Leading Horses to Water
Ancient Greeks began the way of
thinking originally known as natural philosophy but which we now call
science. Science emerged as we know it during the Renaissance, in
an age dominated by fear, superstition, injustice, and brutality.
In other words, pretty much like the present. These musings are
aimed at explaining how science works, and how science can serve even
nonscientists in their efforts to make sense of the world. I can
try to explain things but it’s up to you to decide whether or not you
wish to drink from these waters.
#24 - Science as a Career
Created: 17 September 2012
How did you come to be in the job you now have? Was it your
intention to do this sort of thing when you were in grade school?
Did you arrive where you now are in your working life by plan or by
accident? More importantly, how do you feel about your
job? Is it drudgery you endure for the sake of earning a
living? Are you excited by the work you do to earn a living, or
is it tedious and dull? This essay is going to use my career
story to exemplify a story substantially larger than my own.
An anecdote: A few years after working at my first post-doctoral
job, I began riding the bus to work when I was on the day shift, so
that I didn’t have to deal with parking and traffic hassles, and it was
more economical than driving my own car. I began to chat with the
driver and got to know some of the “regulars” who were almost always
with me on the bus. Over several weeks, I discovered that
virtually all of them hated their jobs. They always celebrated
Fridays as liberation, and Mondays were gloomy as they returned
unwillingly to the saddle of their jobs. They lived for that time
they spent awake and not at their jobs. I felt sorry for them,
but couldn’t empathize with them, because it simply wasn’t that way
with me.
I certainly can’t speak for all scientists, but many of us recognized
our interest in science in grade school. We didn’t know very much
about what it truly meant to be a scientist, but we knew that the
things we learned about scientific topics were fascinating. We
actually studied science and related topics, like math, outside of
school hours – just for fun! Learning about how the natural world
works wasn’t a chore for us. It was an adventure in awe and
fascination at the facts and the details.
School for me wasn’t a great place to learn about science, because most
of my science teachers were pretty lame. I know that’s far from a
universal experience, but one thing about my early inspiration to
become a scientist is clear – I didn’t owe anyone anything for
it. It was completely internal, for the most part. Not
until I entered college did I begin to find any inspiration from
others. And they were inevitably scientists first and educators
second. That’s not to say they were all incompetent educators –
far from it, in fact! But they conveyed much more than mere facts
and the scientific method. They clearly shared my passion for
their subject! It was important to me that I wasn’t a lone weirdo
after all!! These were people paid to do something they loved,
and they loved it so much they never actually had to say so in so many
words. It was evident in their faces, their body language, their
tone of voice – the entirety of their nonverbal communication.
It was truly a revelation to learn that I could do what I wanted to do
and get paid a decent wage for it. Of course, I had to go through
a pretty lengthy education process that involved a lot of challenging
math and physics courses. Upon entering college, for the first
time in my young life, I was actually looking forward to going to
class! I finally had learned what I was supposed to be doing in
school: preparing myself for a career (in science!). By the
time I began postgraduate studies, I had become a learning machine,
absorbing new topics with ease, mastering new material quickly and
finally getting the grades that many people I’d known had said I was
capable of earning. This “work” of educating myself, with the
help of professors and other students, wasn’t work at all! I was
dizzy with the success of it all. I’d learned a lot, and was
consumed with the passion for learning. This was a price for
admission to my career that I truly enjoyed paying!
After I completed my doctorate, I threw myself into my professional
work with the same enthusiasm. I knew what I had to do and it was
as much fun or more as it had been in graduate school. I worked
long hours every day, including most weekends. I didn’t use most
of my vacation time. The work consumed almost all of the time I
spent away from my family. With time, I began to make my mark in
my profession. I was being recognized as a contributor to my
science, which was and still is the greatest honor one can achieve as a
science professional. I was part of something larger than myself
that had only positive goals, but I could remain a unique individual
within that sphere. I would lose myself when I was engaged in my
work. My “self” vanished – whatever cares and worries might be
present, whatever insecurities I might have – they disappeared.
There was only the work, the excitement of making progress, getting
results, and doing what scientists do: presenting my results to
my peers.
For the most part, scientists measure their career success with
publications in peer-reviewed scientific literature, and by the
frequency with which other scientists refer to their work. My
stature in my profession doesn’t depend at all on who is my boss at my
workplace and how she or he might feel about me. No one cares if
I wear a battered, greasy straw cowboy hat at national and
international scientific conferences. At no time in my career did
I ever pay more than minimal attention to my work performance
evaluations. The only opinions about me that matter are those of
my peers regarding the work I’ve done. I’ve been able to ignore
all the petty politics and the gusts of bullshit that sweep through any
workplace. Stay focused on the work and rest takes care of
itself. I never felt much concern about such things, and I
believe that focus is responsible for whatever success I’ve had.
As I’ve already noted, I can’t speak for all scientists. Some
might have radically different stories from mine. However, many
of my professional colleagues have shared their personal histories with
me, and many are similar to mine. We scientists aren’t selected
for the profession, we select ourselves. We’re not cold,
passionless, narrow-minded automatons – we’re deeply engaged in a
lifelong adventure with learning, and we’re paid reasonably well for us
to play! Yes, to us, our jobs are play! We never outgrew
our sense of wonder at the world around us. Learning about how
that world works didn’t subtract from the awe we felt as children – far
from it!!
The stupid stereotypical scientist you see in movies and on TV programs
is a grotesque mockery of most of us. Yes, we may not always have
great communication skills, or be adept at translating our work into
understandable terms for a lay audience. For a variety of
reasons, I learned early how to express myself via both the written and
spoken word and that has served me well. I see many of my
colleagues struggle with that.
I hope my personal story shows that most of the scientists in this
world feel privileged to be able to look forward every day to
continuing the adventure that is their so-called “job”. Our work
is our play, and we get paid to do it! It truly is the revenge of
the nerds, but definitely not the movie version. The reality of
my career has been far better than my wildest dreams of what it might
be like! How many people can say that? Can you? What
we scientists do so happily is the basis for the technology that drives
our modern society. Would it be worthy of your time to expend
some effort learning about science? I think so, and hope that a
few might be inspired to do just that! A world of wonder awaits
you …
Science
is not a religion but rather a tool for those who wish to think for
themselves about the natural world. Its primary characteristic is
its willingness to entertain questions from those who wish to obtain
believable answers.