My resemblance to Blanche DuBois has not been remarked on before but last Wednesday evening it was unmistakeable.
There I was travelling on the tube to the TalkScience event at the British Library when, like Tennessee Williams’ fateful Southern belle, I found myself entirely dependent on the kindness of strangers. Still recovering from a cold, I was suddenly overcome by a severe coughing fit. I coughed and coughed, clamped a hanky to my mouth, coughed and coughed, fought tears that streamed from my eyes and kept on coughing. In my head I was imagining my fellow passengers’ rising alarm—“Dear God, he’s got TB!”—when the gentleman next to me dug into his bag and offered me a bottle of water. I croaked gratitude and drank, the cool fluid soothing my ragged throat. If you’re out there Sir, please accept my profound thanks once again.
And thence, finally, to the British Library where I squeezed in late at a table shared by Frank and Matt and joined in a room-wide discussion on “Scientific Researchers and Web 2.0: Social NotWorking?” Afterwards I chatted to Maxine and Cameron and a couple of chaps from Mendeley. From these conversations I got tips on using aggregators and may have made a small but useful suggestion on how to enhance reference sharing. All this with people who, until recently, were strangers to me: we’d never met except via Web2.0.
When I got home I read Pamela Ronald’s beautiful post on her experience of a moment of scientific creativity, left a comment to express my admiration and got a reply from her containing the line “Encouraging words from fellow scientists helps to keep one going…” Which is certainly the case – even if they are strangers. Richard Grant’s “recent post”:http://network.nature.com/people/rpg/blog/2008/09/14/on-depression—a-personal-perspective on depression (and the ensuing comment thread) was a further stunning example of that.
But then again, it struck me that one of the finest features of the scientific culture is that we are not strangers to each other. We know that engaging is simply part of the process. One of the Mendeley chaps—a programmer, not a scientist—asked me how I linked up with collaborators. Conferences are a good route, I told him, but it is also possible to read a paper, think up an experiment that the author and I might usefully do together and then just send them an email and take it from there. Most times, an interesting discussion and possibly some valuable science will ensue. The intercourse is not benighted by discussions of fees or contracts (though advisedly some thought may need to be given to authorship of future papers!).
I know, I know – there is plenty of ruthless competition going on as well and the world is not just. But that baseline connectedness between scientists is a thing of wonder and is for me one of the most delightful aspects of being a scientist. You can depend on it. I know I do.
sniff
Come here ya big lummox and give me hug.
Lummox? I said I resembled Blanche, not Stanley!
He’s got the legs for it. Grant, I mean.
And I’m surprisingly strong.
For a cell biologist.
Stephen, a very nice summary for one big reason we became scientists. And why we should be able to make this Web 2.0 stuff for scientists work.
I really would have liked to go to this talk. But the Floo Network was broken on that day.
Thanks Martin. Floo network – is that Web3.0? If you’re into Second Life, I think you could have attended by that route – don’t know if they keep a record of these things?
@Henry – that’s not what I saw!
Oh I feel bad, now! I hope you didn’t think I was being heartless. I observed your coughing and drinking from said water bottle and first hand, and said nothing sympathetic at all! How heartless of me – I think I was probably being very English and thinking you were choking on something, so would politely wait until you’d finished. Aren’t I awful? I hope you have recovered by now, my very best wishes in any event. Doubled, to make up for my callousness the other night.
I agree with the sentiments in your post, and also that it is great to be able just to contact someone you’ve never met and ask them something, and have such interesting and educational conversations. One of the many pleasures of working for Nature for me is the many, many occasions, wearing any number of hats, that I’ve called up a scientist out of the blue (usually after reading some of his/her papers or searching on the internet a bit, or hearing a recommendation), and asked them various things – eg to explain their work or for help in understanding something. (Yes, also things like “will you write an article” or “will you referee a ms” but I think these questions aren’t quite what you mean in this particular post.)
What I have learned over the years is that scientists are incredibly generous people with their time; they are enthusiasts for their research areas; and are delighted to inform, educate, explain and advise you in all sorts of ways. Fantastic!
Great post sir. It is indeed one of the under appreciated parts of scientificry (_cf._ H Gee). And one I am now
insipidinspired to try and turn into something for lablit it’s a hard part of the job to explain to non-scientists, but certainly one of the (potentially) more rewarding.Maxine – you have no need to feel bad. By the time I’d got to the library I was feeling much better.
I’m sure the sense that it is easy to make new connections in science is widely shared but wanted to celebrate it a little. Indeed the web2.0 thing is I guess simply a new off-shoot of that and the relatively civilised atmosphere of NN and similar science-focused forums is a reflection of the positive attitude that many scientists take to communication. Part of the amateur ethos that is so engrained in us?
There was a nice piece in Saturday’s Guardian review section on the biographer Richard Holmes who has written a new book about 18th Century scientists. He remarks about the willingness of scientists to explain their work to any interested party (often using the salt and pepper pots, it would seem).
Cheers Ian – I look forward to your next contribution! You still in London?
I have often thought it strange that scientists are considered bad communicators, when communication between scientists has always struck me as open. I often visit labs to talk to scientists about their research and I’m always impressed, as Maxine says, how generous they are with their time (and not just time, I am often offered lunch as well!).
There is so a lot of love in this room.
Thanks for the great post, Stephen. And for pointing out that Holmes interview yesterday, a quote from which has made it into tonight’s issue of LabLit. (Along with probably the most amusing poem we have ever published – but that’s another story.)
Thanks for the post, Stephen.
Sara, I agree that the withdrawn uncommunicative scientist is an outdated sterotype.
Thankfully that can now be thrown out. We now see more and more new labs designed to maximize communication (with windows too).
I had forgotten about the lunches, Sarah – another perk of being a scientist!
Jenny – that’s a great poem – same league as Digital Cuttlefish (?) whom I only became aware of from Cath Ennis’s recent comment at Mind the Gap.
Pamela – I guess it will be easier to throw out the stereotypes now that we have all these windows…!
Cheers Ian – I look forward to your next contribution! You still in London?
…speaking of lunches…yes, for another few days…
That would be nice – will see what I can do. Will email…