Siliceous and Delicious

The day of Heroen Verbruggen coming to visit is here. It’s been a total waste—since I’d been hoping to talk to him about the morphospace, but haven’t had a chance to work on it because of the microscope fiasco. Fucking shitballs. I had breakfast with him at Darwin’s and we chatted casually about this and that, but nothing of substance or really relevant to my work—he did ask about the morphospace project, but I had to answer honestly that it was in the same place as it had been when I’d last emailed with him. That was a quick way to kill that conversation. I can truly say that, right now, I hate science, and the mere talk of it makes a sickening feeling spread through my interior.

Eventually I ran out of things to talk about and things to show him around campus, so I brought him back to the lab at around eleven and sat him down in the library to get on with his own work. Again, I feel like a douchebag for having asked him for help and then not having anything to really talk with him about—but what can you do. It’s just another indication that these things are not meant to work out for me.

“Did” a few more slide species checks, in which it became increasingly clear that I need help in identifying these species. For the first few species I knew pretty well what I was looking for, but for the last two in particular the species descriptions in the taxonomic literature just weren’t clear enough for me. This is where I would want my advisor to sit down next to me and help me, but of course, Andy isn’t a radiolarian specialist, and would be just as lost. So, what next? Emailing pictures to Dave, asking him whether I’ve got the IDs right? Traveling to Berlin? It certainly dealt yet another blow to my confidence.

The rest of the day was pretty well wasted away with various Heroen babysitting activities, sitting through his rather long (90 minute) talk, going to coffee with him, and now going to dinner with him and Erik and Andy. It should be fun, yay, an opportunity to network and a free meal—but I am so sick of the whole scientific endeavor at this point that I can barely imagine anything worse at this point than being forced to sit around a dinner table and talk enthusiastically about science and how great it is for two hours.

On a slightly positive note, did a few minutes worth of googling about digital educational publishing at one point, daydreaming about fulfilling work in a startup company, and found this rather neat looking outfit. Of course they are based on the wrong coast, but nice to think there are some fun places one could conceivably work after this torture is over.

What I realized yesterday, after a completely unproductive week, is that I’m not ready to ignore what’s going on with the radiolarian lineage project and just focus on the morphospace. The stalled radiolarian project is making me nervous, worried, and scared of failure. That’s no place to be emotionally. I need to tackle it head-on, and try to figure out how I can make that project work. It needs to work, because I need to graduate, and I’m going to make it work. So what if Andy isn’t going to help me. He’s not going to do my PhD for me anyway, I’m going to. Fuck it.

What’s going to make me feel better is knowing, for sure, just how good the resolution I can get from the functional objectives is, and if I know how many of the slides actually contain the species I’m looking for. Both of these questions are not hard to answer.

The first requires a stage micrometer—a microscope slide with micron-scale markings on it that allow calibration of the microscope objectives—an object we have in the lab, but hidden away in one of Andy’s desk drawers. Behind a locked door. And Andy is away. It’s a bummer but I’m considering using my key to his office, handed down through the generations to the senior Knoll lab student, for precisely such emergency situations. Of course, I don’t want to get caught red-handed having let myself into his office. But it’s a risk I might be willing to take considering the pressing circumstances.

The second is also easily done—sit down at the microscope with the species description and the list of slides, and see what I can find in each. This, in fact, is something I can do right away. Got through one slide (trekked to the Office of Career Services for a much less interesting talk than the one yesterday over lunch), which didn’t have any of the target species in it. Oh well. Better luck with the next one. Also spent a good hour or so researching the offending objective online to see if I could find out what it’s nominal working distance is—and in fact what the working distance means. The former was eventually found (though it required a tremendous amount of sleuthing)—the Leitz PL APO 63/1.40 objective has a nominal working distance of 0.15 mm, i.e. 150 microns. It is corrected for a cover slip thickness of 0.17 mm. This means, to the best of my understanding, it will focus on a plane that is 0.15+0.17 = 0.32 mm, or 320 µm, beneath the tip of the objective. That’s not a long distance. It is, however, apparently also a very fine objective (for its designated purpose), retailing in the second hand market for close to $4,000 as far as I can tell.

Anyway. The next tasks are, as I decided earlier, to see if the species I need are actually there, and if the objectives I do have—specifically the 40x Olympus—offer enough resolution to measure shell thickness on them.

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.

Bit of a further let-down by email today, as I received an email from McKinsey announcing their 3-day “Insight” mini-internships, to which I had hoped to apply. It turns out that a) the one that looked most appropriate is the week after my wedding, at which time I will hopefully be on my honeymoon, not working, and b) none of the internships are actually appropriate for me. Three courses are offered, one is Asia-themed (and requires applicants who envision a career in Asia, so definitely not me), the second is healthcare-themed (aimed towards MDs and medical-biological PhD’s and postdocs, again not me), while the third one is engineering and science themed, but, beyond being impossible timing-wise, is also open only to PhDs or post-docs in “engineering, computer science, economics, mathematics, operations or physics”, which definitely isn’t me.

While this is a bit of a disappointment, it stings a little less as my intuitive hunch for what I should be doing has been growing a little stronger over the past weeks in its tendency away from good opportunities, sensible choices, and financial security and towards doing something that has value. And I’m not convinced that being in management consulting necessarily actually adds any value to society at all. I’m growing stronger in my belief that, in many ways, many of these “industries” (if they can even be called that)—I guess they’re called the FIRE economy now, for finance, insurance, and real estate—do not so much contribute to society as take from it. In any case, however you cut it, I’ve been starting to realize in my aimless thinking about what to do that doing something I feel is important, makes a valued contribution to society, is important to me. And I’m just not convinced that McKinsey fully embodies that—not to mention that they certainly don’t meet my hopes in terms of working conditions, culture, and hours.

Since it’s relevant here, I might as well type up my scrawled notes on the characteristics of my dream job, as absent-mindedly doodled onto a sheet of scrap paper last week:

1. Flexible
2. Intellectually challenging
3. Makes something I can see as a finished product
4. Demands some creativity
5. Has projects with a beginning, middle and an end (where the time between results, see point 3, is much less than years)
6. Involves being a part of something bigger than me
7. Has me working in collaboration with and surrounded by others, at least part of the time
8. Affords me autonomy to bring in my own ideas
9. Lets me see the results of my efforts directly (even when it’s not in a finished product, as in point 3)
10. Is emotionally rewarding
11. Pays well
12. Provides ample vacation time
13. Has full medical coverage and retirement benefits
14. Has a workplace culture that respects family, and does not require working nights and weekends unless I really want it to
15. Has a workplace culture that is warm and relaxed, and fosters support and collaboration rather than criticism and competition
16. Offers the promise of stability—the sort of workplace that I can imagine to both exist and feed my interest twenty years down the road

Other than making this list, failed to produce anything at all today. Still slumped deep in a motivational hole. The thought of the radiolarian project failing fills me with dread, as useless as it is to feel anything at all, rather than just get things done. And the joy I thought I’d get from churning through the morphospace matrix just isn’t there, it’s just frustrating trying to make the morphologies fit with the characters I’ve chosen. They’re not nearly as well-chosen as I thought they were while I was putting them together. Arse.

Weird day. Started by finally reading the paper for lab meeting this afternoon. Then got into a conversation with Jc about the failures of my projects, why they had all failed, and why I wasn’t—as Dave Johnston had apparently commiserated last night—working on a project that was worthy of my intellect. While I was flattered at the compliment, this brought up all sorts of unnecessary feelings of frustration about all the things that haven’t worked out, all the ways in which I feel I’ve been misadvised, dropped, ignored, and just plain unlucky. I went on for way too long about it, but maybe I needed to vent. It’s been an overwhelming few days with the thoughts about life after graduation/job hunting, planning the wedding, and trying to move the wretched thesis along.

Then spent the promised hour researching the companies and organizations represented at the energy & environment jobs fair. Some reasonably interesting companies there—it’s actually kind of surprising to me how many companies seem to be doing something along the line of what Beau’s company does, albeit in a more specialized fashion… Consultants seem to be everywhere. Everywhere. After about an hour, it all started blurring together—sure, here or there a company had a circular job posting that I vaguely felt I might be able to press a square application into, but who the hell knows? Ultimately I still have no idea whether there’s a position for someone with my background and skills at any of these places. And even less of an idea whether I’d enjoy it.

After lunch, headed off to a very surprising careers fair—surprisingly positive. Met some really rather friendly and fun people involved in what seem to be pretty interesting lines of business, particularly the smaller ones. Walked away with a sense of having genuinely enjoyed chatting to people about what their companies do, and feeling tremendously more optimistic about the task of finding a job. I really didn’t expect the conversations to come as easily as they did. I think I’m really a lot better at it than I give myself credit for: there almost always seemed to be an interesting question, a relevant connection or a humorous detail that sprang to mind at the right moment and kept the momentum of each conversation up, the mood light, and the awkward silences at bay. It really helped boost confidence that two of the people I talked to were (very) recent Harvard grads, both of whom had gotten their jobs through this very career fair last year or the year before! With this many contacts made in just an hour and a half (about as much as I had in me before I was well and truly exhausted), I feel quite confident that something good will come my way in the next year and a half!

I feel like I should record my contact details and interactions somewhere, to keep a record of details, impressions, and leads—perhaps this blog is a good a place as any, being that I can search through it by post tags and categories. Memory is already beginning to fade, so here I go:

• I was the very first person through the gates, having arrived about ten minutes before the official start of the event, and so I enquired whether I would be awarded with a lollipop for having won the fair. I was rewarded with some chuckles and a Rolo by Brittany Lin, Manager at PowerAdvocate, as well as a promise that if I mentioned the lollipop she’d remember who I was. Clearly something to follow up on. I, on the other hand, am having trouble remembering much about the company. They sell software and “intelligence” to utility companies, and I seem to remember they had developers who wrote the software, who seemed to be fairly stationary in the Boston office, and then people in “Client Services” (where Brittany works) who travel a lot to the clients and help them implement the software. She seemed to emphasize it was quite a small, entrepreneurial sort of company where she could feed back quite quickly from her experiences with the client to the developers of the next version of the software. She had done an internship at some large, corporate firm (in the financial sector, I think—I can’t remember) and hated the rigid, cubicle-bound experience. She went to PowerAdvocate because she got the sense it was the exact opposite sort of company, and seemed to have found this to be true in her experience thus far. There did seem to be a lot of traveling involved with her, and her sister (who works on the financial side of the company I think) was up late into the night working during crunch time when new products come out (or something—don’t remember the details), but on the whole she seemed satisfied that the “work-life balance” was something the company actually realistically respected, unlike most of her experiences in the corporate world. In the year and a half she’s been there, she’s only worked on the weekends once or twice.
• Next, I spoke Julia Palatine, who works for Apex Green Roofs. The chances of getting a job with these guys are electron-microscopical, as they’re a tiny business and currently only hiring interns and a project manager (someone with construction experience—i.e. Stuart, not me), but what a cool company. They build and maintain green roofs—planting cool shit on top of new buildings, and going around to weed and maintain them. What a cool thing to do. She did say I should send my resume, and that you never know—and I will do that, just because you just never know what may come of it over the course of the next eighteen months. Anyway, I grilled her for a good long while about how their business works, how the roof gardens are built, and how they weather the winters… just because I thought it was really, really cool.
• My next stop was at the booth for Genscape. Sarah Knight—who works in their HR department—gave me a much clearer idea of what it is these guys do (or maybe I was just starting to hit my stride at this point). In any case, they sell information on energy (mostly electrical grid stuff)—capacities, flow, utilization—using all sorts of fancy magnetic sensors and their own software. They are hiring for a few different positions, but the one I talked to Sarah about was as a Power Market Analyst: these guys show up at work at 6, and have about 6 hours of super stressful work—they have to collect and analyze the data from overnight, and prepare a daily report for their clients—that gets sent out a couple of hours later, and then they spend the rest of the morning making calls to their clients to follow up on the reports. Sounds kind of intense, but weirdly interesting. The best part—by 2:30, they get to go home, and on Fridays they’re off well before that. How cool is that?! Their offices are on Huntington Ave in Boston. She also gave me the name of Mark Doolin, a graduate of the Anthropology department at Harvard, just down the hall. An undergrad, admittedly, but at least someone I could talk to who’d have a bit of a sense of where I’m coming from—and a way to start the conversation, at least.
• Next I stopped by the eye-catching display of MaxLite, a company that makes LED lights and is hoping to conquer various sectors of the market with this super-efficient technology. I talked to Charlie Andersen, a really young and enthusiastic guy, who also turned out to be a geology grad from Amherst (so we had both a common background and a common acquaintance, Whitey Hagadorn, to talk about). He seemed pretty jazzed about his job because it’s a fairly small company, and he’s both able to turn his ideas quickly into results, and is both able and called upon to perform a lot of different tasks—not a boring, do-the-same-thing-every-day sort of job. He’s also coming back to Harvard to do an MBA, so he may be a useful contact to have in any case—since the company is located in NJ and probably not the place I’d want to work.
• My last stop was at a company called Harvest Power, who are conveniently based in Waltham, and who turn organic waste into energy and profit (by operating a distributed network of biomass gasification, anaerobic digestion, and composting plants). It’s an interesting business model because it makes something useful out of waste that might otherwise be landfilled, but it also generates profit at both ends of the process—collecting revenue in the form of tipping fees paid by the waste producers at the input, as well as from the sale of the output (energy and compost soil). Again a good connection, Molly Bales, the woman I talked to, was a Harvard undergrad who minored in the EPS department, so again we had some common ground to chat about. There wasn’t too much in the way of direct practical application of her skills on the job, though she mentioned that the “wedge paper” (I assume this one), which she read in a Schrag class, had come up and turned out to be quite handy. She seemed to very much enjoy the job, and gave me the sense that it’s a quickly growing company. When she joined they considered themselves a start-up, which they no longer do; they aim to go public within two years and foresee a lot of growth in the meantime. They’re not hiring for specific positions (beyond internships—yech) at the moment, but she did suggest I send her a resume since these things can change rather quickly. Working in Waltham didn’t sound appealing, but Molly said she loves it—she lives near in Porter near the commuter rail, which drops off at the train station in Waltham just a short walk away from the office, so she’s selling her car as she has no more use for it. Not bad!

As a final hurrah for the week, and very much against my better intuition, I sent an email to the OEB administrator asking to be put on the schedule for Mike Foote’s visit the Tuesday after next. Mike is the Chicago paleobiology heavyweight, and Jerry Mitrovica was (rightly) very impressed by him—and has been urging very firmly that I meet with him while he’s here to try and see if I can impress him into offering me a post-doc in Chicago. Now, a post-doc is of course the last thing I want (and never mind that he might not be in Chicago that much longer since he’s here because OEB is trying to lure him to Harvard), but it can never hurt to make connections, especially when it’s with someone like Mike. He’ll probably think I’m an idiot (I have a good track record in that regard with Chicago folks—Mark Webster basically told me my project and the reasons for doing it were crap when he came through on EHAP, and of course there’s the years of history with Charles… well, Gene Hunt at least was really nice), but whatever. Who cares what he thinks, perhaps he’ll have something helpful to say.