Six Sigma

It has been an exceptionally busy week. Last Monday, I went to Bavaria to take a course in statistical mathematics (specifically, statistical methods for quality analysis). It is now Friday afternoon, and I am sitting in the train home, so I have some time to write.

Well, I say I am sitting, which is true in the loosest sense of the word. The train is packed as a can of sardines, as we say in German, and there are no seats left. Instead, I picked one of the entrances, put my backpack down on the floor and sat down on it. My laptop is now fulfilling its nominal function while I am hoping it won't sterilize me (or worse, run out of power before I'm done writing).

Sunday

So anyway, let's start on Sunday afternoon, when my dad and I went down to Frankfurt by car. We had to stop by Aachen first to get my laptop's power cord (this statistical course is based as much on computer calculation as paper, if not more), and then we were on our way.

Around Koblenz, we put in a stop at a way station along the autobahn to get dinner. It was here that I also saw the most futuristic and sanitary lavatory ever. Seriously, this was Sci-Fi stuff - have you ever read Asimov's Caves of Steel? This thing put me in mind of the Spacer facilities. The toilets are self-cleaning: They flush when you get up, and a robotic arm extends to wipe the rim that you sat on. None of the devices - foam dispenser, water tap, towel dispenser - required physical contact; all had sensor plates. When we left the station, the sun had already gone down and we drove on until we arrived in Frankfurt late in the night.

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I had only a short time to go online and have some dinner, then write in my diary: After that it was time to sleep - I had to get up at six in the morning.

Monday

The journey down to Niedernberg was much shorter than the one to Frankfurt, but it still took us over another state border: We had now entered Bavaria - home of Beer, Weisswurst and Lederhosen. As if obeying an unwritten rule, the brisk early fall weather cleared up as we passed the border and gave way to summer.

But enough of the journey. Very soon, we arrived at the Seehotel Niedernberg, the hotel that the course was taking place at. I was half an hour early, so I had first pick of the seats (front row for me; my bad eyes have no chance of reading the flipchart and the projection screen otherwise). The view was utterly awesome. I should have expected something like this from the conference room of a luxurious hotel (this was the sort of room where I imagine companies might have gone into merger talks), but it was still surprising. Through the window, we saw this:

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Over the next twenty minutes, the other participants came in one by one. I was in for a pretty big shock, although I had known what to expect of course. Just by being in the room, I must have lowered the mean age of the occupants by a year, perhaps two, and we were about fifteen people in total. The culture shock continued after the instructor came in and introduced himself, kicking off a round of introductions. Quality assistant this, manager that, chief engineer the other. All of them work in big technical companies, from producing nuclear fuel rods to surgical dressings: All of them industries in which quality standards are of utmost importance. Needless to say, I am the only college student in the room, but thankfully, no eyebrows were raised. I still felt quite isolated though, and when I had finished my introduction, I was relieved.

The next hours were spent passing information about the structure and form of the course that would follow. Our course is organized by the German Association for Quality (DGQ e.V.). It actually consists of five modules mixed into a single one; these are:

• Basic Statistics
• Statistical Process Analysis
• Data Aggregation
• Measuring Technology
• Design of Experiments

All of these modules are normally taught over several months; altogether the material we are going to learn used to cover over two years. We are going to cram it into our heads in the next two weeks.

His words stayed with me, which I am only wildly misquoting and paraphrasing : "Do you know Six Sigma? After you're through with this course, you will know twice as much about statistics as the Six Sigma Black Belts."

And so, wasting no time at all of the approximately 200-240 hours that the course will last in total, we delved right into the subject matter. A brief summary of what role statistics play in quality control, and what properties they are used on ("continuous, discrete, ordinal and nominal").

What amazed me most were the relative levels of mathematical understanding. I'd entered into the course fully expecting to be outshone in all things from age to work experience to mathematical brilliance. Yet, while we were still in the basics of the first days (when the material was still old news for me after the statistics course in college), I had many opportunities for being helpful with explanations. Take stochastics and boolean: de Morgan stated that "not (A and " is the same as "(not A) or (not " - the Distributive law of boolean operands. With this stuff fresh in my mind after only a year, it seems obvious - but evidently such theoretical things don't hold up well under long times of disuse in the industry.

I'm very lucky that this is the case, for there is nothing that breaks ice as well as mathematical explanations - especially when your colleagues are between 15-30 years older than you and you have very little in common. The first coffee break was spent very self-consciously in isolation, but by the afternoon of the next day, I was actually asked by some participants to explain a stochastical problem to them! To be sure, it is nothing like being called cute by a girl, but being asked about math by a group of engineers does give a good boost to the old self-esteem.

Lunch break rolled around, and a very pretty problem presented itself, promising to stay around for the next four weeks: Four-star Hotels are ****ing expensive, pun fully intended. Non-guests pay 22€ per day for lunch (which comes to 31$ in these days of turmoil). For reference, that is what this starving college student lives on for nearly two weeks. This meant nothing to my colleagues, who could probably put all of that on their expenses bill to their company that was paying for their qualification, but I was finding myself having to answer, with rumbling stomach, the last of those delicate philosophical questions the late Douglas Adams posed to humanity:

Where shall we have lunch?

On the first day, with no time to think the problem through and fortunately a spot of cash handy, I shelled out my two-week-sustenance and was allowed to take part in the all-you-can-eat buffet: The first time I've ever seen the economy of overselling (so common in web-hosting) applied to gastronomy, and I was among the 99% of people who only use up 1% of what they pay for, because I eat like a bird (a diabetic, anorexic bird).

The day ended several hours later, and I was anxious to get to a bed after my brain had spent about 10 hours soaking up information. And uncertain: Today had been easy if grueling. The next day was going to be tougher. And the third tougher still. I needed to be well-rested to confront them.