I hear a lot about promoting diversity in science. Mostly, it’s about increasing the proportion of women. Sometimes it refers to people of color. Less frequently it’s about the inclusion of Latinos or people from other ethnic backgrounds. However, it’s rarely mentioned that in the sciences, people with disabilities are also underrepresented. Why is that – and what can be done to fix this? Inspired by a talk from Mahadeo Sukhai*, a blind scientist in cancer genetics, inclusivity is something I’ve been thinking about a lot over the last year. And once I started paying attention I came across a lot of insightful material: I found reports about providing more support for researchers with disabilities or about coding by voice, when typing is not an option. I stumbled on an interesting articles about how to make physics courses more accessible for blind students or welcoming deaf students into STEM. And chemist Mona Minkara has an awesome website with tools and resources for blind scientists or anyone teaching a blind scientist. But by far the most comprehensive guide I’ve read is Creating a Culture of Accessibility in the Sciences. As a 300-page book, it has been an interesting but tough read, providing lots of context and fundamental considerations, but it was also quite a slog to work my way though. So, for anyone interested in this book, here my highlights and disappointments!
I am that stage in my life, where many friends/colleagues with whom I previously studied or worked together are quitting academic science. As someone who’s never applied for a real job I had/have no idea what that really means, and have been quite horrified by some of their stories. Apparently, job hunting is a full-time job in it’s own right where you need to keep track of your tens-to-hundreds of applications in complex excel sheets and 90% of the applications end up in some black hole, never to be heard of again. One former lab mate mentioned how, at some point, he had vented his frustration by writing an absurd mock application, which – upon request – he has dug out and allowed me to reproduce here. I hope it brings a little smile to everyone’s face – and some encouragement to those people who are still out there searching… Continue reading
With spring finally here I decided that today should be a day of discovery. More specifically, I set out in search of something that I had first read about on the pages of Atlas Obscura – a tree, grown from seeds that had traveled to space with astronaut Stuart Roosa on the Apollo 14 Moon mission in 1971. Continue reading
I philosophize a lot about the role of journals and scientific publishing as part of the academic ecosystem – and especially how this ecosystem will change. Only last week my boss, Arjun, and I published a blog post (Results from the Guess the Impact Factor Challenge) analyzing how people perceive the of titles of scientific articles. But even back in 2015 I played around with predicting how the role of journals might shift. One of the predictions I made was that
…in The MacGyver age of content creation […], from pre-print servers (like BioRxiv) through science blogging and open lab notebooks, […] “legacy” journals as they exist today will become obsolete. […] Their role will change. So, taking a leaf from the media book, I predict that a key function of journals in the future will be to connect readers to relevant content published across the web.
Now it’s 2017 and Springer Nature just announced Recommended, “a new service which connects the research community with the most relevant content”.
It is definitely nice to be right sometimes 🙂
Looking forward, this also means that we should now be thinking about life after preprints: While in theory preprints could have a truly democratizing effect (anyone anywhere would be able to access papers without a paywall), in practice I’m not sure that potential will be realized. If people can’t trawl online content efficiently, they will rely on recommendation services, which – if in the wrong hands – may well introduce biases and favoritism. Thus, an effort to develop a fair (ideally mainly content/quality-driven) recommendation service hand-in-hand with the open access/preprint movement will be vital to create a healthy, balanced publishing landscape…
I’ve been hearing a lot about freedom of speech for scientists these last few weeks, inspired mainly by the efforts of the new US government to silence scientists and state employees, particularly on the topic of climate change. It’s been interesting: I’ve learned about what rights government employees have when it comes to freedom of speech, read some interesting comparisons with Canadian science (where government researchers were in a similar bind under the Harper administration, some good reads here and here), absolutely loved the “rogue” National Park Service twitter accounts and of course, I’m looking forward to the March For Science in April. I truly believe that Freedom of Speech should be a thing. Government agencies (or academic institutions in general) should not have the right to gag scientists based on idealogical or political interests.
However, there’s this thing that’s been kind of bugging me: I remember the Tim Hunt scandal two years ago (in case you don’t remember, you can read more here and a follow-up from 6 months later) and the Jim Watson one before that, when everyone was up in arms that renown, Nobel-prize-winning, member-of-a-gazillion-scientific organisations-and-boards scientists should NOT be allowed to say certain things. Which makes me wonder: what exactly are the rules of free speech for scientists? Continue reading
This year, I’ve received a surprisingly high number of e-mails from friends and former colleagues asking me for advice on what to do post-PhD. Now, first of all, I’ve been really honoured/humbled by this, although I wonder every time if I’m even the right person to dispense advice. After all, I don’t have a hell of a lot of experience and I certainly did get it wrong once*. However, having now had a year of correspondence with various people, I’ve realized that I do have something to say on the topic. I have also come to realize that a lot of the advice that I dish out to people resembles things that I have heard about online dating**, and so I’ve decided to write out some of it***: Continue reading
a.k.a. Musings about predictability in science
One of my favourite books is Death and the Penguin, by Ukrainian author Andrey Kurkov. The protagonists of the book are Viktor, a young writer who’s struggling to survive in post-Soviet Ukraine, and Misha, a king penguin, whom Viktor adopted from the local zoo after it went bankrupt and who now lives in Victor’s bath tub. To pay for bills (and frozen fish for Misha) Viktor accepts a job writing obituaries for the local newspaper. However, there’s a twist: the people he writes about aren’t dead – yet. Once he writes about their sad passing, they mysteriously die. For example, a senior politician he writes about, falls from a sixth-floor window: “was cleaning it for some reason, although apparently it wasn’t his. And at night.”, the editor of the newspaper comments.
Recently, I was reminded of this obscure plot in a somewhat surprising setting: as an avid listener to pretty much all Nature podcasts, I also follow Backchat, a monthly podcast produced by the Nature team, where they discuss some behind-the-scenes of various stories. One of the things I have found most fascinating is how (or rather when) some of the stories are written. Yes, you guessed it: they’re often written before they happen! Continue reading
You may have noticed that the frequency of posts on this has gradually declined over the last year or so. In part, this is because I’m not sure that the various forms of social media I follow (twitter and blogs mainly) have upheld the promise of democratization, “getting your voice heard” and hearing other people’s voices the way I had hoped they would. Continue reading
Today, the Office of the Dean at our Department sent an e-mail to the staff mailing list, informing them that a case of chickenpox had been diagnosed in a student. The e-mail also informed people they were decontaminating the areas where the student had classes, but wanted to make people aware of the possibility of exposure and asked them to look out for symptoms of chickenpox, just in case.
So, first of, I was fascinated to “encounter” a case of chickenpox. Of course, I know that the vaccine isn’t 100% effective, but the number of cases are so small in the countries where I’ve worked I didn’t really expect to ever encounter one.
However, what also struck me was that the e-mail was sent to the staff mailing list. Now, in case you’re not familiar with the US academic system, postdocs do not count as staff. And this isn’t just a wording issue. It means that postdocs are not eligible for a bunch of things that staff are entitled to (eg here at UPenn, staff are allowed to take 2 classes per semester, postdocs are not). We are also not on the staff mailing list. Which may seem like a minuscule detail. But considering that e-mails concerning important issues (which apply to everyone in the department, not just staff – such as a case of chickenpox) are sent are sent out via this mailing list, it shows just how these little things could potentially have wide-ranging consequences. Surely, including postdocs on such e-mails is not too much to ask for?
(Oh, and just a footnote: I received the e-mail because our tech forwarded it. Other e-mails we receive via our PI. I’m not sure other postdocs in the department are so lucky to have co-workers who look out for them.)
The last few weeks have been busy: I was visiting old friends in Germany and San Francisco and other old friends came to visit me in my new home, Philadelphia. Since most of my friends are also scientists, naturally much of our conversation evolved around academia, gossip about old co-workers and experiences with new labs. Interestingly, although our careers have diverged extensively, there was one recurring theme that linked many problematic experiences: PIs who don’t listen.Continue reading