Saturday, May 15, 2010
So long, Blogger! (sort of)
Actually that happened a few weeks ago. After continually encountering issues with Blogger, I decided to move my blog to WordPress. Perhaps this is a cardinal sin of blogging; if so, I hope you'll forgive me and visit me at my new place and update your blogroll. For the time being, I will keep old posts and continue moderating comments here (although I hope to eventually migrate everything). A new post is no up at WordPress!
Updated 8/4/10
In case you land here via who knows where, I'm now blogging at LabSpaces. Drop by for a visit, and you might just find some familiar faces and new favorites!
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Power(Point) Corrupts?
We Have Met the Enemy and He Is PowerPoint
The story is about the near obsessive use of PowerPoint presentations in military briefings. It found it both fascinating and entertaining--there are some really fantastic quips and phrases coined by officers regarding the Powerpoint epidemic. Among others, I found this sentence particularly striking:Commanders say that behind all the PowerPoint jokes are serious concerns that the program stifles discussion, critical thinking and thoughtful decision-making.Although the topics we discuss do not carry the same weight, I could not help but think that we should perhaps have the same concerns about the PowerPoint (or, for the elite few who have broken free of the chains of Microsoft, Keynote) treatment of our research. PowerPoint infiltrates every data presentation time from conference talks to group meetings. It certainly has its utility and, when applied effectively, can bring order and clarity to a presentation that perhaps cannot be achieved by other means.
But how often does that happen?
Instead we end up in lecture mode: the presenter saying "As you can see here...", "I'll address that in a few moments", etc; the audience, at best, following the linear order of the presentation, expecting their question to be addressed momentarily or, at worst, switching to nap mode. And some of the atrocious slides make it all the more difficult to really think critically about what's being said.
What do you say? Does PowerPoint ever interfere with the discussion of science?
And whilst we discuss this bane of our profession, I think a poll is in order!
Note: Apologies for the technical difficulties. Thanks to several tweeps for letting me know! Sorting them out as I can. Thanks for your patience :)
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Scientiae Carnival, April Edition: Sustainability
The theme for the spring 2010 national meeting of the American Chemical Society is Chemistry for a Sustainable World.There have been a number of reports, op eds, and blog posts about a diverse range of challenges in science. This phrase prompted me to see them as questions of sustainability. Whether discussing an individual career, a lab, funding, the academic research system, publishing, peer-review, or scientific innovation, at the heart of the issue is often the question of whether current practices are sustainable and what changes need to be made to ensure sustainability. This also brings the theme of April's carnival. From an individual to a more global perspective, definitions, successes, diversity, barriers... what makes--or breaks--sustainability in science?Wikipedia provides a great, simple definition of sustainability as "the capacity to endure". A central connotation for this word in today's society revolves around the impact of humans on the environment. Often it's very subtle things--and simple solutions--that affect the world we live in. Aspiring ecologist Karina points to the problem of deforestation that will continue until alternative fuels are readily accessible for everyone. Amanda considers the footprint left by the research we do every day and how we (and vendors) can reduce the size of that footprint.
There are also many issues concerning the sustainability of our professional and our personal lives. We can learn lessons in sustainability by looking at the lives of role models, and Pat at the Fairer Science blog highlights some of her role model in computing. JaneB suggests a way to assess variability in our lives and careers and how we can use it to understand what doesand doesn't work and the signs along the way. Many women in STEM have done just as part of the "Message 2 a Younger Me" series at Under the Microscope.
Dr. O broaches the subject of sustaining her personal energy levels given the many demands placed on her. She reminds us that balance isn't about splitting each day or week evenly, but instead it is a dynamic thing that often involves temporarily sacrificing time in one area to focus intensely on another. A similar sentiment was expressed by Elizabeth Blackburn in an interview with ScienceNOW late last year. (You can check out highlights and full audio from the interview with the 2009 female Nobel laureates.)
However, Melissa of Confused at a Higher Level finds that this idea of striking balance, even of this give-and-take sort, runs counter to the "ideal worker" norm that is emphasized in academia and points out that the pressure does not diminish with seniority. Unfortunately, this "norm" is amplified for women in STEM because the burden of proof remains higher for female scientists as compared to their male counterparts. Ms. PhD points readers to Why So Few?, a recent report from the American Association of University Women (there is great, succinct summary of the report by DrDoyenne at the Women in Wetlands blog). Ms. PhD boils down the answer a la Mastercard style. Before you get into the comments at her post, I will offer this advice from Ms. PhD:
Just as we see disproportionate representation of women at institutions around the world, the same is seen at conferences and forums the world over. Kylie at Podblack Cat has noticed the disparity at recent meetings and considers what barriers may hinder participation by women and minorities and what audiences can do about it. At Apple Pie and the Universe, Alyssa shares a view from the planning side; she highlights a few interesting, if disturbing, points in working to include women panelists.
In the end, a large part of sustainability--of the environment, careers, diversity--is about evaluating the situation, weighing the options, and figuring out whether or not we're moving toward a sustainable goal. On that note, I leave you with some words from Kenny Rogers.
Thanks to all of this month's contibutors! I hope that you find some posts (and maybe some new blogs) that get you thinking about sustainability in your life. If you run across any pertinent posts not linked here, feel free to leave them in the comments section. And keep an eye out for next month's theme at Scientiae Carnival.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Knowing when
But there's something else you have to learn along the way. It's not something you can learn from a book, a journal, or a mentor. It's something you can only truly from experience: how to read a situation and decide whether you should stay the course or walk away. Sometimes it's an experiment or a project. Sometimes it's a career path or a step along it. Most scientists I know are stubborn--I am one of the worst. We simply don't like the idea of "giving up" or "failing". This can be a useful trait, yet there are times when leaving the table is the best decision we can make. If we want to stay in the game for the long haul, we better learn how to play. I leave you with the immortal words of Kenny Rogers... backed up by some Muppets.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Reminder: Last day for April Scientiae Carnival submissions
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Hiatus?
I will still be hosting April's edition of the Scientiae Carnival. The deadline for submissions is only a week away! Check here for this month's theme and how to submit your post.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Open thread: Quantity vs. Impact
So here's a question for you, readers:
- Which is better: one publication in a glamor mag (as in the Cell/Nature/Science families) vs. two publications in a highly reputable but lower impact factor journal (say along the lines of JBC)?
here. So perhaps the better questions are:
- What factors impact your decision, and how so?
Finally, if you decide to go for the Glamor Mag publication, how many times to you appeal a rejection before deciding to move on?
Thursday, March 4, 2010
I hate it when you're right
That statement surprised Paramed because he'd never heard me express any doubt about where I would end up in my career. It was also not an easy thing for me to say aloud because, as irrational as it may seem, it felt like I was giving up a little bit--though when Paramed voiced that same sentiment, I denied it. He asked what I would do, if not what I've been working toward for years. I responded, "I don't know. There are a lot of options. But I do know that I don't want to stay at the bench if I'm just going to be treated like a set of hands the rest of my life."
"Do you feel that you're treated that way here?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied. "Guru has told me exactly what experiments to do. Before I can even finish a set of experiments and think about where to go from there, he's telling me the next set of experiments that I should do. I don't even know what the big picture is; I've asked and all I got was a bullshit answer." I should note here that as a grad student, I was expected to design my own experiments, to take ownership of my project. Bear still had a hand in guiding the project, but he did this largely by asking questions to get me thinking about it, recommending priority order for experiments that I designed, and sometimes suggesting experiments but in a more abstract manner, leaving the design and interpretation to me for the most part. Perhaps I am idealizing my past experiences, but I have always been more committed to and excited about projects that requires critical thinking (outside of technical troubleshooting) and interpretation. I thought that's similar to what I would get here, but it turns out Guru is a micromanager--and I don't respond well to micromanagement. Anyway, back to the story at hand...
The ensuing argument revolved around the following main points:
- Paramed was pissed that Guru was making me doubt myself.
- Paramed was pissed that I was not being assertive and implied that I should stand up for myself and call Guru out when he's spouting bullshit.
- I was pissed that Paramed was telling me that I was doubting myself and that he was telling me what I should do.
- I was pissed also pissed that he was not accepting my excuses for me not being assertive.
- There was back and forth about the correlation coefficient between amount of listening vs. amount of ranting on both sides.
Of course, after I had calmed down and started thinking about what was said, I realized what had really pissed me off so much: the fact that Paramed was right. Or rather that what he said was true. It kills me that I've fallen back into being so polite and diminutive that I don't take a stand, that I've allowed that monstrous self-doubt to creep back in. I felt that I left grad school as a confident scientist, but I no longer feel that. And it was tough to be forced to admit it. Paramed can be brutally honest--which is a great trait and yet often painful at the same time. I am reminded of an insightful post and am now at the point where I "sack the fuck up and feele extremely grateful for his penetrating insights". Next to decide what to do about it.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Scientiae Carnival Call for Posts: Sustainable Science
Many thanks to Amanda for hosting the March edition of the Scientiae Carnival. If you haven't already seen it, go check out people's thoughts on continuity in science. I am thrilled to be hosting the carnival in April and look forward to reading all the submissions. Even though the carnival broadly covers the topic of women in STEM, anyone is welcome to contribute. In fact, one of my favorite dude bloggers, Abel Pharmboy, hosted last year. Now on to this month's topic...
The theme for the spring 2010 national meeting of the American Chemical Society is Chemistry for a Sustainable World.There have been a number of reports, op eds, and blog posts about a diverse range of challenges in science. This phrase prompted me to see them as questions of sustainability. Whether discussing an individual career, a lab, funding, the academic research system, publishing, peer-review, or scientific innovation, at the heart of the issue is often the question of whether current practices are sustainable and what changes need to be made to ensure sustainability. This also brings the theme of April's carnival. From an individual to a more global perspective, definitions, successes, diversity, barriers... what makes--or breaks--sustainability in science?
To submit posts to the carnival, please email the permalink URL of your post to scientiaecarnival [a] gmail [dt] com by 11:59 pm on Monday, March 29. I will try to have the carnival posted here by 11:59 pm on April 1. I'm looking forward to reading some more great posts!
Sunday, February 28, 2010
File with leprechauns, elves, and the Easter bunny
Myth #1: You have to do a postdoc.
Negative, ghost rider. As a grad student nearing the end of your PhD work, you adviser will almost invariably talk to you about looking for a postdoc position--and from my colleagues' and my own experience, s/he will rarely mention other options. I suspect the reason behind this is that (a) it's what they know because it's what they did and/or (b) they assume all grad students are planning to head down the research track, if not the tenure track. If you have a pretty good idea of the path you want to forge, and you know it isn't the tenure track, then it's worth questioning this dogma. Talk to people in the positions you want to pursue; find out how important doing a postdoc is-or isn't.
Myth #2: There is only one type of postdoc-the academic research postdoc.
Most likely, when you hear the word "postdoc", you think of a PhD working at the bench in a lab with other postdocs and grad students at a research university. However, there are several different flavors of postdoc. You can do a research postdoc in a government lab or with a biotech or pharma company. If you're interested in teaching, there are postdoc fellowships and programs that mix teaching and research or focus on science education instead of research. You can even do a research postdoc at a predominantly undergrad institute; this grants the advantage of working with undergrads on a day-to-day basis. Plus some PUI departments, instead of hiring an adjunct for a semester, first offer postdocs the opportunity to fill open courses. I will confess that I know little about these other types of postdoc positions, as I am the typical research postdoc, but they do exist.
Myth #3: The only reason to do a research postdoc is to take a crack at the tenure track.
Another confession: I once thought that the only sensible reason for doing a postdoc was if you wanted to stay in academia and start your own lab. Sure, some people changed their mind along the way, but what was the point of doing a postdoc if you knew, upfront, that you didn't want your own lab? Turns out this is an absolutely ridiculous view. There are actually several career paths for which a research postdoc is preferred, if not required. Over lunch with trainees, the executive editor of a glamor mag (the science type, not the fashion type) commented that when hiring new editors, they liked seeing postdoc experience, especially in a field different from the applicant's PhD work. The reasoning, I gather, is that an editor should have some idea of how science is done and should be broadly trained, as a vast array of topics will be crossing his/her desk. So you go do a research postdoc, and after a year or two, you decide you're done with bench work; there are many places, both in and outside of academia, where that postdoc might help you get the job you really want.
These are major preconceptions that affect how grad students, postdocs, and advisers view and approach the postdoc. If they continue to be perpetuated, then it is going to be tough to have a productive conversation on the subject. What other urban legends about the postdoc need to be put to rest?
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Consistency along an unpredictable path
Continuity. As scientists, it's something most of us seek each day with every experiment. We look for consistency in our results, and when it is missing, we go back to see what went wrong. We search for those self-consistent details in our system, and if something does not meet expectations, we begin thinking of possible explanations, alternative interpretations, missing pieces of the puzzle.
Yet I sometimes have trouble identifying continuity in my life. My early career has sometimes felt like a random walk, bouncing between cities, adding and merging disciplines and skills, tweaking the path of my research and my career, sometimes making big decisions largely on the basis of a gut feeling. The last two or more years have been especially difficult, bringing doubt and guilt about choices I made regarding my career and my family. What seemed at times to be constant change and continual doubt was absolutely disorienting.
There has been one constant through this insanity: my husband, Paramed. Many people talk about the two-body problem--the challenge of organizing and executing two independent career paths, preferably in the same or nearby cities. It's stressful, frustrating, exhausting but can also be exciting and satisfying when things come together; sometimes it's a mix of all these thing. But there can be advantages to this "problem". I haven't had to worry about finding a roommate. There's someone around to help out with the laundry and cooking when I'm swamped...
Most importantly, I get to come home and talk to my best friend nearly every day. And that has been integral to maintaining another essential aspect of continuity in my life: staying true to myself. Training and work--from elementary school to EMS work to research--bring out the type A personality in me. I put a lot of myself into my work--some might say too much. I expect as much, if not more, of myself as my advisers have and do. From my viewpoint, this, in and of itself, is not necessarily a bad thing. But some institutions (like the one I'm in now) have a reputation for changing people--and not in a good way. Or maybe it's just the training process in general that changes people. I don't know. It's easy to become mired in politics, to let the stress get to you, to lash out because of your own insecurities. These things have happened to me and sometimes still do. Paramed knows me well enough to see when this is happening. He has listened to me rant and vent and cry. He has provided encouragement. He has told me when I'm being ridiculous or out of line or wrong (trust me not easy--I was born a red-head, and a stubborn one at that). He has asked me the questions I refused to ask myself. In short, he has been my minder, my Sam, the one who reminds me who I really am. Who I am is just as important as what I do. With help from my friend, I hope that is something that will remain consistent through out my life.
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This is my contribution for the Scientiae Carnival. There are still a few days to submit, so go forth and blog! :)
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Relationship questions
Whilst I am furiously seeing how hard I can push my computer before crashing it (aka processing and analyzing a few GB of data in multiple programs), I thought I'd leave my readers with a few questions. Feel free to elaborate in the comments section.
Right. Now back to crashing the computer (it really does sound like it's going to fly across the room).
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Please standby
This morning I get an email from Guru wanting some data for a grant... due next week. I just started working on the project last month. Some of the data requires a little more processing and analysis but can be ready within a day. The other data is more problematic. The experiment has been done, but the data doesn't look great. No one in our lab has worked on this particular model, and it was my first time doing it, so things are far from perfect. I can try to salvage something from it, but it's not really grant quality material, in my opinion. As an aside, I explained the problem to Guru and received a response that there is an art to technique that is an integral part of the experiment, and I should talk to Jack and Jill who have experience with it. He couldn't mention that before I had already done the entire experiment.
Anyway, a critical element for repeating the experiment has been unavailable and was just ordered Friday. I think I'll be able to start the experiment about midweek, and then it will take 3 to 4 long days to crank through. I had already planned to repeat the experiment. Now I'm just doing it on a compressed timetable. So if I disappear from the blogosphere for the next week or two, it's not that I've fallen off the face of the planet. I'm just chained to my bench or sequestered in a dark windowless room, trying to hang on to my sanity.
Best of luck to everyone else this week!
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Critical reading vs. reading critically
This was the statement of a colleague--we'll call him Ronald--upon seeing a manuscript on my desk. To my knowledge, he had not read the paper, or even the abstract, just the title. It was not groundbreaking work by any stretch, but it was a nice little methods paper published in a methods journal. It seems that part of Ronald's disdain derived from the fact that he had used the same reagent to label the same tissue for a slightly different technique. Since it was such an obvious and simple method, which Ronald and others in his previous lab had used under other conditions, clearly it was unworthy of publication*.*When something pisses me off, I am prone to using hyperbole--extensively, as you may note here. Although the statements here are not as absolute as I make them seem, the sentiments therein ring true.
Normally I get along quite well with Ronald, but that simple statement pissed me off, perhaps because it is just one example of a attitude among many postdocs at BRI and, I suspect, science in general. Almost inevitably discussion of a paper or seminar focuses on everything that's "wrong" with it: how they did the wrong experiments, used the wrong model, how limited the scope of the study is, that it's not novel or groundbreaking work... Sometimes they have perfectly valid points, but they seem to dismiss the value of the publication because it's not what they would do. They spend a lot of time thinking about how to invalidate the study and ignore its positive contribution to the field. There are a few exceptions: papers published in top journals of the field (unless published on study in direct competition with their own work) and papers published by colleagues and non-competing collaborators.
In graduate school, we are supposed to learn to read the scientific literature critically. The issue is what that means. Many people--especially trainees--use the first definition of critical: "inclined to find fault or to judge with severity, often too readily". We should be using the third definition: "involving skillful merit as to truth, merit, etc.". We're supposed to be looking for good and bad, right and wrong, founded and unfounded, and all degrees in between. When we finish reading the fucking paper, we should have a clear idea of what the results actually demonstrate, the caveats, and its utility, its contribution to the field.
Scientific publishing, in theory, is about the dissemination of knowledge. Some papers are going to change how we think about science or fill in large gaps of a given question or pathway. But not all papers will be "paradigm changing". Some papers reaffirm and expand upon what we already know; these are critical because, as we have seen time and again, there is usually something wrong with the process if no one can reproduce the results of another lab. Some papers alternative interpretations; even if in the end the alternative is wrong, these should help prevent development of tunnel vision, becoming so enamored of our own hypothesis that we become blinded to other possibilities. And some papers are reports of "simple" methods; these keep us from having to reinvent the wheel every time we do a new experiment and sometimes provide faster/cheaper/more sensitive methods than we had in our repertoire. The vast majority of manuscripts are not going to be published in the Cell/Nature/Science families of journals; this does not mean they are useless. It's time for postdocs (and maybe other scientists as well) to reevaluate how we read papers and determine the worth of a publication.
As an aside for those with access to EMBO Reports, I recommend checking out System Crash, a Science & Society piece about how emphasis on high impact publications and focus on short-term gains are affecting science.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Into the void
Oftentimes grad students and postdocs don't speak up, at least not with advisers. On an earlier post about establishing mentor and mentee expectations, DrDoyenne relayed her husbands feeling that trainees "failed to ask questions about what was expected of them or to speak up when they did not understand something". This is equally applicable to other areas of interaction with our advisers. We have a tendency to hide behind a mountain of excuses, and we lose out.
Widening the gap
Many times, when we fail to speak our mind or ask questions, we widen the communication gap between us and our advisers. So why do we do it? I briefly highlighted some reasons in my earlier response to DrDoyenne, but here are a few (expanded) contributing factors in my mind.
Village idiot/impostor* syndrome
*"Impostor" added in response to an excellent point by PhDamned
When you're starting in a new lab and/or new field, you sometimes feel like the village idiot. You don't know all the techniques, the terminology, the data from years of research that have pushed a project forward, the status quo on lab meeting presentations, typical expectations, and so on. You don't want to ask the obvious questions--whether or not they are, in fact, obvious to everyone. When you're the n00b, you can get away with some things, but you're not really sure where the line is. This is exaggerated when you're a postdoc because you already have the Ph.D., which means you should know some of this stuff; at least this is what you tell yourself. So you sit quietly, trying to understand what's going on, feeling completely lost.
Mule syndrome
Science selects for trainees possessing some sense of independence and persistence. This statement contains more truthiness, if you've decided to follow the tenure track. Independence and persistence are good--in the appropriate context. However, some of us could be described as stubborn as mules, which sometimes keeps us from asking for help when we need it.
High IF
Not impact factor, but intimidation factor. For some, speaking to anyone in a position of authority, is enough to silence them. This is feeling can be intensified by the adviser's standing in the institution/field (big cheese=high IF) or a trainee's perception of the adviser's personality. Regardless of the reason, when we feel intimidated, we tend to avoid interactions, especially if we are bringing in problems instead of solutions. And when we are forced into interactions, we hold back.
Past is present
We are all human, which means we carry our experiences and memories into current and future situations. If we've had difficult interactions with our current adviser or an adviser in the past, then we are hesitant to risk putting ourselves in a similar situation again. We also look to colleagues' interactions with our advisers. We hear "horror" stories from past or current lab members about how critical/apathetic/irrational/(insert your own key word) the PI is in one-on-one interactions with them. We sometimes let these shape our own interactions with our advisers--missing the point that other lab members' interactions and perceptions are colored by their own personality and experiences.
Other planet complex
This is a point we've touched on previously. Sometimes we connect with our advisers. We speak and she/he understands what we're saying and vice-versa. Other times it's almost as though we are on different planets speaking different languages. It's frustrating. We think we know what our advisers want/are asking and respond accordingly, only to realize they want something else entirely--and we can't figure out what that is.
Bridging the chasm
The communication gap between adviser and trainee must be closed if we're to have a productive and long-lasting relationship, something which will impact our careers. How do we do that? That's one I'm still working on, but this is my view so far: Try to figure out the major cause for the gap and adapt. There are some things we cannot change, like our past experiences or our advisers' personalities, but we can change how we react to them. For instance, I have to remind myself that Guru is a very different adviser than Bear, and I need to adjust how I communicate with him. We can also look to colleagues that do seem to communicate effectively and evaluate what they do differently.
In all this, though, we have to keep a clear idea of the purpose for this relationship. This isn't about making your adviser a drinking buddy or establishing a "sunshine and rainbows and lollipops" relationship with him/her. For me, this is about making me a better scientist and future mentor. I will not always like what Guru (or any other adviser) has to say; the critical point is that I appropriately interpret what he's saying and that I find my voice and make sure it's heard.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Choices: Graduate program edition
The whole process can be overwhelming. I was pretty clueless going in. I knew I wanted to pursue biological chemistry research. I had found professors whose research I was interested in. Beyond that, I didn't know what to expect or what I was looking for in a graduate program.
My undergraduate training was at a mid-sized state school in a small department, which encompassed chemistry and biochemistry. My experience and interactions there certainly influenced my views of what I wanted. I gravitated toward programs that had a similar atmosphere. This meant programs that were highly collaborative and multi-disciplinary in practice. I was weary of departments and labs in which PIs talked about collaborations with people across the country or half way around the world, but never mentioned working with colleagues in the department. I recently described my philosophy regarding divisions between disciplines and subfields of chemistry and biology, a philosophy I held even as a prospective Ph.D. student. I felt then (and still do) that it is difficult to integrate and advance related disciplines if a department imposes rigid barriers between them. I realized later that the rigid structure often went along with a seeming lack of collaboration within the department. I also stayed away from programs in which there seemed to be a great deal of tension between students and their PIs. This was largely rooted in a lack of self-confidence. I could not envision myself going head-to-head with an adviser on a regular basis, nor could I imagine being silent or deferential during repetitive conflicts, especially those unrelated to research. I also could not see myself doing well in a cutthroat department.
I heeded the advice of my undergrad professors. Dr. D told me to find the student who had been in the program the longest, who would have the most experience with the program, the most reason to be bitter, and usually the most honest responses. If you talk to that person and he or she doesn't regret joining the program, then that's a good sign. I did just this on my visit to PSU. Someone else suggested asking basically everyone I met about the typical length of a Ph.D. in their program and how long they had been there. In chemistry, an average beyond five years was viewed as problematic. An issue that revealed itself was that many programs stop providing funding to students after six years; in some of the same programs, it was not unusual to take that long or longer to complete a Ph.D.
Dr. K, another undergrad instructor, counseled me to not pick a program if there were not at least two advisers that I could see myself working for. Although Bear was my first choice for mentor, I saw the wisdom of this advice play out in my program. There are several reasons you might (have to) pass on your first choice PI. You might realize that you'd rather be mauled by hyenas than work for your "dream" adviser once you do a rotation in his/her lab. A PI's funding situation may not allow him/her to take a new student the year you arrive; hopefully this is something you would know before choosing a program, but there is no guarantee. If the PI has a tenure review and doesn't get it, he/she may choose to go somewhere else. Or there may be a high level of interest in a given subfield the year you join. Among my first year colleagues, there were 8 people vying for 6 spots in three labs. Needless to say, two didn't get into the labs they wanted. One of them found a suitable alternative; the other postponed joining a lab for almost another year. The point is things happen, so it's good to have more than one option.
Looking back, perhaps one of the most important things about the application process was figuring out what I really wanted. The questions I asked myself were just as important as the ones I asked others. What was most important to me: sexy science or sanity? What was I willing to compromise on? Was an ultra-competitive or a collaborative environment right for me? I spent time thinking about my experience and my level of comfort and confidence. As a prospective grad student, I didn't have much of any of those. I chose the program where I could see myself succeeding at research that excited, where I would learn from my instructors, my adviser, and other labs. It was a good program--a great one in my book, actually--but not the "best" of my choices (at least according to the U.S. News and World Report). But in hindsight, it was the best program from me. I went in as a timid undergrad but left as a confident scientist. And that's what it should really be about.
Monday, January 18, 2010
The future of the Scientiae carnival
If you're new to the blogosphere (and maybe even if you're not), Scientiae is a monthly carnival built around stories of and from women in STEM. It's been going for three years now, but of late, contributions have been dropping off. So what is to become of Scientiae? skookumchick writes:
So the question arises: is there still value to having Scientiae? Or should we shut it down as a great community-building tool whose time has come to be let go?Several bloggers, including myself, would like to see it continue. Among the commenters, there are enough volunteers for hosting to cover almost the entire year. But jokerine comments:
The trouble is, just wanting to read it isn't enough. I want to read it too, but I hardly contribute anymore and I was a horrible host. Hosting isn't any fun if there are no submissions.Carnivals die without contributions. In response, I have pledged to contribute to the carnival at least seven times in the next year, should it continue. I chose this number because of my blogging frequency and my interest in previous carnival topics. I also want to point out that, even though the focus of the carnival is women in STEM, anyone is invited to contribute. Learn more about the carnival, then voice, er type, your opinion about the fate of Scientiae. Personally I hope we can keep this community carnival going :)
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Put on your game face
Here's the thing about science: It's done by humans, which means human nature enters into the equation. There are two dicta of human interactions, which complicate things:
- Where two or more people are gathered together, there also shall be disagreement.
- Where four or more people are gathered together, there also shall be factions.
Navigating politics can be a challenge. If you're new to a lab, the dividing line is not always clear, as chall points out. Honestly, this may not be a bad thing; it's easier to stay out of the politics in this situation. Being a veteran in a lab is not always beneficial because the politics can bog you down. They can sap a lot of energy and focus out of you that would be best spent on other things. Trust me. I went there in Bear's lab; it was exhausting and infuriating. There reached a point when things in my life outside of the lab were taking so much energy that I couldn't afford to put any more into frustrated factions. I was far more focused when that happened.
This does not mean we can completely ignore the politics of science and units therein, but we do have to learn the rules of the game and how to choose our battles. Here are a few things I've interpreted from experience and observation during my relatively short time in science (in no particular order):
- If you're at an early career stage, tread carefully, but...
- Occasionally you have to show someone that you will not be his/her doormat.
- You can get by with a lot until you piss off one of these people: the lab manager, the lab admin, or the PI.
- Try not to burn bridges. Any given field of science is a small world after all. You never know when you might be working with/near/for someone you thought you'd never see again.
- You have to be seen. In a meeting with grad students following a seminar at PSU, Ben Cravatt shared one lesson he wished he had learned before starting his independent career. He commented that he thought working hard and doing great science would be enough to get the high profile publications and funding. He realized shortly thereafter that he had to be seen; he needed to go to meetings and present his work, so that he could connect with the people that would be reviewing his manuscripts and grants and begin to establish name recognition. In short, build a network.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Question for readers
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Now, for something completely different...
We've been trying to change our habits this month. We're getting up earlier. We're eating healthier foods. We've worked out every day. These things along have improved our moods and energy level. Paramed has started working in a biochem lab where he is working on his B.S. in biochem (yes, I'm a terrible influence :P), where he's been doing protein purification this week (prior to the start of classes). He seems to be enjoying it.
And I am having a blast in the lab these days. After we returned from holiday travels, I started learning all sorts of new things. The focus of my project has shifted from an in vitro model, which we have not successfully validated, to an in vivo model. The in vivo model has been characterized and is used by some collaborators in a very different context. There are many questions remaining that are of great interest to Guru and me. I've never done in vivo studies, but this was a major thing that I wanted to learn in my postdoc. Now I'm doing it. Even better, we can use intravital microscopy in this model, which (1) has not been used in this model, (2) has the potential to unmask kinetics of events, (3) is just plain sexy, and (4) gives me the chance to work with a colleague that I get on with really well. After basically an aggregate week of training with said colleague, I'm flying solo. Keep in mind this is all new to me, so I can't believe that I'm doing small animal surgery and imaging. We started running preliminary experiments this week. There are still a lot of data and samples to process, but things are looking promising. And Guru is quite excited about developing the model for intravital microscopy. So things are good, despite working late and spending most of my time this week alone in a cold, dark, windowless room and not having much time to eat lunch... or in this case tonight, dinner*. I'm actually enjoying it! I'm excited about my research!! A great way to start a new year. Hopefully this will set the tone for the months to come.
*If I fail to make sense here, I blame the sensory deprivation, lack of food, or lack of human contact... or some combination of the three :)
Gold Standard Records
This is just one situation that illustrates the importance of fastidious data management in research laboratories, an issue that might be one of the biggest weaknesses of academic research labs.
Back to basics
Let's start with the lab book. This is where most of us (and I include myself here) need to go back to the first day of gen chem. Anything that goes into the book should be legible and coherent. And we should be writing down everything--well, at least everything pertinent to the experiment (your successors don't really need to know what you had for breakfast or how hungover you are). This includes:
- why you're doing the experiment (a.k.a. the objective)
- the experimental setup and procedure including pesky things like recording concentrations of reagents, volumes for injections, the solvent or buffer used for dilutions, instrument and settings used... You catch my drift.
- raw data (or reference to its location)
- locations of data files, including physical location, directory, folder, file names
- how data was processed
- final results (i.e. the pretty graph or table)
- conclusions and/or notes for future experiments
We should also be writing in the book as we work, whenever possible. Too often, we place faith in our memory or our complex system of notes on post-its, paper towels, and gloves. We become slack in maintaining our books, updating them every few days, or maybe even once a week... or less. Then as we're updating our books, we realize we're a little fuzzy on the details... or that we mistakenly tossed that glove in the trash because we thought it was rubbish... so we end up guessing or trying to back-calculate how much of X we added. Not good.
Finally, don't forget to index it! Those wonderfully detailed, coherent notes won't do anyone much good if they can't find it. Chances are, you don't need me to tell you how much of a PITA it is to dig through years of data and notebooks with no idea where you should be looking.
Data in the digital age
The thing about gen chem, at least when I took it, it was beautifully simplistic. I think there was maybe one lab in the entire year that used a probe connected to a computer. The same goes for every chemistry and most biology lab courses that I took as an undergrad. It was simple enough to put everything in a notebook then. As we advance to higher level research, though, the game changes. There's proteomics, FACS, real-time intravital imaging, and a myriad of other techniques that generate massive amounts of data. While working on this post, I was collecting about 5 GB of data... for a one replicate in one group of one experiment. Raw data from such experiments do not lend themselves to hard copy production. They only exist in the digital world. So we must be as fastidious in organizing and maintaining digital records as we are in maintaining our lab books.
Backup plan
I think we have lived in the digital age long enough to realize that sometimes computers die, and despite IT's best efforts, cannot be resuscitated. This is why we should be backing up all of our data files on a regular basis. Both Bear's and Guru's labs keep external hard drives around for this purpose. Some labs may have access to network storage through their institutes. Generally space is fairly limited, but this is fine, if you're not generating gigabytes of data on a daily basis.
When it comes to backups, though, one thing we don't think about so much is our physical lab books and data. However, there is the possibility of fire or flood in the lab destroying our research records. Or they might just sort of wander off. I have yet to see a lab that uses duplicator notebooks or that photocopies or scans notebook pages, but it's probably not a bad idea. Lab books, after all, are the primary record of everything that's been done in the lab.
Safeguard
A peculiarity of data management is that many PIs don't talk about it. In my graduate and postdoc labs, on my first day, someone showed me where the new notebooks were kept. That was it. When I left my graduate lab, I just told the lab manager where my lab books were stored. It seems PIs assume that scientists--whether students or postdocs or research associates--know how to fill out a lab book and keep data organized. Perhaps PIs anticipate that the lab manager or other colleagues will provide direction as necessary. Of course, because this is a day-to-day task, it is not feasible or reasonable for a PI to constantly check lab books. And some people won't make long-term change without constant reminders.
So what's a PI to do? How is s/he to monitory and maintain the integrity of data and records without randomly inspecting lab books? Does anyone actually do the "understood and witnessed by" thing outside of industry?
Guru is a fan of seeing all data--the good, the bad, the ugly, the inconclusive... He periodically meets with individuals to discuss projects and experiments. As a trainee, it's a necessity to bring your notebook to these meetings because Guru might ask you about results from days, weeks, or months ago. In so doing, Guru sees our notebooks. This could offer a solution. Yet I have encountered some of the same problems locating information from previous trainees.
Some might argue (rightfully) that PIs have better things to do and shouldn't bother. Trivial as it is, proper data management is a crux for an efficient and productive laboratory. Researchers must be vigilant in keeping good records, but PIs should ensure that records are clear and consistent.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Socializing scientists
There has been explosion of networking tools over the past few years. If you are reading this blog, chances are you have a good idea of what these tools are. So first, a poll:
One point that emerged in the roundtable discussion was that each media outlet serves its own unique purpose. You choose the ones that suit your style, your personality, and the amount of time and effort you want to commit. Facebook has been a way for me to keep tabs on family and friends that I rarely see, but given its casual nature, has never moved beyond that. Twitter and blogging have become my primary connections to the online science community. Twitter is stream of almost constant chatter. It has become a place to exchange snippets from everyday life or share links to interesting articles or blog posts--the sort of things that might be of interest to other people but not needing a full blog post. Blogging allows me to share my views and experiences or to solicit opinions on a given topic. Thus far it has largely been an outlet for discussing the culture and politics of being an early career scientist. It also provides a place for me to develop ideas about mentoring and research issues and philosophies. Plus blogging gives me a chance to write with no limitations, which is necessary to developing writing skills (I might take up some research blogging to hone my science writing skills, as well). I'm very interested in hearing ways others are using social media.
The reason blogging and Twitter have worked so well is that there is a sense of community. We talk about science, but we also throw in personal tidbits along the way. Even if I don't know your real names or where in the world you are, I do feel like I'm talking with "real" people. There is a refreshing level of honesty and personality. And this is where professional social networking sites have thus far failed, in my opinion. I have an account with one or two of these science networking sites. I can't even remember my logins for them. One I would look at maybe every one to six months. Although professional networks will always be different from more casual ones, such as Twitter, Facebook, etc., they suffer from a lack of engagement. (As an aside, the people involved in setting up the NIH-funded $12 million network for scientists would do well to take note of what has and hasn't worked for both professional and open social networks.)
This is where we run into a major issue with convincing other scientists to get into social media. With open networks, anything goes. With restricted networks, nothing is going on. What to do? How do you get skeptics involved? Marketing people and techies are not going to convince scientists and physicians that they should be tweeting or Facebooking or blogging. There are many scientists who are doing great things with social media. These are the people who should be in the room telling other scientists of the utility of these networks.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Why I love blogging
In short, you guys rock. Keep on bringing it!
Saturday, January 2, 2010
How much am I worth?
As of 2009, the NIH set the pre-tax salary of a first year postdoc at $37,368. The pay level increases with each year of completed experience; the increase, which averages out to approximately $2,000 per year, ranges from about $1,600 to $2,800 (evidently the NIH feels that postdocs gain the most worth during their second year). The NIH periodically re-evaluate and increase paylines for "cost of living", usually on the order of $500/yr.
Many institutions use the NIH payscale to set their own postdoc salaries. (At some point, I was under the impression that any institute receiving NIH funds was more or less required to pay the NIH/NRSA salary as a minimum, but I may be wrong; feel free to enlighten me in the comments.) This provides some advantage to postdocs by setting a minimum expectation. Some institutes, however, take the NIH payline as absolute truth and do not consider for cost-of-living or taxation rates (my own institute falls into this category). Many of the prestigious universities and medical schools in the U.S. are located in cities with much higher than average cost-of-living. Cost-of-living in my current city is about 30% higher than the national average (and my previous city), and the state income tax rate jumped substantially upon my move to BRI. By the time I pay out taxes and benefits, my net income is only marginally higher than a grad student at PSU. Some postdocs end up having to take out loans or use credit cards to supplement their living expenses because of the mismatch between salary and cost-of-living. Of course, when a PI is applying for a grant, s/he can only request up to the NIH/NRSA payline to cover a postdoc's salary. Anything over that payline must come (I assume) from discretionary funds that then, of course, cannot be used for other costs like supplies or travel.
I really don't know what, if any, solution there is. But in wage debates, sometimes we neglect to mention or lose sight of the fact that $40k in one state is not the same in another. This was a consideration that influenced my choice of graduate schools. It is also going to play a big role in our next move. I can't help but wonder if some institutions are missing out on some talented postdocs and grad students for this reason.
Home?
Paramed and I have been far away from hometown for nearly 7 years now. Somehow, though, holiday visits just seem to get stranger every year. This year time spent with my dad was unusually quiet, strained, and awkward. Time spent with Paramed's family--which is usually full of drama--was surprisingly calm; everyone was on their best behavior for some reason. One night we went to a couple of clubs with Paramed's older cousins--Paramed and I never go to clubs. Most of the week felt too much like wandering around in some parallel reality. I tried to figure the cause(s) for these peculiarities this year. I have a few hypotheses, but honestly, after a few days, I have found myself not particularly caring why things were so different because it really has no impact on me and what I'm doing in the next six months.
Not everything was different. We still got to contend with Paramed's mother putting in requests for a grandchild. It doesn't seem to really matter that, even if we did have a kid at this point, she wouldn't be seeing it often, given the distance between here and there. Or maybe she thinks that we'd move closer if we had kids. Or that I would stop working. Or she would move in with us. I don't know. We also got to deal with the continuous commentary from some of our family about how we needed to finish up and move closer home. At least this commentary has become less guilt-ridden in the past few years. While in grad school, there was usually inclusion of statements about the poor health of family members and that they might not be here next year... I have since grown quite apathetic toward such statements.
This is part of the life of the vagrant academic. "Going home" isn't really going home at all. Paramed and I take our vacation days and money to have a few days of awkward visitation with family a couple of times a year. Maybe one of these decades, we will get to take a real vacation--you know, where you don't know anyone and you're just fine with that, where you spend a week (or more) doing things that make you happy. It's a nice dream anyway.