![\"chayal\"](\"https:\/\/live.staticflickr.com\/65535\/47663796052_92cb86a5c3_k.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\nYours truly, circa 1984.<\/em><\/p>\n I was an artillery soldier, not yet having gone through command training to become a non-commissioned officer, and the inspection was to be carried out by the general who was the commander of the entire Artillery Corps. All of the soldiers were tense\u2014to date we had only had inspections from higher officers from our own unit\u2014such as the unit commander. So there was a great deal of fear that the general might punish us for doing a poor job, by revoking leave privileges, etc.<\/p>\n We had been cleaning our weapons, checking our equipment and readiness all night. Morning had finally arrived, and we were standing by our artillery pieces, in full battle gear, at attention. The general strode up and stopped 2 soldiers over from me and asked: \u201cHow many bullets in each clip?\u201d The soldier replied, \u201cThirty-five.\u201d One of the things about Hebrew, the language in which this all took place, is that every word has a masculine and feminine form, including numbers. And since the plural noun \u201cbullets\u201d is masculine, the masculine form for 35 should have been used. But wasn\u2019t. The general quickly corrected the soldier, and stated the masculine form of the number. He then moved on to the next soldier, who promptly made the very same mistake, and was subsequently corrected. The general then turned to me, and of course, I answered \u201c35\u201d using the correct masculine form. Hearing my Hebrew accent, the general asked me where I was from, and how long I\u2019d been in Israel. I told him that I was from Canada and had been in Israel less than a year. He said to me, in a loud voice meant for everyone in the vicinity to hear: \u201cYou\u2019ve been here less than a year, and already your Hebrew is better than these soldiers who have been here all their lives.\u201d When I tried to point out that I had the benefit of hearing him correct the two soldiers, he stopped me and said: \u201cThat is the point\u2014you learn from others\u2019 mistakes, without making your own.\u201d<\/p>\n To some extent, this life-lesson provided by a general from a far-away desert scene, has been a pillar or hallmark of my life and scientific career. Indeed, if someone else made that mistake, why not capitalize and take advantage of that?<\/p>\n As a graduate student I did a lot of protein work, separating them by electrophoresis, and examining them by immunoblotting. These techniques require a step where proteins are transferred by electric current from a \u201cgel\u201d to a piece of filter paper. One of the most common errors is hooking up the electric current\u2014nearly every researcher has at some point done this in the reverse direction, so that all the proteins float off into the buffer instead of into the filter paper. Throughout my bench career, I have been wary and every time I connected those wires to the power supply, I was able to remind myself of the \u201c35 bullets story\u201d and take an extra minute to make sure the orientation was correct, so as not to make a mistake.<\/p>\n There are countless ways in which people can learn from others\u2019 mistakes\u2014in science and in life overall. Unfortunately (for others), someone else\u2019s pain can prevent our own pain. But the trick is to recognize how others have erred and to correct that error in our own thinking and behavior. This is not always so simple.<\/p>\n I will end this little parable with a \u201cjoke\u201d I once heard\u2014certainly not a pedagogical joke, but it does illustrate this point again. A mother brings her child to kindergarten for the very first day. She says to the teacher: \u201cJohnny is a very sensitive child\u2014if he misbehaves or does anything wrong, please shout at the child beside him. That\u2019ll ensure that he behaves properly.\u201d Regardless of the cruelty of this little joke, it is incumbent upon us to \u201cbe Johnnies\u201d and to really learn from the teacher who shouts at the neighboring child. It will certainly make our science move faster.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I did not enjoy my service in the Israeli military between 1983-1986; in fact, I hated it. But I do know that it taught me many lessons, and I have long thought that my experiences in the army have helped … Continue reading