locket.
Bell Labs, Murray Hill. Within a few corridors of each other, over about twenty years.
| Who | What | Which gave us |
|---|---|---|
| Bardeen and Brattain — then Shockley | the point-contact transistor, 1947; the junction transistor soon after | compute — every chip since |
| Claude Shannon | information theory, 1948 | information — what a bit is, and how much you can send |
| Richard Hamming | error-correcting codes, 1950 | how to send it and know it arrived intact |
| Ken Thompson & Dennis Ritchie | Unix, 1969; C, by Ritchie, 1972 | programming — how nearly everything since has been written |
Compute, information, programming. Every model running today rests on those three, and they came out of one building.
Which is the point. The knowledge was in the people. When the people moved, it moved with them — and if you were not near them, you did not have it.
Hamming used to change tables in the canteen — mathematicians, then physicists, then chemists — asking each of them what the important problems in their field were. That was the best available technology for finding out what other people knew. We come back to him in Part one.
That is one building, and it is not the only one. Berkeley, Cambridge, the IITs — the same story with different names.
20 years ago knowledge was in books, papers and people. Talent and knowledge were concentrated, and the likes of MIT, Harvard, Bell Labs and the IITs were the place.
That last word is the one that mattered. If the knowledge sat inside a person, you had to be near that person. So everyone tried to get near the same few people.
No longer. Now more than ever, anybody can do good work — except computational or physical infrastructure is the limiting factor. Access is not the problem.
Two different things are being called access, and only one of them changed.
If the books, the papers, the people and the machines are all a question away, the obvious thing to ask is why any of this is still difficult.
That is a large claim, and you should not take it on my word. So let me put one object on the table.
Not a research paper. Something on your desk.
The same cup can be handed to you as three completely different tasks — and you have only ever been given the first one.
Keep the cup in mind. It comes back, more than once, and the last time will not look like a cup.
| What you are asked | Who supplies what | |
|---|---|---|
| The exam question | Here is Newton's cooling law. Here is the cup at 90 °C. What is the temperature after ten minutes? | everything — the formula, the boundary, and what counts as right |
| The systems question | Why is it going cold faster than the formula said? | you decide what to count. The metal table under it? The open surface? The draught? |
| The research question | Can we make a better cup? | nothing — starting with what "better" is even supposed to mean |
You have done the first many times. The third is one nobody has asked you.
Your education so far has been the left-hand block. Research is the right-hand one.
It sounds like an easy word. Try to pin it down.
That sentence, the one that sounds like nonsense, is the research problem. We take it apart in Part one.
Kumbakonam coffee does not come in a ceramic mug. It comes in a davara and tumbler — thin metal, no handle, and far too hot to pick up.
The same town. He grew up a few streets from where that coffee is made, worked mostly alone, out of one borrowed book, and posted his results to Cambridge because there was nobody nearer to send them to.
Hold that thought for Part two, when I tell you what it used to cost to reach somebody who could understand you.
Take the objective a sensible engineer would write down — lose as little heat as possible — and mark this vessel against it.
Poor on heat retention. Poor on comfort. And in daily use, by millions of people, for as long as anyone can remember.
— or the two things we just measured were not what the object is for.
Both vessels are correct. A ceramic mug is for a drink you return to over an hour. This is for a drink finished in three minutes. Neither is a better cup in the abstract, because there is no such thing.
You do not need to read the symbols. It says one thing: wherever something is hotter than its neighbours, it leaks into them, until it stops being hotter. Tea into the room. Hot water into cold.
We meet it four more times — in a bathtub, in a city, in a photograph, and in the last picture I show you — and it will not look like itself on any of them.
Part one of three · the part nobody can do for you
Notice what that sentence separates, because most people run the two together.
Only the first is needed to begin. And people give up not when the second one stalls — which is normal, and can last years — but when they discover the first was never done.
A question you understand exactly is one you can put down and pick up again. One you half understand does not survive the week.
The prologue left you one question sitting at an edge — a cup that has to cool fast and cool slowly. Here is a time I noticed one myself, and what happened next.
It is the only story in this talk that runs from the noticing all the way to the end.
There is a small classical fact, and it sits at the end of a chain.
| Year | Who | What they measured | Which distribution it pins down |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1981 | Chernoff | a bound on the variance | — he proved the inequality |
| 1983 | Borovkov and Utev | the same bound, and its converse | the normal |
| 1991 | Freimer and Mudholkar | distance from the median | the Laplace |
| — | the one I could not finish | distance from any quantile | the asymmetric Laplace |
Their result is about the median. And the median is only one quantile among many.
I had the intuition. I saw the pattern. I showed it to a few people.
I did not sit down and pose myself this question. The question came out of reading something I had no business reading, on a subject I was not working on.
That is what people mean by serendipity, and it is not luck. It is what happens to somebody who reads outside the thing in front of them — and it is the first casualty when you only ever ask for exactly what you need.
You are not meant to read this. It is here so you can see the size of the thing.
\[\mathrm{AMD}_\kappa[g(X)] \;\le\; \mathbb{E}\big[\eta_\kappa(X)\,|g'(X)|\big]\]
for every absolutely continuous \(g\), with equality exactly when \(g\) is affine
\[\Longrightarrow\quad X \sim \mathrm{ALD}(\mu,\sigma,\kappa)\]
I showed it to a few people. That is not a figure of speech — a few people was the entire expertise available to me.
So it sat. Not because it was wrong, and not because it was hard to state. Because I had run out of both the working out and the people.
I used Claude and Codex as maths co-pilots. I tried it because I had watched them solve olympiad problems, and thought: if that, then perhaps this.
Predict, be corrected, adjust. I was doing gradient ascent on a proof, with a very fast partner.
Two things, and they are the two the story has been about.
And one thing did not change at all.
The guess was mine. The checking was mine. Only the middle got faster.
Not unproved. False. After years of trying to prove it.
The result did not answer my question. It changed which question was worth asking.
So the working out is cheap and the expert is available. What is the hard part now?
Look at what is left once you take those two away.
And notice how badly I did at it. My whole story turned on reading the right four pages by accident. That is not a method, and you cannot plan around it.
So we need something better than luck: a way to look at a question you are considering and say whether it is worth the years. There is one, and it takes a single line.
An important problem is not one with a big payoff. It is one you have a way into.
Inquiry is at the heart of it.
Notice who was saying it. Hamming was at Bell Labs, with a computer, a machine shop, a budget, and Shannon down the corridor. What counted as a reasonable attack for him is not what counts for you.
Which is what makes it a useful test rather than a discouraging one. It does not ask you to find something important. It asks you to find the overlap between what matters and what you can actually get your hands on.
A problem will have a conflict in it.
You have seen one already: the cup, which must cool fast and cool slowly. Three more are waiting in Part two, and every one of them is a conflict nobody had written down.
And as a rule rather than as an exception, that conversion is about resolving the tension in the conflict.
Three tests, and they go in this order:
And notice where test one is easiest to satisfy. A boundary between two fields is already a conflict — two ways of doing things, each with a reason, meeting at a line nobody has drawn. That is where we go next, and Part two hands you the first test for free.
That is the order you apply them in, not the order they matter in. Consequence is checked last because it is the hardest to judge in advance — last to check, not least to matter.
Three questions, one for each test:
You do not find a good problem first and then start asking. The asking is what turns a topic into a problem.
The conflict we left at the start: the cup must cool fast and cool slowly.
One property, temperature. Two opposite demands, each with a reason. That is the shape.
Put a material in the wall that melts at about 60 °C. Above that it absorbs heat and the tea falls quickly. Below it, the material gives the heat back. The conflict is not split down the middle; it is arranged so both sides get what they asked for.
Failures are gradient ascent signals.
Hypothesise. Experiment. Observe. Deduce. Then loop. Research is that same loop, run over years rather than minutes.
And notice what turning a wish into a conflict actually costs. Nothing was invented. The physics did not change, the cup did not change. The only thing that changed is the sentence.
Two things in this talk sat unfinished for a long time.
Neither survived because somebody believed in it hard enough. They survived because each was stated precisely enough to still be there when the tools arrived.
When everybody says wrong, if you believe in it, persist.
Belief on its own does not separate persistence from stubbornness, and the room always knows the difference.
Perseverance is a trait to be built.
Serendipity — the explore/exploit balance. The need of the hour in AI. And music as a mental reset; it could be any other hobby.
Part two of three · where the opening is now
Same cup. Part one named the conflict and resolved it by hand — a material in the wall that melts at about 60 °C.
Now put the research question aside and take the easy engineering objective instead — the one almost anybody would write down first.
Just: lose as little heat as possible. That is a perfectly respectable engineering problem, and it is the one almost anybody would write down.
Paras Chopra took that goal, wrote the physics down, added the two constraints that stop it cheating — hold enough tea, mouth wide enough to drink from — and let a program search the shapes.
Would you like such a cup?
The program did the part that has become cheap. What it left out is what nobody wrote down.
And notice the davara from earlier would score terribly here. It is a fine vessel and a hopeless answer to this objective — which tells you the objective, not the vessel, is the thing under test.
Before the big examples, one small one — so you can feel the thing happening in your own head. Commit to an answer before I show you anything.
You want a bath. Some water is at room temperature. Some you heat. Which uses less energy?
| Your options | |
|---|---|
| 1 | Heat a little water, very hot. Add a lot of cold. |
| 2 | Heat a lot of water, gently. Add hardly any cold. |
| 3 | Somewhere in the middle. There is a best split. |
Hands up. Count them. Write the numbers on the board before anything else happens.
There is no best answer, because the question was not well posed.
That is the same equation again — the second of the four. Hot water and cold evening out.
Now there is a real conflict: the water must be stored hot and must arrive warm.
And the thing that resolves it is the mixer tap in your bathroom. You have used the answer every day without noticing there was a question.
The bath was a wrong question in one room. Here is the same mistake, made by a whole city. It does not destroy heat. It moves heat out of your room onto the street — plus everything the motor burns.
| Level | What happens |
|---|---|
| Your room | Cooler. Sensible. Nobody is doing anything wrong. |
| The building | Every flat rejecting heat, all day |
| The street | The air outside gets hotter |
| The city | Everyone’s unit works harder — so the street gets hotter still |
Same two machines. Same two rooms. Same setting on the thermostat. The only thing I am going to change is where the hot air goes.
Neither unit is faulty, and neither engineer made a mistake inside their own scope. Both machines end up shutting themselves down to avoid damage — the protection working exactly as designed, on a situation nobody designed for.
The blue arrow is the heat you meant to move. The red one is the part nobody put in the design brief.
A city that cools itself also heats itself, and no single unit did anything wrong.
The third of the four. Heat spreading from where there is more of it to where there is less — here, out of your window.
When you last sized an air conditioner in a design class — did you assume the outside temperature was fixed?
You cannot avoid drawing a line. You can only be aware that you have drawn one.
And it is not only students who do this. The most celebrated physicist of his age worked out how old the Earth is, by asking how long a hot ball takes to cool.
Heat leaving a hot ball, measured at the surface. The arithmetic is correct.
Not an arithmetic error. What he left outside the problem: the Earth carries heat by convection in the mantle, not conduction alone — and, discovered later, it heats itself from within.
John Perry put the convection objection to him in 1895. Kelvin answered him, courteously, and was not persuaded — and Perry’s argument was then largely forgotten for decades. The correction was available, in print, and went nowhere.
Not one of them was hard physics. Look at what each one actually needed:
| The failure | What it sat between |
|---|---|
| The cup | thermodynamics + what a person is willing to hold |
| The bath | heat + plumbing + what grows in warm water |
| The city | heat transfer + how a street is built + what electricity costs |
| Kelvin | conduction + geology + a phenomenon not yet discovered |
A component problem sits inside one field. A system problem sits between several. That is why these were left alone — not because they were deep, but because no one person could reach across.
Years ago I built a method for compressing images. It worked, I published it, and I moved on.
One crossing. Five years. That is the price the old arrangement charged, and it is why system problems stayed shut.
Now that we have access to specialized experts, the innovation frontier moves from the individual to systems. That is where the opportunity is.
When the boundary is tight and the environment is constrained because the bar is high — the area is saturated — it is almost as if you have a bottleneck. Any discovery in that space and time must be a breakthrough, and fundamentally refreshing.
Part three of three · not computing and calculation
Maths is not computing and calculation. It is structure, abstraction and generalization.
Do not be afraid of maths. Now it is accessible.
Start with something you already do without thinking, so we can watch what maths actually is. Open the middle. Decide which half. Repeat.
Now — where else have you done exactly that?
Each question throws away half of what is left. That is why it is quick, and it is the same procedure in all four places.
That move is the simplest useful procedure in computing.
The arithmetic was wrong in a way the specification never mentioned — and nobody had written down what the routine was supposed to guarantee for a very large array.
Gaspard Monge, a French military engineer, asked how to move a heap of earth to where you need it for the least total effort. Not the shortest distance — the least work, with every shovelful accounted for.
| Year | Who | What they were doing |
|---|---|---|
| 1942 | Leonid Kantorovich, an economist | allocating scarce resources — and a Nobel Prize for it |
| 1998 | Rubner, Tomasi and Guibas | finding similar photographs |
| 2015 | Kusner, Sun, Kolkin and Weinberger | do these two sentences mean the same? |
| 2017 | Arjovsky, Chintala and Bottou | training generative models |
Every one of them is Monge’s heap of earth. Someone who knows that holds one thing. Someone who met them separately holds five.
If the solution is elegant — stripped down to its bare minimum — it is almost always solved earlier.
And rediscovering something independently is not wasted time. It is evidence your instinct was sound.
Two fields that were not talking to each other. In both cases the structure was the same and the names were different.
This is not a talent so much as a habit, and habits can be practised.
Put a signal’s energy over time and frequency next to a probability spread over two variables and the picture is the same. Same shape, same edges that have to add up, same problem of fitting one to data. They are not the same object — one integrates to energy, the other to one, and the time-frequency version can go negative — but the machinery you reach for is.
CART, 1984. Breiman, Friedman, Olshen and Stone. Take your data, split it in two on the best question you can find, then do the same to each half. Keep going until stopping is better than splitting.
US 7,123,774 B2, filed 2002. Dhavala and Wheeler. Initialise a data tree on the bit depth, then split a bin into two bins based on a predicate.
His tree was built to sort records into classes — the sort of thing used for diagnoses and credit decisions. Mine was compressing images. Neither of us knew about the other.
Three words, and you have now seen one of each.
| What it means | The one you just saw | |
|---|---|---|
| Abstraction | throw away everything that does not matter | the dictionary. Not words, not pages, not alphabetical order — only ordered, halve, compare |
| Generalization | solve the whole family, not the one case | Monge’s earth. Not soil and carts — any two heaps, any cost of moving between them |
| Structure | the same shape, in two places that never met | time-frequency and densities. Compression and CART |
The third is the one that pays immediately. When two things share a structure, the technique carries across without modification — you do not adapt it, you just use it.
So the question is not what to learn. It is how you get better at noticing — and that is the only part of this talk that is really about you.
You have already seen this loop once, in Part one, running on a proof. So the pattern-spotting is a habit — fair enough. How do you get the habit?
It is not granted. It has to be earned. It will come from failure.
The recipe is — predict, then correct. This is precisely gradient ascent.
Hypothesise. Experiment. Observe. Deduce. Then loop — and the size of the error tells you which way to move.
The loop has a hole in it. You cannot make a prediction about a thing you cannot picture — and most of what you meet in a new subject is exactly that. A definition you can read but cannot see. A theorem stated in words you have to look up.
Here is one I could not picture at all.
That is the sentence you will hear. Universal approximation. Give it any reasonable curve on an interval, and one hidden layer can get as close to it as you like.
Five units, and it is the wrong shape. Twenty-two, and you can barely see the gap. It sounds like a great deal.
Everyone says neural networks can do anything. Universal approximation. I could not picture what that meant.
Same move on the memory of a network. What does it mean to say it remembers? Make it discrete, and you can count it.
Which is the honest reading of the theorem. It says a wide enough layer can represent anything. It says nothing about whether you could ever find it, train it, or afford it.
And now look back at the two curves. Twenty-two units meant twenty-two flat pieces. There was no cleverness in the closer fit — it was the coarse one with more pieces. The discrete case and the continuous case are the same construction.
No theory without code, no code without theory. Code is practice. Theory is guidance.
Three pictures. Stripes, checks, specks. Nobody would confuse them.
Now let each one spread — the same equation, on pixels instead of tea.
They end up indistinguishable. Not similar — you cannot tell which is which.
Hold that. In the last five minutes I am going to show you something running it backwards anyway — and you will need to know why that should be impossible.
Can we undo it?
So that is the end of it. Except it is not.
Not a picture this time. A single point, and at every step you knock it a little, at random.
If you cannot undo it, learn it instead. Show a machine thousands of examples of a point being nudged, and let it learn which way things came from.
Nobody inverted the equation. They changed the question — from undo this to learn the way back — and the second one has an answer.
The equation was never run backwards. A different question was asked, and that one had an answer.
Which is what this whole talk has been about. Not answering harder. Asking something else.
Underneath all three: expertise is accessible now — the books, the papers, the people, the working out. The knowing half, to anybody. The machines are still unequal.
Be curious. Nobody arrives curious about the right things. It is cultivated, and it is cultivated on purpose.
Get genuinely good at one subject. Exploit. Go deep enough in something that you have real judgment about it — you cannot reach across from nowhere.
Explore the periphery. Where your subject stops and somebody else’s begins. That is where the questions sit that nobody owns and nobody has drawn a line around. That question you have been holding since the fourth slide — ask what it touches.
Actively pursue gradient ascent over your own knowledge. Predict. Be wrong. Adjust. Not once, when it happens to you — deliberately, as a habit, for years.
Maths, Systems and Research