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Saturday, March 25, 2017

Writing Grants for Federal Research Funding – Some Tips!

          When I finally successfully defended my Ph.D. in Biomedical Engineering, one of the members of my committee wanted to meet with me separately after it was over.  When I met with him, he gave me some “advice” that has been seared into my brain ever since.  He said: “your writing is so bad that you’ll never get any papers published and you’ll never get any grants funded.”  A truly optimistic way to start a career in research!

          Well, he was right in one sense: my writing was terrible.  But that was over 25 years ago, and since then I have managed to get many papers published and get many grants funded.  I don’t have any teaching duties, so I and my staff are essentially fully supported by the grants I write.  My funding is mostly from National Institutes of Health (NIH) and the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA), but I’ve also had funding from the Department of Defense (DoD), the Food and Drug Administration (FDA), and a variety of different private foundations. These days it is very hard to maintain continuity in a research program.  The funding rates at NIH are typically around 10-15%, meaning that only one in ten grants is funded in any one cycle.  And you’re competing with a lot of really smart and creative people trying to solve equally valuable problems.  So I thought I would write some of my thoughts about the process of grant writing and give you my personal tips on how to write successful grants.  Hopefully it will be of some help to any of you who are trying to make a career in research.

Most of my thoughts are specifically related to medical research grants submitted to federal agencies where there is a scientific peer-review process, such NIH, VA, FDA, and DoD.  I personally haven't had funding from the National Science Foundation, but I presume the process would be fairly similar there as well.  Also, my area of research is implantable medical devices and rehabilitation, so that will totally color my comments.  For example, if you are doing basic cell research in a neuroscience field, my comments may not all be relevant or even correct.  In my experience, the different disciplines even within NIH have different “personalities” with respect to the types of projects they like to fund.  But, with that background in mind, here are some suggestions.

          Let’s start off by trying to put into perspective the difficulty that researchers face in getting funding.  I tell people that getting a grant funded is like bowling a perfect score. Bowling a perfect score is very hard to do – 13 strikes in a row – yet there are lots of bowlers who bowl a perfect score.  How do they do it?  Well, I would say there are two things that you need in order to bowl a perfect score: one is you have to be a very good bowler (obviously), and the second thing is that you have to bowl a lot.  Even the best professional bowlers don't bowl a perfect score every time - it's still a rare event. 

          The analogy with respect to grant writing is this:  you have to be a good researcher, and you have to submit a lot of high quality proposals.  By that I mean that you have to have good ideas, you have to do good research, you have to work as hard as you can to improve your skills and knowledge, and you have to be good at presenting your proposed work in written form.  But in this day and age you also have to write a lot of high quality grants.  This is, of course, hard to do because it takes time to write even one good, high quality grant.  Efficiency is therefore important – you have to keep evaluating what you are spending your time on.  I often ask myself as I’m working on a grant:  “will spending more time on this particular aspect of the proposal improve the grant’s chances of getting funded?”  If not, then don’t spend too much time on it!

Given the difficulties in getting funding, you have to accept that sometimes you will have an excellent idea and write an excellent grant, and it just won’t get a good enough score to be funded.  The process takes a lot of perseverance.  There will be ups and downs.  Because of that, I highly recommend being part of a larger collaborative group of investigators.  Collaborative research itself is an important issue that may be a topic for future discussion, but from the standpoint of grant support, it almost seems necessary.  It's extremely difficult for a single isolated investigator to maintain continual grant funding.  By having a collaborative group, it is possible to “ride out” some lean times. 

I’m not going to talk here about the importance of your scientific ideas.  Obviously you have to have good ideas.  You have to conduct research on issues of importance.  You’ll have to listen to your colleagues and reviewers; and sometimes you’re going to have to face the hard truth:  you need to change your focus.  That can be very difficult.  About fifteen years ago I spent three or four years trying to get funding for an idea I had that involved restoring function in cases of peripheral nerve damage.  After a number of attempts I had to face the reality that it just wasn’t going to happen.  I still think it was a good idea, but I just was not going to get it funded, so I had to leave it behind.

You’re going to have to hone your writing skills.  Grants are written documents and, for the most part, science is conducted through the written word (grants, journal articles, books, etc.).  Grants themselves are never scored explicitly on grammar and clarity, but it absolutely plays a role in whether a grant gets funded or not.  For most of us in the hard sciences and engineering world, our college education didn’t include a lot of specific training in good writing skills.  Kind of odd, really.  However, there are certainly ways to improve your writing skills.  Early in my career, I read a couple of books on scientific writing that helped.  There are classes that you can take that help as well.  But I would say that the thing that helped me the most, by far, was reading and reviewing other people’s grants.  I found it especially instructive to read poorly written grants and papers and try to figure out what made them poor and how they could be improved.  It’s hard work.  You should also keep asking yourself “do I make the same mistakes in my own writing?”  If you are a young investigator, take advantage of opportunities to help review grants for others.  Do internal reviews of papers and grants.  Write out your comments and try to figure out what could be done to improve a grant to make it fundable.  This kind of review and introspection will help you immensely.

          The other major thing is that you absolutely have to understand the audience you are writing for.  If possible, find out the backgrounds of the type of people who are likely to be reviewing your grants.  If you are submitting to NIH, the general make-up of any review panel (Study Section) is publically available [here].  You should go through every name on the study section roster and see what department they are in and, if possible, find out what their area of study is.  Is the Study Section mostly composed of a group of basic neuroscientists?  M.D.s?  Engineers?  You need to know this because every sentence of your proposal needs to be written with that group of reviewers in mind.  I really mean every sentence – from the opening lines of the Specific Aims to the grant conclusion.  If I’m writing a grant that will be reviewed by a group of clinicians, then my whole grant is going to be couched around the disease state and clinical application that I am pursuing.  If I’m writing to engineers, then I need to catch their attention at the beginning with the innovation of my approach and I will certainly need to include more technical details. 

          As important as knowing the make-up of the Study Section, this next issue is even more important:  you have to understand and appreciate the general mental state of the individual who will be reviewing your grant.  By that I mean that you need to understand the personal conditions under which your grant is going to get reviewed.  Reviewers are generally successful researchers, which means they are busy people who have to write their own grants.  They participate in Study Sections because it is good scientific community citizenship.  They want to do a good job reading your grant, but when can they fit it in to their day?  Reading your grant will get pushed off until the late evening.  And it will get pushed off until close to the due date for the review.  It’s just human nature.  Ultimately they will not have quite as much time as they had hoped to read your grant in detail, but they will put time into it.  This puts a premium on the clarity of your writing.  Use of clear figures is mandatory.  Write your grant so that it can be read for someone who is tired and bleary-eyed and still has three more grants to read after they finish yours!

Also, in most cases, the topic of the grant will not be directly in the reviewer’s area of research.  In fact, your grant may cover some areas of scientific exploration that the reviewer is pretty fuzzy on.  Not that they don’t understand the basic science, but they surely have not been reading the same literature you have been reading.  For example, my research is in electrical stimulation for restoration of motor function, primarily in spinal cord injury.  It would be quite possible that, for example, I would be asked to review a grant on something like diagnostic ultrasonic imaging.  I know the basic principle of ultrasonic imaging, and I “know of” people who use it, but that’s about it.  I certainly haven’t read a paper about the advancements in that field in the past 25 years.  The odds are high that there are things in that grant that I really will not understand very well.  However, if the grant includes a brief “tutorial” on ultrasonic imaging and a clear introductory figure, that will help significantly in understanding the proposal.  In my opinion, it is worth the space, even though space is at a high premium in a grant.

          Along the same lines, I always encourage people to try to minimize the use of acronyms.  It is extremely difficult to read a grant if you have to keep going back to the front of the grant to find out what each acronym stands for.  I have a personal rule that I try to introduce no more than three new acronyms in any grant.  This means, again, that you have to know the background of your reviewers.  Will they all know what CNS stands for? (yes)  MRI? (yes)  EMG? (highly likely)  FES? (maybe)  NNP? (definitely not)  So, I try to use, at most, three acronyms that the reviewers are unlikely to know.  That means that I have to spell out a lot of other terms where an acronym would take up less space.  But it’s worth it.  Also, if it has been a few pages since I’ve used a particular acronym, I’ll spell it out again to remind them.  You wouldn’t be allowed to do that according to the rules of writing for a journal article, but a grant is not a journal article.  Your goal is to make it as easy to read as possible for the reviewers. 


          I’ll stop here for now.  There is no advice that can guarantee that you’ll get a grant funded – it just doesn’t work that way.  But if you keep working at the craft of grant-writing, you will greatly improve your chances of getting one funded.

Sunday, January 8, 2017

Experimenting - #21 – Test Tube #2 – Entry #3

          This entry probably won’t make any sense unless you’ve read at least some of the previous entries.  The whole series starts <*here*>.

Our “experimental journey” has brought us to the edge of foolishness, and it can be a dangerous place to be.  Specifically, in the previous entry I asked the question “Is it remotely possible that God could put thoughts in our minds?”  I suggested that, in order to proceed with our experiment, we had to at least allow for the possibility that the answer to this question is “yes.”  I personally think the answer is yes, and I live my life as if it were so.  I know lots of other people who do the same.  But it presents a BIG problem.

The problem is this:  how do you know when you’re hearing God’s “voice” rather than some other “voice”?  We hear all sorts of voices in our heads.  We have ideas.  Thoughts pop into our minds.  We daydream.  We have real dreams.  It is our constant experience that thoughts come and go from our minds.  By allowing for the possibility that some of these thoughts might actually come from God, we have opened ourselves up to utter foolishness.  I will give you a personal example of exactly this problem below, but I hope that you can immediately see the problem.  If you are like me, you have all sorts of thoughts and there are certainly some thoughts that are definitely not from God!  If you start believing that most of the thoughts in your mind are from God, then you’ve gone past the edge of foolishness – you are in total freefall toward a lot of really foolish ideas and foolish actions.  I don’t want you to go there.

The easiest solution is not to get anywhere close to the “edge of foolishness”.  Thus many people, even those who believe that there is a soul and a mind and a real, personal God, will simply reject any notion that God could put thoughts into your mind.  It’s not a bad approach.  I will probably need to come back to that whole line of thinking at some point in a future entry.  But, at the very least, we need to put a lot of boundaries around this whole concept.  I want to address some of those here.

First, “test tube #2” cannot be untethered from “test tube #1” <*see here*>.  Specifically, the Bible describes a lot about God and presents a lot of things that God “likes” and “doesn’t like”; things that God “hates” and “loves.”  Our experiment is related to God as described in the Bible, so we must start with the boundaries that are already written down.  Those are givens.  And, of course, we can’t know the givens unless we are reading the Bible, and thus test tube #1 has to come first.

I know that most people would like to be untethered from the Bible.  But then you are not doing the same experiment and not testing the same God.  In that situation, you have to be careful about what conclusions you draw.  Personally, I think there are many people who perform an “experiment” (usually not very seriously), completely untethered from the Bible, and then, when that experiment fails, conclude that the God described in the Bible must not exist.  For example, I talked about this previously <*here*> where someone stated:  “…Why can't he [God] just reveal his true self, clearly and unequivocally, and settle the question once and for all? If God existed, why wouldn't it just be obvious?”  God, as described in the Bible, is often subtle.  You might conclude that an “obvious God” doesn’t exist (because it’s not obvious!), but that does not mean you can also conclude that a “subtle God” does not exist <*here*>.

OK.  So, we’re going to subject the “voices in our mind” to the principles we find described in the Bible with respect to the kinds of things that God might say to us.  For example, if the voice in your mind is telling you that “God will protect you” if you attempt to harm yourself (e.g. “God wants me to jump off a cliff and He will protect me by catching me and setting me gently on the ground”), then you are definitely not hearing God!  In fact, that specific example is something Jesus experiences (see Matthew chapter 4 verse 6-7).  Jesus gives a principle here – you should not test God.  You can’t just “imagine” that God will do something and then expect him to do it.

We will have to discuss this whole issue much further, and there is a lot to cover, so let me end here by giving you a negative example from my own life.  This happened when I was an undergraduate.  I lived a pretty Spartan existence for much of my undergraduate life:  I went to class, I studied, I worked, I focused on my spiritual activities, and I slept and ate.  No TV, no internet[1], no games.  I was pretty boring.  But also very busy.  I was taking a full load of classes and working at least 20 hours a week.  If you’ve been there, you know what happens:  you don’t get much sleep!

At that time, I did a pretty good job of tracking my time in the various tasks that I did.  As a result, I could clearly see that there just weren’t enough hours in the day to do everything.  In fact, I calculated that I needed a 26.5 hour day.  I normally needed about 7.5 hours of sleep a day, so it was easy to see that if I could survive on 5 hours of sleep each day, I could get everything done.  I “believed” God wanted me to do all the things I was doing, so it seemed logical that God would do a miracle in my life:  specifically, He would allow me to live on 5 hours of sleep instead of 7.5.  All I needed was faith.  In this case “faith” would be exhibited by not allowing myself to sleep longer than 5 hours.  God was clearly going to do this and it was going to work out great.  So “I” thought.  I did allow for an out – I said that God would have to make it plain to me from the Bible that He did not want me to do this.

Well, I managed to keep this up for 10 days somehow, although I’m sure I didn’t learn anything in my classes during that time.  I still have my personal journal notes from that time, and it was clearly an awful time.  I had to set multiple alarms to get up.  I’m sure my roommates loved my “experiment in faith.”  I was totally exhausted.

On the tenth day I read the following verses from the Bible:  “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body.” [I Corinthians 6:19-20].  Given what I was doing to my body by depriving it of sleep, I took that to mean that God did not want me to keep doing this.  In my journal I wrote that “I slept until noon the next day!”

That was over 35 years ago and I still remember it as an important lesson.  You can’t just dream up things that “God” is going to do and then expect Him to do it.  You can’t force God’s hand.  That was not God’s voice I heard in my mind, telling me I could get by on 5 hours of sleep. 

On the other hand, I personally did, and still do, feel that it was God who arranged for me to come across the verse in Corinthians that indicated I should stop being foolish.  I did not come across that verse randomly – I was systematically reading and studying through the Bible at that time – and came across it in the course of what I was reading.  It fit the situation perfectly.  I say that God “spoke” to me through that verse. 

If your natural response to my claim that God “spoke” to me is one of significant skepticism, then I’m with you.  It could have all been total coincidence.  Besides, after ten days of sleep deprivation, any verse could have been twisted to mean “stop being an idiot.”  The point is very valid.  However, the point of relaying this particular experience is not that you will believe that God spoke to me – that’s my problem – it is to understand how God might speak to you.  One way this could happen is that you come across a Bible passage that seems directly written to you for the very specific situation that you find yourself in at that particular time.  When these things all come together, it can be rather shocking.  But you have to experience it yourself.  If you allow for the possibility of God speaking to you in this way, then there is a chance, however remote, that it could happen.  If you exclude the possibility altogether, then there is zero chance it could happen.

There is much more to go on this topic, as it is fairly complex.  Next we will have to discuss the various things that can influence our mind.



[1] Punch cards: yes – internet: no.

Saturday, December 24, 2016

Experimenting - #20 – Test Tube #2 – Entry #2

         There’s no way to get around it – for many of you this is going to be a very strange series of entries – one that will seem completely crazy.  But I hope you will humor me for a bit and consider this topic at face value.

          We have been talking about communicating with God; aka “prayer”.  In the previous entry <*here*> I talked about two important elements: 1) go to a quiet place, and 2) talk to God.  This time we are going to talk about the third element I mentioned: “listen to God”.

          I have to say that the topic of “listening to God” is an odd topic even for those who say that God “speaks” to them all the time.  I have talked to lots and lots of people who mention casually that God spoke to them, but I can’t ever remember hearing anyone give an in-depth lesson on what it really means to say “God spoke to me”.  What I find even more interesting – even somewhat troubling – is that the Bible does the same thing.  God speaks to lots of people in the Bible, from Adam in the Garden to the Apostle John on the Island of Patmos, yet I don’t know of any passage in the Bible that talks about the principle of God speaking to human beings.  How does hearing God really happen???

          All I can do is relate my own experiences and my own thoughts about the whole concept of listening to God.  I already gave one example from my own life <*here*>. 

          Actually, I don’t think the concept of hearing from God, or at least some outside influence, is that foreign to anyone.  We are all familiar with the cartoon character who is trying to decide what to do and has an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, both of them arguing with the character, trying to get him to make either a good or bad choice.  We don’t have to be told what that means because we’ve experience it ourselves.  We’ve had our own internal debates about what to do.  We have a sense that we are being pulled to the good or pulled to the bad.  We describe an “inner voice.”  What is that?  People who hear audible voices are often considered mentally unstable.  So why is hearing voices in our minds so normal?  We feel urges of all sorts that seem to come from outside our brains.  From where??

          Another thing we see in cartoons that immediately makes sense to us is the lightbulb above the character’s head.  We know what that means.  We’ve all experienced the “aha” moment.  An idea pops into our head.  From where?  Or we suddenly understand something that we’ve never understood before.  How?

          Well, if you are a good materialist and don’t believe the mind is anything more than neurons firing, then you won’t ascribe any of these concepts to anything other than…neurons firing.  What else could you ascribe it to?  You might say that some of these thoughts, ideas, daydreams, etc. are actually due to random neural activity.  If there is something fundamentally random in the universe, then it might affect neurons and occasionally they might just fire off a random thought.  Such an event must not be entirely common or otherwise our thoughts couldn’t be rational.  It could be that neurons fire randomly all the time but they are normally suppressed by all the rational thinking going on in our brains.  Who knows?  But, anyway, the point is, if there is no “mind” beyond neurons, then of course the whole idea that there could be a supernatural being – or even a “force” – influencing your thoughts is out of the question.

          But, as I’ve said before, that’s alocked door.  If you are a convinced materialist, then there is no reason to be trying these experiments as I’m describing them.  If no amount of evidence will change your mind, then why waste time looking for evidence to the contrary?

          So, if you want to continue, you’re going to have to open the door to what I’m about to tell you, and I think this may be the hardest door to open. 

Is it remotely possible that God could put thoughts in our minds?

The next entry will delve into that in more detail…but you’ll have to decide first whether the answer to that last question is at least a tentative yes.  If not, I don’t really see a way to continue on with the experimental approach.
I thought I would end this entry with an example from my own life – a case where I am convinced that God controlled my brain for a brief instant.  This occurred during my first month of undergraduate study at the University of Iowa.  This would have been the fall of 1979.  I had been invited to attend a meeting of Christian students that met every Tuesday evening in the student lounge area (I remember calling the building the “Student Union”, but I see it is officially called the “Iowa Memorial Union” building).  On the evening of the first meeting, I really wasn’t intending to go.  I hated meeting new people and I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to hang out with a bunch of Christians.  My nature would have been to put it off forever.  What I generally did in the evenings was to take my trombone and go practice in the music building.  That was much more fun. 
          The first Tuesday evening after I had been invited to this meeting, I had grabbed my trombone and I was headed off toward the music school.  It was a bit of a walk and it was also in the same direction as the Iowa Memorial Union where the Christian meeting was.  I don’t remember if maybe I had forgotten about the meeting and then remembered or if it was weighing on my mind as something I should do.  As I was walking along the path, there was a point at which the path literally made a Y-branch (for those of you who have been at U of Iowa, I was coming from Hillcrest Hall).  One branch headed off in the direction of the music school and the other branch headed off to the Union building.  A true “fork in the road.”  I remember that my feet just went toward the Union building.  I wasn’t making a decision to go.  It wasn’t really what I was intending to do – I mean, I had my trombone with me!  But my feet just took me there.  I felt powerless to stop it.  Ultimately, it was a critical life-changing event for me that evening.  I consider it a supernatural intervention in my brain.
          Of course it is possible that a random neuron fired, causing a chain of events that resulted in my going right instead of left on the path.  And it is possible that that random neuron just happened to fire at the right time as I approached that fork in the path.  I can’t argue that there could not be a possible natural explanation for what happened.  As I’ve mentioned before, I only present these personal experiences as examples of what happened to me in hopes that it will help you understand what I’m talking about.  But you have to have your own personal experience.  If your answer to the question above (in red) is a confident “no”, then you cannot have your own personal experience.  Hopefully you are fine with that.  All I can say is that you are missing out on an exciting adventure.


Saturday, December 10, 2016

Free Will #11 – Hints about random numbers

          This entry is just to provide some hints to the number series I presented in entry #10 on Free Will <*here*>.

          If you don’t want to see any hints, then don’t scroll down. 


Previously I presented this:


BOX A

1
0
1
0
1
0
1
0
0
0
1
0
1
1
1
0
1
0
1
1
0
1
0
1
1
1
1
0
1
0
1
0
1
0
0
1
1
0
1
0
1
0
1
0
1
1
0
1
0
0
0
0
1
0
0
0
1
0
1
1
0
0
0
1
0
1
0
1
0
1
0
1
1
0
1
0
1
1
1
0
1
0
1
0
1
0
1
1
0
0
1
0
1
0
1
0
1
0
0
1
1
0
1
1
1
0
1
0
0
1
0
1
1
0
0
1
1
1
0
1
0
0
1
0
0
1
0
0
1
0
0
1
0
0
1
1
0
1
0
0
1
0
1
0
1
1
1
1
1

1’s = 77/149 (51.7%)


BOX B

1
0
1
0
1
0
0
0
1
0
0
1
1
1
0
0
1
1
0
1
0
0
1
1
1
0
1
0
1
1
1
1
0
0
0
1
1
1
0
1
1
0
0
1
1
1
0
0
1
0
0
0
1
0
1
1
1
1
0
0
0
0
1
1
0
0
0
1
0
1
1
0
1
1
0
0
1
1
0
1
0
0
0
1
0
1
1
1
1
0
1
0
1
1
1
1
0
0
1
1
1
0
1
0
1
1
1
0
0
1
0
1
1
0
1
0
0
0
0
1
0
0
1
0
0
0
0
1
0
0
0
1
0
0
1
0
0
0
1
1
0
1
0
1
1
0
1
0
0


1’s = 74/149 (49.7%)


          I said I’d be interested if anyone can figure out which of the two series is the “encoded” one; and if so, how you figured it out.  Of course, it would be really impressive if someone could figure out the encoded message, but I think they would need a longer series to figure that out, even if I told you which one had the message. 






First Hint


The message is encoded as individual alphabetical letters.
Each letter is five bits.




Scroll down for more hints…



















Second Hint



There is a four bit flag to indicate whether the subsequent data is useful or gibberish.




















Third Hint



So, to be clear, the bits are arranged in groups of nine, where the first four bits combine to produce a flag and the last five bits are the data.  If the flag is up, then the next five bits are valid data indicating the next letter in the sentence.  If the flag is down, the next five bits can be ignored and you move to the next flag.

























Fourth Hint




The “real data” flag is “0101”.


























Fifth Hint



Letter coding is as follows:





































Sixth Hint




OK.  The message says “I am alive” and it is in Box A.



Note that with this method, you would have to know that you have the start of the message because everything is counted from that first bit.  So, I also imagined that there would be two “start/stop” five bit “letters”:  “10000” and “01111” that, when they appear, indicate that the subsequent four bits form one of the flags.  Thus, if you broke in the middle of intercepting this series, you could still figure out the starting point for the message by identifying a start and stop bit.

Hope that makes sense.

I think a computer could figure this out because of the likely high rate of the “0101” flag series at multiples of nine.  But, because of the flag, you can always add as much gibberish as you want, so I imagined that you could just add all of the four bit “non-flags” to match the frequency of the real flags.  That would mean that there would be 15 gibberish fields (9 bits) for every one real field. 

This series requires a “mind” to make it appear truly random.  By that I mean that you really have to keep track of a lot of things for the series to work.  For example, you can’t just generate random series of 9 bits for the gibberish because a random series will sometimes start with the “0101” series of bits, which you have reserved as a flag.  Also, depending on the letters in the sentence, if you want to maintain the overall random nature of the whole set, you have to select gibberish series that counteract whatever trends their might be in the data series.  For example, if you have a sentence with a lot of “X”s in it, which is encoded as “00001”, then your whole set will tend to be highly skewed to “0” bits unless your gibberish tends to have more “1” bits in it.  Obviously in any random series it doesn’t have to work out to exactly 50:50, but you have to keep running count of the characteristics of the series and add gibberish that tends to move those characteristics back to the characteristics of the totally random series.  This could be done by a computer program that tracks the characteristics of the series so far and then adjusts the random selection of bits by weighting the selection towards the desired characteristics.  Ultimately, you’d need to track not just the total ratio of “0” and “1”s, but also the rate of bit pairs, triplets, quadruplets, etc.  This concept is very inefficient in terms of the data delivered compared to the total bits delivered, but I’m not sure that efficiency is required for my original proposition.  The point is you could encode information in what otherwise seems to be random bits.  If there really is a fundamental quantum randomness to everything, how could it be proven that there is not information encoded in that randomness?

My original point was to address the question of whether free will could act, yet not violate basic physical laws like conservation of energy.  I guess others have postulated that free will just re-distributes energy without creating or destroying any, and essentially that is what I am proposing here.  The energy is redistributed so that it encodes real information.

In my example, free will would be very inefficient because it would spend most of “it’s” time re-distributing energy just to create gibberish that would be ignored.  But this is not a problem in my concept of free will.  I don’t believe free will is involved in most “decisions” that we make.  I think most of the time we live our lives in some kind of autopilot and we really don’t often “break out” of the cause and effect cycle.  I think that, to a large extend, our biological brain is a deterministic system with a bit of randomness thrown in.  On rare occasions our free will breaks through and actually influences a decision.  In fact, this might only happen a few times a day…or maybe it is even much rarer than that…maybe our free will only really steps in a few times in our life.  If we look back on our life, there are decision-points that really shape who we are, and in between there is a lot of just “living life” in which we are just responding to what is in front of us.

An interesting outcome of my suggested method of free will action is that whenever you do intervene with free will (i.e. when you do enter the “up” flag and then real data) there is a the need to “balance it out” with gibberish.  I think this matches the human experience pretty well.  When I do something really good for someone that is “out of my comfort zone”, I feel this sense that “ok – now I can go back to being my average self”.  And if I do something like three good deeds in a row, there is this sense that “ok – now I’m allowed to do something that is not so great.”  But maybe that’s going too far with my extrapolation here.  I have a feeling that I will have to revisit this thought many times and tighten it up ... or maybe abandon it entirely.