got lots of comments on that last post... have not been in the mood to deal with blogging.

but I want to clarify a couple of points on a couple of comments.

1. Yes, it is easier for US students to get into grad school than it is for international students. That's because of how public/state schools fund graduate student positions. It is not because faculty do not want international students- quite the contrary. They want as many smart, hardworking students as they can get, and they don't care where they're coming from.

However, and perhaps more importantly, it is NOT easier for US postdocs to get faculty positions. It may even be harder because US postdocs are perceived (perhaps rightly) as being less obedient and more demanding than international postdocs (and whose fault is that, really?).

We could debate this further and we probably will, but my point is that it is a very strange scenario when compared with other careers in the US.


2. MsPhD as a name is a joke. It's a play on the feminist "Ms", which is often used as derogatory by those who do not respect women. PhD is in there to emphasize that I am a post-doc, although I feel my degree is essentially worthless, which is a joke to me since at one point it was all I cared about. And these two pieces are together because they essentially cancel either other out- as a feminist PhD, I am supposed to be in the closet about my beliefs. It's an oxymoron.

YFS as a name is also a joke. It is how I am defined to those who think the "young" and the "female" are more important than the "scientist". Here again, the name essentially cancels itself out to equal zero. Also an oxymoron.

So no, the PhD is not on there because I am "arrogant", as one angry commenter wrote.


3. Stop telling me to "just switch labs".

This little nugget has been put forth again and again and again. It's not an original comment, and typically when I get it now I just delete it because it doesn't add anything new to the discussion. When I do let it through, that's because I want it there as evidence that

a) scientists don't read
b) everybody thinks they're so clever to suggest it, as if I never thought of that before!

so, thanks to all of you, but especially the ones who say they like this blog. I've had a few ideas for posts lately, but it's usually hard to figure out how to anonymize them, and I haven't had the time or energy to be clever about it. I'll try to write more often...


that's all for now.

I don't have a good analogy and I don't really have the energy right now to figure out how to blog anonymously about what has been going on lately.

Suffice it to say, it's nothing new, nothing dramatic. If it were an isolated event, or only a few, that would be easier to paint as a picture.

Instead it has to do with the frustration of not being able to explain what it's like being subtly but consistently slighted over and over and over and over (death by a thousand pinpricks, basically).

The frustration of dealing with scientists who consistently and repeatedly offend or disappoint me (or both).

The frustration of noticing that non-scientists somehow manage to be less offensive, less disappointing, more supportive, better people. My own cynicism that this is part of why I would rather be around students, because they were people before they started school and they haven't yet lost their heart and creativity (which science seems to beat out of everyone).

The frustration of noticing that it is only in the non-science parts of my life where I have female role models who manage to set a good example AND encourage me AND give concrete, useful suggestions that help me reach my goals.

I could list all the things that are bothering me this week, but I have other things I need to do, science things that should be fun, and I will be happier when I just do them, or at least they will be done and then I can move on without feeling as if I am being lazy.

Still, I am distracted by the low but consistent drumbeat of none of this is going to help, it's too late already.

Not to mention the creeping feeling that this is somebody else's deja vu, history repeating itself because nobody listened the first time when this happened to legions of other women scientists.

And yet, it continues to happen. And I feel like I'm screaming into the forest like a broken tree, and nobody is around to hear me.

Today I spent some time slowly catching up on reading blogs I missed while buried under a pile of other things. I am still feeling disconnected from the writing mood.

In a way, it is usually good for me to be busy - I am better about being "in the moment" when I am too busy to think beyond what is in front of my face, in firefighting mode.

But in other ways I don't think it's good for me to go too long without writing. For whatever reason, it is therapeutic in the sense that I feel worse when I don't do it, even if I don't always feel better when I do.

more later.

for now, read this short post from Good Enough Woman.

At 726 posts in my dashboard (including a handful that were never posted), and in response to the intriguing Acadamnit meme:

Most Favorite Post (of mine)? Letter I won't send... yet.

Post with the Most Comments? As an American, I'm a minority in my profession

Most Memorable Post? Dear PI, it's your fault I'm depressed


Most Indicative of Your Blog Identity Post? Still true now

Most Humorous Post? Evolution of a project

Most Regrettable Post?(As in, I wished I hadn't had to) Alarming plagiarism of yours truly

Most Misunderstood Post? Just buying groceries, thanks

Most Satisfying to Write Post? Dear PI

Most Likely To Never Be Posted Post? On Obama vs. Clinton (never posted, now out of date)

Most Important Post? Ambassadors for Science

Most Appreciative Comments on this Post? Building Confidence

Prof-like substance is asking a good question:

So, I would like to find out from you why you chose the lab you are in or got your degree from? Was it a good choice and would you do it differently now? Was it the subject or PI that got you interested? How much did suggestions from others influence you?

This is interesting to me because I've blogged about it before, from the perspective of advising grad students (but don't ask me where, I didn't tag it intelligently).

So here we go, as vague as possible for pseudo-anonymity.

1. Why I chose the lab where I got my PhD

a. I liked and respected my advisor as a person and as as a scientist (that changed over time, of course, as I learned that everyone is human and people tend to fall off of pedestals)

b. I liked the other people in the lab- it had the right atmosphere. Nobody was condescending to me, I was not in a minority. It felt like a family, not like a factory.

c. I liked the way they did things- their priorities matched my priorities. They were smart about the practical aspects. I had already worked in a few labs so I had seen some really good labs, and I had rotated in at least one that did not match what I was looking for.

d. I liked my rotation project (even though it didn't work!)

e. I was excited about the subject for my thesis (even though it didn't end up being my thesis!)

f. I was drawn in by the graduate program (even though I quickly learned to hate it!)

2. Was it a good choice and would I do it differently now?

For reasons I can't blog about, I'd say it was good and bad. Would I do it differently knowing what I know now? Absolutely, yes I think so. But not in the sense that I can name a lab where I'm sure I would have been happier or fit better.

I adored my PI and my labmates, still do. But we had our ups and downs, some things happened that nobody could have seen coming and others that should have looked like an oncoming train if I had known what I was seeing.

Still, if some angel or devil had taken me aside in high school and showed me a movie of what my life would be like, I would have done a 180. Would have gone to a different college, and majored in something other than science.

3. Was it the subject or PI that got you interested?

Both, in approximately equal measure. But there was no way I was going to work for an asshole on a subject I didn't care about.

Subject was primary in my mind, and my PI got me excited about our subject. I had never heard of it when I was in college.

I interviewed with and rotated with a few other labs. In some cases, the subject was appealing but the PI was smarmy ("stop staring at my boobs!") or otherwise seemed like an abusive jerk ("everyone in my lab works 80 hour weeks!"). Those were immediately struck from the list.

In other cases, the PI was nice and seemed to have the best intentions, but I didn't like the other people in the lab.

In still other cases, I liked the PI but the project was hopeless, not at all what I wanted to do with the subject, even though the subject was still interesting to me.

I still think rotations are key. And I don't mean 6 week rotations, either. I think 3 months, minimum, is probably about right. If you can't get through the honeymoon period without getting heebie-jeebies, GTFO.

4. How much did suggestions from others influence you?

None of my advisers in the labs where I worked even tried to recommend people for me to work with. I asked where I should apply. They named the top schools, of course. I didn't end up going to any of the ones my advisers recommended. I went somewhere another person told me about. Scientifically, it was a good fit. Program-wise, it was not a good fit. At all. But I didn't know how bad that would be until after I arrived.

My advisers just said of course you'll get in. I didn't get invited everywhere I applied, but I did get interviews.

Then they said go, see how you like it when you interview. So I did.

Then when I got in, they said go, do rotations, and then decide. So I did.

Basically it was what everyone else seemed to be doing. I didn't think I was missing out on some amazing insight. There were no blogs or anything to read with advice at the time. At all.

I really didn't have a big network to draw from. I had a lot of older friends, and they all told me not to go to grad school. Of course I didn't listen. Of course I later realized why they said that. It's funny though, I really thought they were joking.

Seriously, I really did.

When I got to the point of choosing a lab, I heard a rumor about my PI that supposedly originated from a former postdoc. However, I also heard a rumor about the postdoc who said it. I figured that made both rumors uninterpretable and/or false. I later understood that both rumors were true, which is sort of the same (but not quite).

I don't like gossip. I don't like second-hand information, especially when it comes to people, unless it's really from people I've known for years and deeply trust. Even then, I find sometimes people disagree or have different experiences, due to different commonalities and different conflicts. I'm not best friends with all of my friends' friends, and they aren't best friends with all of mine. The same principle applies. To really be successful, you kind of have to be best friends with your PI (I know this now, I didn't know it then).

I have never liked to judge people on others' opinions. When I have done that, I made some terrible choices.

Now, I'd rather meet them and decide for myself (although sometimes it helps to know what to look for, and then forewarned is fore-armed, or whatever that saying is).

And, let's be honest, I really hate it when people spread rumors about me, and I hate it when other people choose to believe them without investigating (although I know most of science works this way, I reserve the right to hate it).

Having said all that, I ended up in my thesis lab because of a different rotation. That PI said, "You know, I think you'll like this friend of mine, you should rotate there and then if you want you can come back here." And I didn't end up going back.

Now, I am much more careful to listen to what people are actually telling me. I'd like to think I always make up my own mind, but I'll admit I am influenced when someone I respect tells me they think somebody would be a good mentor.

That was actually how I ended up in my postdoc lab. Boy, was that a mistake. Needless to say, that particular blunder has made me revisit my original policy to try to ignore what anybody says. But it's hard. You don't always realize you've been influenced by advice (good or bad) until it's all hindsight.

An actual google ad on my comment page (for the last post):

Ur negativity is showing! And it's not pretty! We'll teach you how to be stop being so negative! www.happier.com

Honestly, I would probably be fine with it if they had spelled out "your". Since there are no other abbreviations, I just don't get what is up with the txtspeak.

Okay, this is one of those rants that will be short and angry. FSP has written on this topic before.

....

Memo to the fucking administrative staff:

Contrary to your entitled attitude, I am not YOUR support staff. Highly trained monkeys CANNOT do what I do. And yet, in support of your arrogance, I make half as much as you do, have zero job security, and everyone treats me like dirt.

The least you could do is STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY AND LET ME DO MY JOB!!!!

....

Okay I could go on but I have to go watch Sherri on Lifetime and stop grinding my teeth.

It has been too long since I've had an interesting result that actually made sense. I'm in the fog part of the project, where all I can do is keep moving forward and hope that eventually I'll reach dry land.

Meanwhile, I'm finding myself wanting to know more about other people's results, even when I don't care about their projects very much. Just because it's nice to see things falling into place, and remind myself that it can be done.

But sometimes this backfires and makes me think, why do I bother asking? Maybe I just shouldn't even try to talk to anyone.

...

Case in point: I had a really disturbing conversation today with a professor.

This person was going on and on about consulting with other people in the field before proposing or embarking on new research projects.

Here was the list of concerns this person had:

1. To avoid scooping them
2. To avoid competing with them
3. To potentially collaborate

(in that order).

Here is was what I was thinking as I listened to this:

1. I'd be more worried about them (or you!) taking my ideas, since I have no interest in theirs (or yours!)

2. Who cares if we compete, and besides it's unlikely that we'd be doing exactly the same things in exactly the same ways. But why should I drop what I'm doing in the rare case where you happen to be doing something similar? Fuck that.

3. Why would I want to collaborate with you, when you sound so much more concerned with being nice than with actually doing science?? Look at all the science I got done while you were worrying!

...

I mean, I don't pretend to be a super-nice person, but I don't deliberately try to be an asshole, either (sometimes I can't help it, the assholishness just leaks out...). I used to really admire the super-nice people. Some of them seem to be really good at getting what they want using niceness, and I thought well, it doesn't come naturally to me, but it's something I could work on.

But lately I have less and less patience for the super-nice types. It seems to me that most of these people just waste a lot of time.

Case in point: our lab had a problem recently that affected almost everyone. However, nobody wanted to test the most obvious variable because it equated with blaming human error. In the end, of course it was human error (most things are!), but nobody wanted to say anything because they were terrified that feelings would be hurt.

And yet, to me, the real tragedy is how much everyone's science suffered in the meantime. Lots of time and money wasted because of this super-niceness bullshit. Over something trivial. A mistake that anyone could have made (and which ultimately came down to the PI being absent too much and the lab being too big).

Me, I want to work with adults who know that everybody makes honest mistakes. I want to work with people who are willing to say, "Hey, I'm having a problem with that thing." And I want the other people to say, "Okay, let's try to fix it." And perhaps more to the point, I want to work with people who appreciate that I already do that for everything, every day.

I guess this means I want to be the queen of fantasy-land.

...

I really like the phrase I heard from someone else who was talking about jealousy and competition in science: Eyes on your own plate.

My eyes are on my plate. I don't particularly care what other people in my field are doing, and I don't particularly want them to know what I'm doing (until I'm pretty darn close to being finished).

My field seems to be populated by people who spend all their time worrying about making sure they dress the right way so the popular kids will like them. Nobody is even trying to be creative and come up with something new to do.

This is yet another reason I find myself seriously thinking about quitting science. Because most people's science bores the shit out of me.

And I'm sick of people trying to offer me cookies in exchange for copying my notes. I don't want your fucking cookies.

Eyes on your own plate. I know you're a shark in nice clothing.

I was looking at a department website today, trying to find out someone's job title, when I noticed something weird.

This department is at a top-tier school with a lot of money, but they have more adjunct faculty than regular faculty.

(I know, that's not necessarily weird. Wait for it....)

What seemed weird to me is that this department listed senior faculty from distant top-tier universities (think: opposite sides of the country) as adjunct faculty in their department.

Not visiting lecturers. Not honorary members. Adjunct faculty.

Now, I don' t know what it's like where you are, but at my school the adjunct faculty have lab space. They don't get start-up, they pay their own salary from grants, and they can't be a primary graduate student adviser. But they are expected to do almost everything else the regular faculty do, including hiring postdocs and technicians, serving on committees, and teaching.

This got me thinking about a couple of Big Shots I know who each have two labs. I may have written some about this in the past, but it still bugs me. In both cases, these guys (I can't think of any women who do this, can you?) supposedly spend half the week at each lab. The labs are in separate cities, and in reality they aren't at either one very much at all. These guys are twice as much terrible adviser as your average #$%@ PI.

So now I'm wondering if all these "adjunct" Big Shots have double lab lives, too? Lately I'm seeing more of this not just cross-country but internationally, too. You know the types who have an appointment in the US and one in Singapore or India, and they spend the summer overseas (or not even).

It just burns me up because I have a hard time understanding why less than half of a Big Shot is so much more appealing than a full-time, super-energetic junior faculty member. I know plenty of postdocs would be thrilled to have even an adjunct (read: no startup, soft-money) faculty position in this department.

And yet, it just makes me ill since I have to assume that it could be all about appearances: by listing all these Big Shot names, they're trying to make themselves look bigger and even more top-tier than they already are?

Still, something seems fishy about this practice. I suspect that, among other things, it means a less than ideal situation for the students taking classes in that department.

Just finished reading a somewhat fatalistic post over at FSP about teaching science writing (and whether it can be taught).

One particular comment caught my eye, and I wanted to write a long response so I will copy that comment here (with apologies to the author, but hopefully my response will make it worthwhile):

Anonymous said...

Oh it would be so super helpful to get some tips on how to get a grip on all this writing.
If people have any suggestions on good books to teach yourself writing..... it would be grand to share those.

I am just in the process of writing / correcting my thesis and it is all done, but according to my supervisor, the quality of the writing (not the analysis) is not so good. And I need to seriously work on this because I will fail if I cannot manage to make myself understandable to other people.... (I know she has a point, but sometimes it is hard to improve, especially since the rest of our department is a bit more laissez-faire and never gives critical feedback) :(

I think for me it is not the grammar and the writing as such. But the following points:

1) What are the exact words/expressions one should use - I seem to memorize the broad concepts and the full story rather than single definitions and their respective relations. My brain just seems more wired like that, so it is sometimes hard to translate from one "language" to the other.

2) One of the main points of my supervisor is that I try to cramp to much information into one sentence or half sentence. I should rather keep it clear and short instead of crowded and too challenging.
The reason for this is (I think): I very often feel that what I did was fully trivial and not really that interesting. So that basically everybody would just be able to glance over it and think: "oh, yeah, sure, easy, so what is your point?". By cramping stuff in, I try to prove, that I actually do know my stuff.

3) And sometimes I am just helpless in separating the relevant bits from the not so relevant bits. Discussing the stuff with other people would help and actually does help, but only if I am not under major stress (because they are important people, because there is only little time, because I am having a major self-confidence crisis) :(

4) also, because I feel I should be able to do it just like that, I probably also spend far too little time on structuring and writing well formulated sentences than I should.... (well my fault really).

I'm going to start by saying, this comment is written very clearly. You got your points across very well. So I think you have all the right tools. Also, this comment really resonated with me because you sound a bit like me when I was a grad student.

1. What are the exact words/expressions one should use - I seem to memorize the broad concepts and the full story [...] so it is sometimes hard to translate from one "language" to the other.

I had this same problem, and sometimes have it even now (and probably always will).

The truth is, if you're working on something relatively established, then yes there is specific language, and it is used a certain way by convention. You can learn this by reading papers in your field. Many of the comments on FSPs site were spot-on with this kind of advice. I particularly liked the suggestion to pick a few good papers in your field and dissect them.

But if you are working on something new, or if you are on the edge of something old and venturing into something new, you might find examples of things that are poorly defined. In those cases, multiple people use the same words, but they are sloppy about it. That is confusing for you as a reader, and very confusing if you want to write about these things but you are not exactly sure what to call them.

I ran into this during my thesis work. I was working on something that had a name. It was very well established, so it was in the textbooks with this name and diagrams, etc. But as it turned out, nobody agreed on what that name meant at the molecular level.

It turns out that the secret to science writing is also the secret to science reading: most people are taught to avoid, at all costs, ever mentioning where their work raises more questions than it answers.

So if something is not known, we are taught to NEVER say at the end of the results section of a paper:"this is still not known and will require further investigation". That is the kiss of death if you want your work published!

We are also taught to NEVER say in the results section of a paper "this is controversial."

So if you really want to know what has been done and what hasn't, you have to learn to pay attention to what is NOT said. You have to figure out what was NOT DONE. What was NOT SHOWN?

It's part of human cognition that we fill in gaps using intuition. The trick is to get enough distance to know the difference between assumptions and testable hypotheses.

Also, another thing you might try that works well for me, is going back in time.

Go back to what you thought before you started your project - because it changed as you went along. "Before" is where you audience is. They don't know what you know.

I find it helpful to go back and ask myself that eternal question in a very serious way: what was I thinking when I started this project?

For my thesis, I had to take a step back, review the old data that came before my project, and decide:

a) what was really known before
b) what was really not spelled out about the missing bits
c) what do I know now that can help me fill in the missing bits
d) how do I say that clearly.

Note that the hard part comes BEFORE the "saying it clearly." I always say the hardest part of writing is the deciding.

This brings me to the next point you bring up.

2. By cramping stuff in, I try to prove, that I actually do know my stuff.

We intuitive types tend to make what others call "logical leaps" (I can tell from what you wrote that you are like me in this regard).

We have to learn how to slow down and spell things out, precisely because they are so obvious to us.

The secret here is: these "obvious" things are not obvious to most people. And you are probably making connections that others have not really made. It's hard to see this when you're inside your own head, so the only way I've found to get out of this trap is to take several steps back.

Students tend to assume that when you write as a professional, grownup scientist, you are writing for the other experts in your field. But this is almost never the case! The best scientists are always writing for experts in OTHER fields. Think about it this way: there are not enough people in your field for them all to serve on a study section dedicated only to your little subject area. No. Most of your grants will be reviewed by people who work on something else!

With that in mind, think of the audience for all of your scientific writing as other smart people who took the basic four AP/college-level science courses (intro bio, intro chem, intro physics, and calculus). That's about the common ground we have across fields.

So you don't have to spell out absolutely all the basics, but almost. I think at the beginning it is helpful to practice spelling out every single thing, if nothing else than to name the assumptions YOU are making, about what is obvious, and what is really known.

Yes, at the beginning you will feel like you are writing for 5th graders. Like you are writing a dictionary. You will feel as if you are being condescending. You will get over this feeling, but it might last a while. At the beginning, you are just aiming to be clear and not get ahead of yourself. It will be boring, and you will want to jump ahead. But you have to make yourself do it without skipping any steps. You know if you randomly skip steps in a protocol that your experiments don't work, right? It's the same thing with writing.

Eventually, as you become more practiced, you'll be more comfortable with thinking of it this way: you're writing for new grad students.

You want them to see why you like your topic, and why what you did is cool. It has to be accessible enough for them to understand it without looking up every reference you cite.

And it is good to over-write, at least in the first "vomit" draft. Write EVERYTHING at the beginning. That is what editing is for. Which brings me to your next point (which I am separating into 2 parts for clarity!).

3a. And sometimes I am just helpless in separating the relevant bits from the not so relevant bits. Discussing the stuff with other people would help and actually does help

Yes. This is where giving lab meetings is good. But if you don't get to do this very often, or don't want to do it yet, there are other ways to get where you want to go.

Talking to strangers about your project is great practice. And when I say strangers, I mean people on the subway. People you meet in the waiting room outside the dentist's office. Random people. Also, talking to friends from home who are not scientists is really useful.

You will find that even people who initially sound excited when you say you are a scientist get bored really fast, so you have to get to your point quickly and sound exciting (!), and/or you have to make a simple analogy with something in daily life. Even the most obscure things can be explained by a cute analogy.

Even if you can't use your cute analogy in a Very Formal Written Document, it is a useful exercise for focusing your thinking.

For example, for my work I have the "please ask me more" accessible answer, and the "please don't ask me more" inaccessible answer. I use them depending on my mood.

So if I want to be friendly and show what a generous martyr I am:

Me: "I work on X disease (which affects your grandmother and killed your cat last year)"
Them: "Really! What exactly do you do?"

If I want people to leave me alone:

Me: "I work on bloggedy-ology thing you've never heard of" and I make no effort to explain what that is.
Them: "Oh" (and then walk away).

So you see what I mean? The same thing happens with writing. You want people to understand enough that they feel engaged and want to know the answers to the obvious questions (which you fed them)!

So this "talking to strangers" exercise will help you answer the following questions:

1. What is the coolest thing I did in science
2. Why should anybody care
3. What is the one thing I want them to remember when I am done talking about this

Even better is to explain it to someone, say a non-scientist or a younger student (undergrads are great for this!) and then listen to them explain it to a third person.

Yes, it will be awkward and probably comical at first. But it will help you understand how to teach your subject, which is essentially what you're doing when you write about it.

You are teaching what you did, why it is cool, why they should care, and what is the take-home message.

You just happen to be doing it on paper in a relatively stylized and potentially soon-to-be-outdated format. ;-)

3b. but only if I am not under major stress (because they are important people, because there is only little time, because I am having a major self-confidence crisis)

Okay, this is a separate issue. Who are these so-called "important people"? Don't talk to them yet.

Like I said, find other people. Talk to your family, your dog, your neighbor. Talk to a tree. Seriously. I always practice my talks alone before I give them, and I always talk about my work before I write it up. This means my laptop monitor has heard a lot of my random babbling (and it still loves me! Awww).

It also means I get a lot of my awkwardness out before I talk to real people, especially before I talk to important people.

You think articulate people are always articulate? No way, no how. The best speakers and writers I know all practice, practice, practice what they will say, and they edit how they will say it.

Then, when you get some of that precious quality time with Important People, you won't be shy because you'll be well-rehearsed and comfortable talking about your work in a succinct little soundbite (theoretically, anyway).

4. also, because I feel I should be able to do it just like that, I probably also spend far too little time on structuring and writing well formulated sentences than I should.... (well my fault really).

This is not really how it's done. The best, most efficient writers I know all do a "vomit" draft, written conversationally just like you wrote this comment. Just the way you would talk to a friend.

Then you go back and see if the logic makes any sense. See if you skipped over things and didn't spell them out.

Then you go back and spell everything out.

Then you go back and see if all the missing bits are really filled in, or if you missed a few more. And then you fill those in.

At the VERY END, you go back and work on re-structuring your sentences.

But plan on several rounds of drafts and editing, editing and drafts.

Structuring your sentences will not help with the overall organization if you're getting ahead of yourself and not spelling things out. Gotta see the forest for the trees. Then you come back later and fill in the veins on the leaves.

Oh, and one final point, now that I've droned on and on and on.

There are many kinds of writers, but it is VERY hard to find good editors. If your advisor is saying "not so good", that is not constructive feedback. That is vague, negative criticism without specific suggestions for how to improve!

Personally, I am on the warpath against these PIs who think that re-writing every sentence is "teaching". ARGH!

There are some good books about how to be your own best editor, so I recommend starting there. Also, consider asking some other not-too-important but friendly people to give you feedback about where you're making sense and where you are going off on tangents.

There endeth the lecture. Go forth and scribble!

Lately I am having the rage again. You know, the one about how come that guy gets to do nothing and have every one of his wishes fulfilled, and I have been working my ass off only to be told NO to even the most minor, reasonable request?

It always hits me early in the morning, say around 6 AM. I don't like to get up at 6 AM, and yet, sometimes there is no point trying to go back to sleep.

...

This week I got an email from an old colleague who just landed a faculty position in her home country. Her email talked about perseverance and how happy she is.

This colleague was a postdoc when I was a grad student. That puts her at roughly 5 years more post-doctoral years than I have now (in her country, you can make a decent living even if you are not faculty, but it's still very hard and I'm not sure how she did it).

Hearing that she has a new job made me happy for her, but it also made me want to quit on the spot.

She was always a role model for me, and it was discouraging when she lost her funding and couldn't find a position.

She might be a phoenix now, but like a lot of things in my career, there is no way I'm going to follow in her footsteps. I can't work in her country anyway, but 5 more years of working on other people's projects? NO WAY am I doing that in any country.

...

Meanwhile I have been bad about exercising and I know this is part of the problem. It is very simple. When I don't exercise, I feel like crap and find I have a lot of extra rage. But I still hate exercising, and I resent having to make time to do it.

I think if somebody could invent an exercise pill that gave all the benefits of exercise (not just weight loss but also stress relief and all the other good things that come from aerobicizing your joints, muscles and brain), I would take it.

...

In other news, I wish I could blog about other things, but I can't. So instead I am working on my memoirs. I know, it sounds so vain to use that words, but I don't know what else to call it. It is basically a book about things that have happened to me.

I guess I'll stop blogging now and go work on it some more. Since I am awake, and angry, and I don't feel like exercising just yet.

I just had one of those days.

Lots of stupid annoying things happened. Nothing huge, but a lot of straws on the camel's back. People were rude and/or condescending. Experiments didn't work and I will have to do them over. People I hate got things I wanted. I did good deeds and wondered why, because it wasn't particularly rewarding.

I don't want to write another one of those downer, droopy-faced blog posts where I whine (yes, I do read your comments before I delete them) about how much it sucks to be a postdoc, and so on and so forth. But in case you were wondering, yes, it still sucks.

Tomorrow I will get up and put one foot in front of the other, and who knows what will happen.

The last few weeks have been really kind of strange, with lots of unexpected things both good and bad. In the end, I guess it all evens out, but I feel like I'm on a really bumpy road in the back of pickup truck as the sun is going down, and it is getting dark and cold outside.

I'm getting somewhere, but I can't really see where I'm going, and my ass hurts.

A while back, I was at a party with some smart non-scientists who happen to be extremely paranoid about health issues.

They were ranting about organic food this, pesticide-free that, traces of pharmaceuticals in the water supply, genetically-engineered plants, etc. Unfortunately, I was getting frustrated because they didn't seem to know what they were talking about.

Gradually, as I argued with them, I came to realize that they had been reading about these things on the internets, and getting their information largely from one-sided documentary films and whatever the water filter guy in Home Depot told them they needed to buy.

They didn't understand what genetically engineered actually means. Sure, it sounds kinda scary. But they didn't seem to know what "DNA" is, relative to "genetic". They were throwing around these terms about genes being "different" from ours without knowing that our most important genes are all conserved.

And they had seen some documentary about the potential evils of bionic alien plants, or whatever, which got them off on this kick of being very anti- almost anything scientific.

"It's not natural!" they kept screaming, and I really should have asked them if they use birth control (they don't have any kids, so I'm pretty sure they do). But I think you'll agree that some people believe that birth control of any kind is not "natural", either.

Or indoor plumbing. Or tv. Or microwaving.

I guess if they keep going on this path, they'll insist on joining the Raw Food movement and living in the forest, or something.

Mostly I was amazed at how much it annoyed me that they were vehemently arguing with me. Not because they were arguing, but because they were so dramatically misinformed.

And it breaks my heart a little, because I think they would make great scientists. Here's why:

1) They are interested in getting information, going to great lengths to learn about how the world works (however inept they were at determining the quality of what they found).

2) They are unrelentingly skeptical, not caring one whit for academic reputation or the Establishment.

3) They are passionate about their cause.

4) They have no investment in doing science to make money.

I always draw the analogy between science and government. If you've studied American History, you know that members of Congress were not supposed to serve lifetime appointments the way they tend to do now. There were supposed to be term limits for a reason: to avoid having career politicians (the way we do now).

I still think maybe the idea of science as a temporary position is not such a bad one, and we kind of already have it with most of our scientists working as terminal postdocs (but without the prestige of serving our country). I have to wonder if it's not the career scientists who do the most damage, just like career politicians?

And yet, as I ranted about on my last post, we're really doing a terrible job of educating the public. Instead, we're taking some of the most intelligent, vocal, self-directed amateur researchers and letting them feed on junk information.

If only they were as scrupulous about their reading as they are about their food.

Much as I aspire to have a paying job with the word "ass" in the title, the truth is that as a PhD, I think it is already part of my "job" to educate the public about science and scientists.

I probably spend too much time wondering how much more we could get done, how many rockets sent to how many planets, how many diseases cured, how many electric cars invented, if only we were valued by our taxpaying citizens as much as wars and wall street already are.

I probably spend too much time wondering why we can't have high-paying contracts the way rock stars, lawyers, and ball players do to live the wonderful lifestyles they live.

But what I think it really comes down to is this: as a group, we are terrible ambassadors. Scientists themselves are responsible for not educating the public about science.

Just witness the comments on my last blog post.

Most scientists are more concerned with their own comfort than with the bigger picture. The one minute it takes you to get out there and give science some visibility by saying Hey, I'm a scientist! This is what a scientist looks like!

Is it really too much for you to give?

We love to talk about K-12 outreach and educating teachers, yada yada, when claiming we'll have a "Broader Impact" in our grant proposals. But let's be honest. It's too late by the time kids are in school. The truth is, their parents don't value science as an endeavor, and they don't see their kids as potential scientists. I know mine never in a million years would have guessed I'd want to work in a lab. And they really had no idea what scientists do as opposed to, say, medical doctors or engineers. I'm pretty sure they still don't quite get it.

I really hate seeing these surveys they claim "most" US citizens think science is important. I think it's complete bullshit. My own parents have zero interest in visiting my lab and seeing what we actually do there. We do some pretty freaking cool stuff, but somehow we've failed to spread the curiosity or excitement.

In real life, most US citizens are freaked out at the thought of meeting a scientist, and they'd rather pay more taxes to protect them from terrorists than they would to protect them from H1N1 flu, even though their chances of catching the flu are orders of magnitude higher.

You might have seen the "Americans sure are stupid" video floating around recently. Do you really think the people on that video value science? Of course not. They think we are all still the kids they picked on in school. The nerds. Nobody respected us then, and they don't really respect us now. They have no idea what our jobs entail, why we do them, or how it affects their daily lives.

Do us all a favor and get out of your comfort zone when you're out running errands or at a party meeting new non-scientist people. If somebody asks you what you do, DON'T LIE. Just say you're a scientist.

Went to the store tonight on the way home. Typical exchange (some variation on this theme has happened on at least 3 occasions):

...

Cashier: Donate to xxx disease charity?

MsPhD: Not today, I work on xxx disease, I donate every day.

Bag Assistant: Are you a doctor?

MsPhD: I'm a PhD. I work in a lab.

Bag Assistant (looks me up and down, puzzled expression, sounds doubtful): Oh.

In response to a comment from 2nd year physics grad student Becky:

Random question - You have very good confidence in your abilities. Some of your commenters seem to take offense at this, but I think it's a highly useful trait to have as a scientist.

I, on the other hand, feel like a moron everyday. How did you develop such a positive attitude about yourself?

Here are my thoughts on this. But I'm going to start with instructions to mentors, and then move onto instructions for students.

3 things for mentors to do:

1. Encourage small accomplishments early and often

The people who trained me early on showed me how to do everything. They were patient with letting me practice until I got things right, but they supervised me until that happened. And then they said, "Just like that. Good job."

Ahh.

It doesn't take that much to see if the student is following directions and executing steps correctly, but it really helps to give that confirmation and validation that the effort is appreciated and noticed.

2. Give independence in gradually increasing amounts

I was allowed to be pretty independent in the lab pretty early on. I loved this about lab.

I grew up with very little personal freedom and really controlling parents. According to my parents, I was Stupid, I was Lazy, I was Ugly, I was Fat, etc. I was always scrambling trying to please them, which I would later realize was impossible anyway.

In school, I was Student. It was a role we all played. Show up, take notes, maybe ask a question if you're feeling brave. Go home, do homework, pass tests. Check.

In lab, I was suddenly Person. I was treated more like an adult than ever before, and I was amazed. I could come in, do my thing, maybe show someone my results before I left, maybe even get a "Good job!" and then go home. Eventually I would finish whatever I was doing and be taught a new task.

I liked the idea that eventually I would learn enough tasks to be able to work longer and longer without having to ask anyone anything.

I realized later that this was probably pretty unusual. I worked in small labs and big labs, but the people who trained me were, with no exceptions I can think of, both remarkably rigorous and extremely generous with their time.

Nowadays, I don't see this very often. I regularly see poorly trained postdocs training students poorly; I regularly see grad students flailing in the wind because they have no one to ask and no idea what they're doing. It's no wonder grad students lack confidence in that kind of environment.

Trust me when I tell you, the good labs are NOT like that. They're hard to find, though.

3. Quit biting their heads off

Recently, I've been involved in mentoring students in other labs. These students find me, and maybe they don't even tell their advisor I've been helping them out. In every single case, at some point their advisor blows up at them.

The reasons an advisor might yell at a student include but are not limited to:

-advisor is crazy/stressed out and it has nothing to do with the student

-advisor made a mistake but would rather lash out than admit it

-student was flaky (irresponsible and/or passive-aggressive rebellion)

-student was willfully disobedient (some PIs can deal with this when it is justified; some can't no matter what the reason)

-student made a mistake on something important

But it's really only the last one that I want to talk about today.

Students often make one major mistake: they don't always ask for help. This pisses us older folks off, because we interpret it as meaning any or all of the following:

-student is arrogant and doesn't think we know anything worthwhile

-student is embarrassed to be asking, which means we're too intimidating (not a good thing, we blame ourselves when this happens)

-student is so clueless that they don't even know to ask, which means we've been sucky mentors (not a good thing, we blame ourselves when this happens)

Sometimes it's really really hard to keep your calm when a student makes an otherwise totally avoidable mistake. Especially if they could have asked you and didn't, and you're not sure why.

However. In our role as mentors, we have to recognize that Every. Single. Time. you blow up at a student, especially a new student, it is probably our own fault.

I'll say that again. It's YOUR fault, mentors. YOU NEED TO KEEP YOUR CALM. They're just students, they can't really be expected to know as much as you. Get it?

Now, having said that, I've had students who were such bleeping hothouse flowers they couldn't take any kind of criticism. No matter how gently put, if I told them they did something wrong or needed to do something over again, they would just freeze up.

I've tried "Here, you want to avoid that because of XYZ, try it this way." Nope, too sensitive for that.

Or, "Okay, so that's not quite right, next time I'll show you what I want you to do differently." Nope, too sensitive for that too.

You know, they tend to be the straight-A types. I don't know what to do with them. I tend to think science is not the place for people who can't deal with making mistakes and getting honest feedback on their performance.

3 things for students to do:

1. Buck up, cowgirl

If you're not used to criticism, get used to it. Those of us who played on sports teams or did any kind of competitive performing arts are used to being given feedback with few frills attached.

The trick is, and I'm going to say this in all caps, IT'S NOT PERSONAL.

Okay? Get it? It's about your work, it's not about you. We're not saying you're not good enough, we're saying "Here's how you do it."

It's instruction, it's feedback, it's not that we think you're stupid or incapable.

The good mentors know that you can't possibly know these things unless we teach you, show you, and let you practice and ask questions. That's our job. Your job is to keep trying until you get it right. Even if we tell you over and over all the little ways you can improve. We really do want to see you succeed at everything you do. But we understand that research involves an awful lot of falling on your face. All of us were grad students once, too.

2. If you're not sure, Look it up, and Then Ask

Eventually, we want you to get to the point where you can look things up and then decide for yourself whether the answers you find in the literature or via google make any sense or not. Half the time, they're probably wrong. But by the time you're 2 years into grad school, you should be able to look things up on your own without too much effort (thank you, internet).

If for some reason you can't find what you need in the lab protocol book or on the internet, or if what you find there makes no sense, then ask us.

If you don't take notes, or don't try to look things up, or don't ask in an intelligent way ("Hey, I'm trying to do X, I'm not sure how to do Y, would you have time to show me? When would be a good time?") eventually we will get annoyed with your laziness and disrespect and we will treat you the same way in return.

Some of us will give you references instead of helping you because we can't stand talking to disrespectful, ungrateful students.

Others will just plain talk down to you. There are two ways of dealing with those types.

1) Look things up on your own (and find other people to ask)
2) Get upset.

I recommend choice #1. People still talk to me like I'm an idiot on a regular basis. And eventually I realized that those types talk to everyone that way. I realized it's not me, it's them. Use this as your mantra when you're being treated like a moron.

Note: students usually feel like morons when they're treated like morons. It may have nothing whatsoever to do with your actual abilities and everything to do with the people around you being jerks.

3. Whatever you do, don't guess

Nothing pisses us off more than when students are too lazy to either look things up or ask.

The central principle of research, as far as I can tell, is knowing what you know and what you don't knowm, and then figuring out how to fill in what you don't know.

This is true at all levels. PIs regularly make assumptions about what we know, and we're wrong All. The Time. The same is true for students. You might think you know more than you do, but more often than not, students think they know nothing. You are not alone in feeling that way.

I always say it's like learning a foreign language. At the beginning, you work on comprehension. You can read the words, you know what they mean. You hear the words, you know what they mean. But you're shy about speaking the language yourself. You don't have the accent. It's harder to use it than to understand it.

So yeah, it's rough at first, doing your own research independently. You will make mistakes. You will feel uncertain. Probably for a long time. That's OK. Your data should be telling you if you're on the right track.

If nothing is working, it helps to find people to mentor you (not in the vague MentorNet sense of the word). I mean people who are willing to answer your day-to-day questions about how to do things.

Later on, even if my questions were just, "I'm going to try this now, do you think it will work?" knowing full well that their answers might have no correlation with the outcome.

It still gave me more confidence, just to have said out loud "I'm going to try this now." And sometimes I got good advice that way before I made stupid mistakes. As you go along, you'll find the ratio of times they're right: times you're right shifts. At the beginning, they're usually right and you're usually wrong. By the end, you'll be right more often than they are.

I was lucky that I had people like this for most of my career, who were willing to let me bounce ideas off them, and willing to admit it when I was right (though not always).

When I reached the end of grad school and I didn't have anyone to help me in the lab, I realized I didn't need it anymore. Not in that lab, anyway, where I actually knew how to do everything our lab did (!). Sometimes you don't realize this until a new person joins and you start seeing them making all the same mistakes you made.

And if you become a postdoc, or start a new job, or a new project, the cycle starts over again. You ask stupid questions for a while, you feel bad having to ask but now you know it's part of the process. And then you go do some experiments on your own. Training wheels are off.

Eventually, you realize that when you're really doing research, NO ONE KNOWS THE RIGHT ANSWER. There an incredible freedom in that. All you can do, all anyone can do, is come up with a hypothesis, and then test it. But that's not the same as guessing.

You'll know you're there when you can design, execute and interpret experiments on your own. Even if someone tells you, before you even start doing it, that you're doing it all wrong. When you do it anyway, that's confidence. Even if you're not always right. Do the test.

This has been a week of uh-ohs.

The refrain that makes me want to hurl, because I've heard it multiple times from different people:

Uh oh, that gel from your collaborator seems to be completely fake

Luckily, none of these cases have affected me directly (yet?), but I have been thinking again about this question of what do you do when you suspect dishonesty in science.

It also got me thinking about how this is probably also contributing to why I'm not appreciated.

Yes, I've said it before and I'll say it again: I really am that good. But I sometimes wonder if the reason most people don't know real expertise when they see it is because they're willing to cut corners and falsify results, so they just assume I'm doing it too?

I'm tired of being treated like I'm mediocre, when at least I know my results are real, and I've had to watch several cases of liars getting High Impact papers and faculty positions.

But there is nothing I can do about it in the absence of hard proof or a confession that they spiked their samples, that the PI pressured them into producing the expected answers, etc.

I don't know what to do in these situations. It's the rare PI who will not get defensive if you even hint that maybe they didn't notice something fishy about that paper their favorite postdoc published last year.

And yet, I'm watching generation after generation of grad students get completely screwed, being made to feel inept when they can't reproduce data that probably never existed in the first place.

So I have to wonder, seriously, if I know a handful of these phonies are now professors, how many are there total? Are there more now than there were before? Will they ever get caught? Why do we tolerate it? How come nobody seems to know??

I also know a few people who left science during or after grad school when their PIs refused to admit that their new data invalidated the old, obviously massaged evidence published by past postdocs. They said they couldn't win, research wasn't what they thought it was, and went off to do other things.

I worry that unless we come up with a mechanism, maybe some kind of anonymous hotline, all of us trusting, honest souls will end up leaving out of sheer disgust, and there won't be any real science left.

And yet, the idea of being able to report people anonymously means you open up the possibility for false accusations. It's too 1984 for me, kids reporting their parents during the Cultural Revolution in China. It could be a whole new form of nastiness. Would that really be worth it?

Obviously, this is why we don't have The Truthiness Police. But I'm worried that science is hemorrhaging from being undercut by those who make it a game of ambition, while laughing at the noble pursuit of excellence.

One subject I rarely write about on this blog is MrPhD. That is because, as Mr types go, mine is pretty good.

But lately I've been noticing something that makes me wonder, which makes me want to do a pseudo-quantitative analysis (I say pseudo- because it's a blog, and because I don't intend to run any tests of statistical strength).

I've noticed that it's hard to tell if we really share housework equally. I've also noticed that, while this is deeply important to me in my personal life and career management, most of my peers do not share housework equally (or at all).

Several of my male colleagues have a wife at home, and kids. The wife does all the housework in these cases, all the grocery shopping, all the laundry, and packs his lunch. He deals with things like car repairs. This is the very traditional arrangement, and more or less what my parents did.

It seems to work quite well for the men in academia. They seem to have plenty of time and energy to be postdocs, drink with pals and colleagues, publish lots of papers, get faculty positions... and never run out of clean underwear.

Some of my female colleagues have children, and in most cases they still carry slightly more than half the burden, along with a postdoctoral or staff position. The women I know who had children as postdocs have generally failed to get faculty positions, or decided not to apply. Only those who interviewed and got offers first, then became visibly pregnant, have managed to combine a faculty position with children.

Meanwhile, the older female professors who have children seem to have Extraordinary Partners, from what I can tell. But maybe they still carry slightly more than half the housework, cooking, daycare driving, etc. I can't say I know for sure.

And then there are those who are still single, and I'm not sure if that's more or less work than living with someone who does their fair share. Most of the time, I think it's easier to have a partner. We have different skills around the house, and it means slightly less struggling on my part to reach the shower head when it's clogged... but when I think about it, sometimes I do feel like I'm doing more than my fair share.

Yes, you can argue (as MrPhD does) that it's because I care more. I am not a neat-freak, but I am allergic to dust, so I do more housework related to that than I would like to (had I been born allergy-free, oh how I wish).

And you can argue that it's partly just perception. We all feel like we're doing more annoying chores than we want to, therefore it must not be fair.

But I was offended the other day when we went out with some acquaintances, and as sometimes happens, someone our age (whom I didn't know) emphasized how MrPhD should quit his postdoc and get a job that pays more, so I could stay home.

I thought about what I would do if I stayed home. I thought about what I do when I do stay home to work, or when I'm sick. And it's true, I do more cleaning when I stay home. But it's not my first choice of activity! It's not as if I'm out having fun and thinking, "Gosh, I wish I didn't have so many fun things to do so I could have more time to go home and clean instead!" Not even close.

And I can't ever see myself doing what my mother did.

Trapped in the house with small children, my father gone at work all day, she did what any good overachieving perfectionist would do: proceeded to work her butt off to make sure we had the cleanest, prettiest house there ever was. She went to such extremes (and I'll mention that she learned this from my grandmother) as to stretch out and make more elaborate certain cleaning rituals, to ensure that they would fill up all the time in a day. So that she would never have time to be bored, or introspective, and forced to admit that she was miserable.

But back to the neanderthals who were good-naturedly trying to "help" us with their unsolicited advice. This was probably the 3rd or 4th time it has happened. Each time a different guy comes out with these proclamations, and always men our age.

Ladies, we can't just hope that all the old men will die off. There are new ones born every day.

Admittedly, these particular guys are not scientists, and in fact they are in jobs where women are traditionally absent or always secretaries.

But they are also men who seem to know that women can and do work outside the home, even obtain higher degrees and pursue challenging, stimulating careers.

And yet. They still say these things. I hope they enjoy the look on my face, before I start yelling.

It's almost 2010, I have a PhD, and clearly I have been transplanted backwards from some unknown moment in the future when it's perfectly reasonable for me to want robots to do all my cleaning- oh yeah, and the career for which I have spent my entire adulthood training.

Found a link to this article in The Scientist by way of a relevant post by Drugmonkey.

But I'm not sure I understand the issue. It just will not compute in my brain. So much of it is so patently ridiculous and wrong, and yet, there are some truths in here.

And perhaps more frightening and importantly, I think this wacknut (to borrow an imaginary word apparently coined by CPP) actually does represent the opinion of a substantial subset of senior faculty, although they aren't always willing to say so in public or without alcohol.

My adviser, for example, sometimes gets in these moods and starts ranting about how ungrateful and unmotivated we junior scientists are. Which always makes me have to leave the room, or risk committing a violent Tarantino-esque act of murder.

So, I'm freely admitting that yes, I am biased the other way. And yet. I can somewhat agree with some of the points this wacknut makes:

1. "A major factor is that contemporary biomedical training programs fail to train young investigators to be scientists."

I agree- sort of.

I do think our training programs suck, and we end up with a lot of misinformed people coming out of them with worthless PhDs and no idea how to work independently, much less lead a team of researchers to do anything innovative. So then we shove them into equally worthless postdocs. Great system!

However, I also recognize that I think of myself as an exception.
And since I also think of myself as representative of my generation, that creates a logical conflict that ultimately nullifies the point.

Clearly, I am biased. I agree that our programs suck, but I think that the best scientists will still manage to rise above the maddening frustration and royal waste of time that we call "training".

However, would we get more "best" scientists (to use the inane Zerhouni terminology) if our programs were better? Absolutely. Would it be a lot more bang for our taxpayer buck? HECK YEAH.

2. "They are trained to be myopic super-technologists, predominantly in areas of molecular biology and molecular technology. They lack the broad holistic background and capacity to integrate molecular events with cellular through organ-systems physiological and pathophysiological principles and relationships. "

Okay so first of all, the second sentence is a run-on. Apparently senior faculty lack the ability to use effective rhetoric.

So let's break this down into pieces.

"myopic super-technologists"

Translation? The author is a Luddite.

The part that's actually true? Graduate students and postdocs are being used as TECHNICIANS. This reinforces the tendency to be good at the details. Why is it like this? Because of the same thing that has been rotting science from the inside out for a long time now: the emphasis on High Impact Publications. It selects for over-specialization and assembly-line productivity from major labs. Which means that in order to keep the machine running, you better be a damn good cog.

I blame the senior scientists for this phenomenon. They're the ones reviewing papers (supposedly) and sitting on search committees that choose to hire only the top cogs.

"to integrate molecular events with cellular through organ-systems physiological and pathophysiological principles and relationships"

To be perfectly honest, I've never met a single scientist who could do this effectively. Because the truth is, to know the molecular events and really understand them, you have to spend a lot of years working on the molecular side. Ditto for the organ-systems and pathophysiology.

The modern way of doing science, Sir, is by COLLABORATION. If anything, Zerhouni's policies encouraged more funding and jobs for MDs, who specialize in the part you're complaining we PhDs don't know: the organ systems and pathophysiology. So we're really not hurting for specialists in these areas. And asking for junior people who can combine them- well that's just ridiculous. Maybe with 48 years of experience, we could do it. But that's what makes us junior. And maybe you're overestimating your amazing intellect. Since you're apparently a Luddite, it stands to reason that I could run circles around you when it comes to the molecular, technology side of what we do. And yet, you're not impressed by that? Why not?

3. "On the other hand, those “most accomplished, broad-thinking, and creative scientists” are penalized in the grant review process because of their experience and success. "

Um, no. That is not logical, either. Let's break this down again.

In my experience, the most broad-thinking, creative scientists are NOT the ones getting the grants. WE, the most broad-thinking, creative scientists, are ghost-writing grants for our "accomplished" and "successful" PIs. WE are not allowed to write our own grants. WE are quitting science because we are NOT ALLOWED or ENCOURAGED to be broad-thinking or creative. WE are supposed to be cogs if we want to be faculty.

If you are being "penalized" for your success, it's because you already have several grants and CAN'T JUSTIFY SUCH ENORMOUS SUMS. Or maybe it's because you can't claim to spend more than the minimum percentage required of your time for you to pretend to be involved in the project, rather than just slapping your name on the papers at the end.

Sheesh!

Having said all that, some of the comments were really good. Except for one or two, I agreed with a lot that was said.

But there was this comment: Finally, I would encourage all junior faculties to volunteer to serve on the study section. Instead of complaining about the system, try to work in the system to make it better.

This is ignorant and incorrect.

First of all, postdocs are NOT ALLOWED to serve on study sections for R01s. Typically in your first couple of years as a junior faculty member, you don't have time to travel to do this, but also it is VERY unusual to be ALLOWED to do it. People love to talk about it like it's easy to get a slot on a study section, but it's actually not. You don't get to just sign up.

There was also this:

However, there is a much bigger issue at stake. Many R01s that I have been involved in as a junior investigator, or post-doc rarely complete the aims described therein. There must be penalties for the lead PI for failing to complete an R01 according to the specific aims described.

There must? Why? How?

In some ways, I agree. It should be possible to make progress on a grant, although I don't agree that you should have to "complete" everything you proposed to do. But if you don't get anything done at all, it should be held against you. But many PIs get around this by applying to different institutes, different study sections, and as long as they are publishing something, nobody seems to even check. That is a bit ridiculous.

Also, what is said in the grant as planned experiments are rarely if ever carried out in reality. What is done in the lab on having that R01 funded are elements of that R01 together with a revised structured thinking of the PI to conduct experiments that were not even defined in the original grant application. The R01 is in essence out of date from the time it is submitted to the time the check is in the post. This has to change.

It does? Why? There is no suggestion of how that would work. Science is a moving target.

It's hard to see how this would work without majorly overhauling the system. We would need a system that could handle nearly constant updates.

Personally, I'd love to see a wiki-type science world, where everything is transparent and everyone is always updating what they're doing. But it's hard to envision how that could work in the current system.

Cheaters aren't penalized, and honest workers aren't rewarded. There would have to be a way of compensating scientists for significant contributions without rewarding only those who are most adept at exploiting younger researchers to do the physical labor and technological feats. You know, the things our Esteemed Colleague at the University of Maryland, Baltimore won't acknowledge as difficult or essential to his "success".

Warning, much offensive profanity to be found here, but useful if you have problems with people who like to write nasty comments anonymously.

Note that this is not something I'm in need of currently, nor am I asking for obnoxious comments. I just think that sometimes CPP's insane ranting stream of &*#$(#)@! is hilarious in a very un-PC way. I always find myself wondering if I met CPP in real life, would I know it was CPP?