Siliceous and Delicious

It nearly turned into a total waste, what having spent the whole day avoiding work (including by a relatively helpful, but ultimately not work-productive, mutual-PhD-woe-empathy-fest with Jc). But it was salvaged in the end when I trekked through the grim and grey weather of the afternoon down to That Other University in East Cambridge for a talk called “Put Your Science to Work”. Much of it was, as the presenter frankly acknowledged up front, an unapologetic pep talk—which he was right to point out was something I needed (though, interestingly, he didn’t single me out but rather appeared to suppose everybody was in that situation). Much of it was familiar, and quite a bit of it was rather funny, and although there weren’t really any massive new revelations, it was surprisingly comforting to hear one’s fears, worries, and anxieties confirmed, but crucially, on stage, by someone successful, with a large audience unanimously nodding and laughing in agreement and shocked recognition. It was very nice to hear someone in his position bluntly mock academia’s unforgiving expectation that academic priorities must rule above all else.

But there were a few gems in there too, some new takes on ideas I’ve heard before, and some new ideas altogether. A distinction he made, for example, that I hadn’t considered before was between the unique skills and characteristics that science PhDs bring to the table and the perceptions and stereotypes of science PhDs held by those outside academia. Encouragingly, he suggested that many of the negative stereotypes were superficial and (relatively speaking) easy to overcome, like social awkwardness, shabbiness (Beaudry? wrinkled shirts anyone? Bueller?), and so forth. There were also some negative stereotypes that seemed like smack-on-the-money descriptions of me, too—like being a problem person rather than a solution person. But the idea that’s been worming its way around my brain—even though it didn’t strike me as particularly revolutionary or even true at the time—is that many of the aspects of how you get your PhD done in reality require some very unique and valued skills that aren’t widely spread in the labor pool at all.

The ability to embark on a project before you know how you’re going to tackle it. The ability to deal with uncertainty. The ability to confront the unknown, unforeseen circumstances, and improvise as you go along. The ability to work, self-motivated, self-guided, and without pressure, advice, or input from others. Dealing with failure, again and again, and figuring out how to pick yourself up, move on, and make the best of the situation… And so on. The thing that’s been nagging at me is that most of these things are the major aspects of the PhD experience that have been frustrating, irritating, and depressing to me. And yet here’s the guy saying that these experiences are breeding valuable skills. It’s a cognitive dissonance, and not one I’ve worked out overnight by any stretch of the imagination, but it has opened a small window somewhere where there’s a little shaft of light shining in, revealing a bit of a more positive light amidst the shadows of the last few weeks.

I have been viewing each of the setbacks I’ve faced as a further blow against me, as a further sign that the universe isn’t aligned in my favor, and as just another manifestation of my advisor’s malign incompetence and complete lack of proper support. Each of these events have made me angrier, more frustrated, and have been followed by increasingly longer periods of motivational slump from which it has become ever harder to recover. What this perspective seems to offer is a very different framing of the same situations: discovering that the objective I was planning to use for measurements in the radiolarian project doesn’t have sufficient working distance is not another strike of a malevolent universe against me, it isn’t another reason to be angry at my advisor—it’s an opportunity to spring into problem-solving action, it’s an example of the brain-tickling challenges that differentiate this line of work from flipping burgers, it’s a call to creativity, and it’s a chance to hone the very skills provided by the PhD that are most valued in the post-academic world.

Now, of course there are big caveats here (I did say cognitive dissonance for a reason). Just because these are valued skills doesn’t mean I hate being put in these situations any less, or that these are skills that I should myself automatically value or enjoy exercising. And changing perspectives, of course, doesn’t change the bare matters of reality: no matter how cheerful and excited I can be in the face of finding that the cultured diatoms I ordered for sonication are flaccid sacs devoid of the silica I wanted to experiment on, the discovery renders that project dead. But perspective can definitely alter how I deal with the next step. How long it takes to pick up and find the path ahead for moving on. And how likely I am to see possibilities for success rather than possibilities for failure on that path.

I don’t know, but it was a worthwhile thought, and one I appreciated hearing—amidst a whole ocean of unapologetic cheerleading pep-talking and useful job-hunting tidbits. Thanks, Fiske.