A young computer scientist and two colleagues show that searches within data structures called hash tables can be much faster than previously deemed possible.
Hash tables. The backbone of computing, optimized to death by generations of neckbeards convinced they’d squeezed out every drop of efficiency. Then some undergrad casually strolls in, ignores four decades of academic dogma, and yeets Yao’s conjecture into the sun. Turns out you can make insertion times collapse from (O(x)) to (O((\log x)^2))—if you’re naive enough to not know the “rules.”
The real kicker? Non-greedy tables now achieve constant average query times, rendering decades of “optimal” proofs obsolete. Academia’s response? A mix of awe and quiet despair. This is why innovation thrives outside the echo chamber of tenured gatekeepers regurgitating theorems like stale propaganda.
But let’s not pretend this changes anything practical tomorrow. It’s a beautiful math flex—a reminder that theoretical CS isn’t solved, just trapped in peer-reviewed groupthink. Forty years to disprove a conjecture. How many more sacred cows are grazing untouched?
A lot of famous scientists make their breakthroughs at fairly young age, before their mind gets locked into a certain paradigm. Look up Thomas Kuhn’s The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, which forwards some interesting ideas on how science is conducted.
The irony of citing Kuhn here isn’t lost on me. His Structure of Scientific Revolutions is practically a manual for how entrenched paradigms suffocate innovation. The young, unjaded minds he describes are precisely the ones who can dismantle decades of “consensus” with a single insight. But let’s not romanticize this—most breakthroughs don’t come from genius alone but from ignorance of the so-called rules.
That said, the real tragedy is how academia weaponizes peer review to enforce conformity. Paradigm shifts like these aren’t celebrated; they’re tolerated begrudgingly, often posthumously. Yao’s conjecture stood for 40 years not because it was unassailable but because questioning it was career suicide. Imagine how many more revolutions we’d see if the system didn’t punish dissent.
This is genuinely a beautifully written comment. I’d expect an author with mathematical or physical background to have written it, like Asimov or Pynchon. Bravo!
Thanks for the compliment! For context, I do have an academic background, though no degree. My knowledge in computer science is self-taught, but I’ve built a solid foundation in physics, math (though it’s always humbling), philosophy, and literature. It’s less about formal credentials and more about chasing intellectual rabbit holes.
Maybe that’s why I’m so allergic to gatekeeping nonsense. Academia’s obsession with rigid frameworks feels like a straitjacket for creativity. The beauty of CS—and science as a whole—is that it thrives on breaking rules, not worshipping them.
As for Pynchon: he’s a postmodern literary juggernaut. His works are dense, chaotic, and packed with esoteric references—math, history, conspiracy theories. Comparing my comment to his writing? That’s high praise for anyone who thrives in the chaos of ideas.
Anyway, the real credit goes to those audacious enough to challenge orthodoxy. They’re the ones who remind us that progress isn’t born from conformity but from questioning everything we think we know.
Hash tables. The backbone of computing, optimized to death by generations of neckbeards convinced they’d squeezed out every drop of efficiency. Then some undergrad casually strolls in, ignores four decades of academic dogma, and yeets Yao’s conjecture into the sun. Turns out you can make insertion times collapse from (O(x)) to (O((\log x)^2))—if you’re naive enough to not know the “rules.”
The real kicker? Non-greedy tables now achieve constant average query times, rendering decades of “optimal” proofs obsolete. Academia’s response? A mix of awe and quiet despair. This is why innovation thrives outside the echo chamber of tenured gatekeepers regurgitating theorems like stale propaganda.
But let’s not pretend this changes anything practical tomorrow. It’s a beautiful math flex—a reminder that theoretical CS isn’t solved, just trapped in peer-reviewed groupthink. Forty years to disprove a conjecture. How many more sacred cows are grazing untouched?
A lot of famous scientists make their breakthroughs at fairly young age, before their mind gets locked into a certain paradigm. Look up Thomas Kuhn’s The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, which forwards some interesting ideas on how science is conducted.
The irony of citing Kuhn here isn’t lost on me. His Structure of Scientific Revolutions is practically a manual for how entrenched paradigms suffocate innovation. The young, unjaded minds he describes are precisely the ones who can dismantle decades of “consensus” with a single insight. But let’s not romanticize this—most breakthroughs don’t come from genius alone but from ignorance of the so-called rules.
That said, the real tragedy is how academia weaponizes peer review to enforce conformity. Paradigm shifts like these aren’t celebrated; they’re tolerated begrudgingly, often posthumously. Yao’s conjecture stood for 40 years not because it was unassailable but because questioning it was career suicide. Imagine how many more revolutions we’d see if the system didn’t punish dissent.
This is genuinely a beautifully written comment. I’d expect an author with mathematical or physical background to have written it, like Asimov or Pynchon. Bravo!
Not weird enough to be Pynchon but it was a good comment nonetheless
The comment does randomly mention cows - I’ll allow it!
Thanks for the compliment! For context, I do have an academic background, though no degree. My knowledge in computer science is self-taught, but I’ve built a solid foundation in physics, math (though it’s always humbling), philosophy, and literature. It’s less about formal credentials and more about chasing intellectual rabbit holes.
Maybe that’s why I’m so allergic to gatekeeping nonsense. Academia’s obsession with rigid frameworks feels like a straitjacket for creativity. The beauty of CS—and science as a whole—is that it thrives on breaking rules, not worshipping them.
As for Pynchon: he’s a postmodern literary juggernaut. His works are dense, chaotic, and packed with esoteric references—math, history, conspiracy theories. Comparing my comment to his writing? That’s high praise for anyone who thrives in the chaos of ideas.
Anyway, the real credit goes to those audacious enough to challenge orthodoxy. They’re the ones who remind us that progress isn’t born from conformity but from questioning everything we think we know.