Good Mentorship, Passover and “Let my people go!”

Several days ago I had scheduled a lab lunch with my group, where I was supposed to treat everyone to Sushi in honor of a paper that one of my students recently had accepted. However, someone was sick, and we had to postpone. So I found myself in the unusual situation of not having brought my own lunch, which I like to eat in front of the computer screen. So off it was to the cafeteria.

As I put together a salad from the salad bar, I was amused to see that beside the rolls and croissants was a tray full of Matzah–that bland and untasty form of unleavened bread that Jews typically eat on Passover. Personally, I can’t stand the stuff, and when I lived in Israel I would drive to nearby Arab villages for fresh Pita–or barring that, actually bake the unavailable stuff in my own oven.

While I am clearly a member of the tribe described by Cromercrox recently–(to make it perfectly clear, I am NOT a Norwich fan…)–I am certainly not a practicing or believing member. Nonetheless, in my own atheistic, secular and somewhat anti-social fashion, I do possess a sense of belonging. And I followed Sarah Palin’s “Blood Libel” comment in the wake of the Giffords shooting with some serious concerns.

Passover, however, with its legend, folklore and myths, does contain a pretty strong message–summed up in the plea to the Egyptian Pharaoh to “Let my people go!”

This phrase has become extremely well used in modern history, with countless examples of peoples crying out to be freed: the African American slaves, the blacks in South Africa during the apartheid years, jailed political prisoners and so on. However, it has not typically been associated with science labs, Ph.D. students and post-doctoral researchers.

While I feel awkward boasting about my own achievements, I see little recourse this time–added to the fact that this particular achievement really DOES mean a lot to me: this past week I was awarded the University of Nebraska Medical School’s “Outstanding Mentor of Graduate Students Award“. Aside from the pride at being nominated by former students and selected from a large pool of nominees (and being the faculty member at the earliest stage of his/her career to receive this honor), this caused me to reflect a good deal about the meaning of mentorship.

The summary of my philosophy of mentorship is described in the brief and edited interview that I had. But I would like to add the important Passover message of “Let My People Go!”

It seems that this is frequently the root of conflict between mentor and student, or mentor and postdoc. Ordinarily, the goals of the student and postdoc mesh with those of the mentor. However, some mentors see their goal as extracting every last bit of work from the lab trainees, disregarding their interests entirely. At the same time, the trainee wants and needs to go forward with his/her career. An egregious mentor will push the student or postdoc on and on, in an endless cycle, using his/her power over the situation abusively. In the US, this can frequently end in Ph.D. degrees that take 7 or 8 years to attain, and postdoctoral fellowships that go on to infinity.

“Just need to finish up a few more experiments, and then we can publish a bunch of papers. You don’t want to quit now when all the credit is there for you, just around the next bend?”

Ever hear that phrase, or something similar?

Yes, a Ph.D. student needs to complete a body of work, and yes, a postdoc needs to publish papers for career advancement. But generally speaking, if it doesn’t happen in the first 4-5 years, it ain’t gonna happen.

So I say –listen to the student and postdoc who are whispering, or even imagining those words: “Let My People Go!”

And have a great spring, Easter, Passover or whatever you may or may not choose to celebrate.

Posted in Education, research, science | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

“Anne Frank and Me”, Science and Humanity

I cried. Not just a lone tear running down my cheek, but a wet stream that went on and on, long after the actors took their final bows, and my daughter came down from the stage.

The scene was the auditorium, where my daughter’s Magnet middle school put on three one-act plays: two comedies (one written by a student in the school, and both directed by students in the school)—followed by a solemn change in mood as the students put on a powerful Holocaust play called: “Anne Frank and Me”.

“Anne Frank and Me,” was based on the novel by Cherie Bennett and Jeff Gottesfeld. In this stage adaption, which apparently diverges somewhat from the novel, the protagonist is a typical 15-year-old girl named Nicole living in the US in 2011. Her affluent parents, if not actually meeting the formal definition of Holocaust deniers, certainly convey the message that the death toll of the Holocaust was exaggerated. The girl, who shows little interest in reading “The Diary of Anne Frank” for school, encounters the deniers who claim that the entire story was made up by Jewish-Zionists (see the section on DENIALS and LEGAL ACTION). Shortly afterward, Nicole meets with an accident, and most of the play takes place in the course of her “awakening”—a sleep/coma dream, where she is transposed in time to 1942 as a young Jewish girl in France and forced to see first-hand what life for Jews under the Nazi occupation was really like.

This is a very emotionally powerful play, and the drama teacher, Mr. Schik, did a phenomenal job with an outstanding cast of students in this superb rendition. Despite the use of minimal sets and props, the message clearly reverberated across the room and I was not the only one in tears. Especially compelling was the final scene in which the hero Nicole, her little sister (played by my daughter) and the mother are transported eastward across Europe to the death camps in cattle cars under unbearable conditions.

In this scene, Anne Frank herself boards the train in Amsterdam, adding an electrifying element to the historical drama. But the power in this scene is conveyed by the wonderful acting of the silent passengers, whose eyes spoke a lifetime of sorrow as they move relentlessly onwards east and to their deaths. A chilling and emotional ending to the play.

Finally, in what I see as a huge tribute to modern American society and this school in particular, I cannot fail to point out the multi-cultural composition of the cast in the play. Nothing could have made this play more powerful than to realize that the cast and lead parts were played by African American children, Asian American children, Mexican/Hispanic children, Caucasian children, and any number of mixtures of the above. Add to that, of course, the variety of religious denominations, and this becomes a truly remarkable achievement. And yes, it was not even trivial to note the multi-cultural make-up of the actors; because the acting was so compelling, the audience (at least in my case) did not even stop to consider whether a Parisian-Jewish family in 1942 would be likely to be multi-racial. This only added to the power of the play.

Despite my emotional outbreak toward the end of the performance, the Holocaust and its horrors are not new to me. I have read a considerable body of literature about the Second World War and particularly the Holocaust, including non-fiction, historical fiction and fiction. I have seen many films and plays, and I have visited Israel’s Holocaust Museum (Yad Vashem) on half a dozen occasions, as well as the newer United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, DC. But for some reason “Anne Frank and Me” brought back a specific long-repressed memory from about 20 years ago.

It was back at the Hebrew University at the Givat Ram science campus in about 1989. I was in my third and final year of the undergraduate program—the year we finally had an opportunity to select whatever courses were of interest to us from any of the major realms of biology. I chose the majority of my courses in biochemistry and cell and molecular biology, with a smattering of microbiology, genetics and zoology. All botany and ecology were banished (no offense, for any of you who may be botanists or ecologists–just not my cup of tea…).

One of the zoology courses was really a physiology course that taught organ systems at a pretty advanced level. The lecturer, who must have been close to 70 at the time–and I might add who was extremely unpleasant but at the same time an outstanding instructor—taught us about the function of the kidney in fascinating detail.

When we were done with the kidney, he then began an introduction to the body’s mechanisms for thermoregulation, and this is something I will never forget. As a teacher, he was driven to teach us about how the body controls its temperature, and the experimental evidence that led to the current body of knowledge. At the same time, as a Holocaust survivor, he was clearly conflicted about what to do. It appears that this has been a difficult ethical issue since the Holocaust.

The reason for this, he explained to us, was that a significant amount of knowledge about thermoregulation was derived from throwing Jews and other concentration camp prisoners into baths of ice water for varying lengths of time, and later doing further experimentation and postmortem work on these human experimental victims. For those who can stomach it, Wikipedia has a fairly comprehensive article about the specific Nazis who were involved in this torture. The American Public Broadcasting Station (PBS) has also aired a session about experiments and torture during the Holocaust on its science program “NOVA”, entitled “The Holocaust on Trial“.

It was difficult to concentrate in class after our instructor’s comments. At the same time, it was an incredibly important lesson. Despite high levels of formal education and training—as physicians and scientists—it was obvious that these Nazis were devoid of any semblance of humanity. So while we scientists need to continue to lobby for better science education in schools and universities, we must not forget that a well-rounded education to emphasize the significance of being human beings–capable of empathy– is equally important.

This is precisely the goal of productions such as “Anne Frank and Me”.

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NIH and my moral compass

A couple of weeks ago I had the opportunity to visit the National Institutes of Health (NIH) in Bethesda, Maryland for the first time in 7.5 years since I completed my postdoctoral research there in 2003.

I will always remember Maryland as a magical place, full of wonderful trails to walk, magnificent trees and forests, and of course the fantastic opportunities of the NIH.

The NIH that I encountered was special because of its independence of grants and the regular political issues surrounding the funding of the laboratory. Perhaps I was naïve, but I don’t think so; for me the NIH was pure science.

Having been invited as a seminar speaker, despite serious concerns a few weeks back about the passing of the budget and the potential lockout of NIH researchers, I found the NIH (or at least those I came into contact with) still populated by outstanding researchers with a very strong commitment to basic research.

I very much understand the idea that the general public wants accountability to the tax dollars that go towards research. However, as important as preclinical research is (now commonly dubbed “translational research”), I’ve been of the opinion for many years that there is absolutely no replacement for basic research. How can we possibly understand what causes cancer cells to proliferate incessantly, when we don’t really understand how a normal cell grows and divides?

I don’t mean to say that clinical trials should be slowed or jeopardized in any way. However, I do think that basic researchers have to stop “going underground” and that it’s time to become unapologetic for the desire to push new frontiers forward.

For a number of years now I’ve been increasingly concerned that science–rather biomedical science–is evolving and diverging into two radically different directions. The first direction is that of clinical science. In this type of research, it matters not what the mechanism of action of a specific drug is, but simply how effective it is. The researchers are concerned with the concentrations of the drug, its mode of delivery, its toxicity, and of course most importantly, its efficacy.

In the second diverging direction of research, the researchers are primarily concerned with basic fundamental studies; figuring out how things actually work. All of the potential applications are therefore left for the future, with the emphasis clearly on understanding the molecular basis and mechanisms by which cells, proteins, and DNA function.

My underlying concern is not that these two realms are showing signs of diverging farther apart, but rather that funding bodies are increasingly expecting researchers to be able to fulfill both of these two spheres simultaneously. This, in my view, is disastrous.

Researchers who specialize on tumor models in mice will not and cannot (in most cases) do the rigorous types of biochemical and cell biological research that are prevalent in the world of the basic researchers. One cannot expect them to have the expertise to be able to carry out high quality, controlled experiments (for the most part) in these areas. On the other hand, these researchers are extremely accomplished at carrying out the preclinical/translational studies that basic researchers are clueless about.

At the same time, funding bodies are putting pressure on basic researchers who do rigorous and exceptional studies at the level of cells, molecules, proteins and nucleotides, to start working in animal models. Zebrafish, fruit flies, worms, mice and even human samples. People such as myself, who have undergone extensive training in biochemistry and cell biology, see this as a huge waste of resources and time. When I need data from animal models, my best bet is to talk to the people–my colleagues–who already work in these animal models and have trained and developed expertise in these systems, and not to try these studies all on my own in an amateur fashion.

So for me it was a great pleasure to give a talk in the presence of biochemists and cell biologists who completely appreciate the value of my own basic research. Perhaps my greatest delight was that after the talk, in the question-and-answer session, no one asked me whether the proteins I work on are up-regulated or down-regulated in cancer cells; the only questions I received were those that related to the fundamental mechanisms that I described.

Thus, my visit to NIH recharged my batteries and once again provided me with a scientific “moral compass”.

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The dual nature of gender bias

I wasn’t intending to write this blog. Not at all. I’d rather write about science–in fact I have two or three drafts that I have been thinking about for some time, and would much prefer to write. But like a moth drawn to a candle’s flame, here I go.

I am a father. I am a husband. There are two very close females in my life. And I am a human (although there is some dissent on this issue from my various foes and detractors). For these reason, when I read about gender bias, my blood pressure skyrockets.

Imagine the mercury as I read the following article, in the Israeli newspaper “Yediot Achronot” (translated loosely as “latest news”):

RELIGIOUS SCHOOL EXPELS BEAUTY QUEEN
Outstanding student from central Israel pays heavy price for taking part in local beauty pageant. ‘All the dresses I wore were modest,’ she tells Ynet. Education Ministry: Student chose to ignore school’s instructions

Tomer Velmer
Published: 04.13.11

A principal of a state religious school in central Israel has expelled a student for taking part in a local beauty pageant and winning the contest.

Maayan Mader, an outstanding student and a representative of the school’s student council, decided to sign up for a beauty pageant in the city of Gedera about two months ago, after ensuring that the contest did not include swimsuits or provocative clothing.

“At the end of the event, when I was declared the winner, I felt like the happiest person on earth. I never believed I would win,” she recounted in a conversation with Ynet. “We’re a small community and everyone supported and applauded me, and there was no doubt that this was the greatest experience in my life.”

Mader’s euphoria was interrupted two days later, when she was summoned to the principal’s office and expelled from school for taking part in the beauty pageant. According to the principal, the contest’s participants wore sleeveless dresses – violating the school’s rules, which require modest clothing.

‘School cannot intervene in private life’

“I was in shock and didn’t know what to say,” Mader told Ynet. “Even in my worst nightmares I never thought that a beauty pageant would cause such a mess, especially as I was strict about wearing modest and unrevealing dresses.

“I have a lot of respect for the school’s rules and procedures, but the principal cannot intervene in my private life and tell me what to do. This is my last year in school and I want to graduate in the best way possible. I feel helpless, but I believe everything will be
okay,” she added.

Mader’s furious parents turned to the local council head, who promised to help.
“It hurts me to see my daughter like this,” her mother said. “She went to the pageant for fun, and when she was announced the winner I felt very proud and happy. We must not forget that she is about to take her matriculation exams and the school must not destroy her future like this.”

The Education Ministry said in response, “When the school learned of the student’s participation in the beauty pageant, her parents were summoned and informed that such a contest contradicts the values of religious education.

“The student chose to ignore the instructions, and the case is currently being looked into by the department for state religious education.”

Religious residents protest decision

Many of Gedera’s religious residents slammed the decision to expel Mader.
“I am a religious woman, but with all due respect, this is not Iran,” said a woman named Ester. “The contest was very respectable and the girls were charming. It’s a shame that the Education Ministry has decided to spoil this experience for them.”

Meir, another resident, added that “it was a beautiful event which brought Gedera’s religious and secular residents closer.
Unfortunately, instead of using this event to initiate joint activities between the sectors, the Education Ministry is sparking feelings of polarization and alienation.”

The event’s producer, Guy Harari, said he had reached an agreement with the council head that the pageant would not includeswimsuits and revealing clothes due to Gedera’s large religious community.
“I come from a traditional home, and I’m aware of the sensitivity among the religious community, so I made sure to make this promise to council head Yoel Gamliel, who is a religious man himself.

“We must remember that these are not haredi (ultraorthodox-S.C.) girls, but observant girls whose bodies were not revealed during the event,” Harari added.

“It’s a shame that instead of supporting the community, the education system is doing the exact opposite. Instead of appreciating the contest’s huge contribution to the community and to the girls, they are only looking at the negative aspects.”

So as a male who considers himself a feminist, how am I supposed to react to this story? The situation is so awful, and so anti-female, that I don’t even know where to start.

Beauty contests are an insult to the human race. The whole idea is simply degrading, and every cell in my body is crying out that we MUST teach children from an early age that people should be judged by their actions, and not their appearances. I truly see the IDEA of beauty contests not only as repulsive, but as a serious threat to ever achieving gender equality.

However, it is a two way street.

The young lady notes “At the end of the event, when I was declared the winner, I felt like the happiest person on earth. I never believed I would win. We’re a small community and everyone supported and applauded me, and there was no doubt that this was the greatest experience in my life.”

As long as mothers and fathers support the participation of their daughters in these so-called competitions, they are basically legitimizing the treatment of women as objects. And yet, one reads only encouragement of this practice by families, friends and neighbors.

How ironic that the caption over the picture of the young woman in question said “Iran in Gedera?” (the town in Israel where this occurred). The amazing thing is that the article is written mostly from the standpoint of how unfair the religious school is for expelling the young woman for participation in an event that is unbecoming to a religious young lady.

So we are faced with a double insult–religious discrimination against the freedom of the girl to do as she pleases outside the school, and to dress as she sees fit. Yet at the same time–what an IRONIC situation, no one is paying the slightest notice to the fact that beauty contests are immoral (except, perhaps–again ironically, the religious school principal).

With a mess like this, how does one even begin to fight gender bias?

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Parental Science Geeks, Beware-2

Are YOU a science geek? Have you ever wondered what impact this might on your family?

It’s another scene of revenge from the “Children of Science Geeks”! Beware!

Comic provided courtesy of M.C.

How do scientists change their image when even their children laugh at them?

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Occam’s Thermometer

Way back when I was an Occam’s Typewriter Irregular—that is to say, before Henry supplied me with his magic evolution-enhanced pellets—I wrote a blog about critical thinking and children.

Now as a Regular—thanks to the Gee pellets—I would like to add to the idea of critical thinking from a different angle. It’s science-related, but because science is founded on logic, it relates to everyday life as well as science.

As scientists, (and physicians—not me, but from discussions, it’s prevalent in medicine as well), we are often guilty of doing one of two things:

1) Ignoring the elephant in the room
2) Seeing zebras instead of horses

For today’s blog, I will also ignore the elephant in the room, and focus on zebras and horses.

As a certified hypochondriac, I am highly accomplished at seeing zebras instead of horses. Every itch is a stitch, every pang is a bang, every nerve is something to observe.

Fortunately for me, my perspective is much better in dealing with science that is unrelated to my own body and its functions (or lack thereof), in which cases I often spot the horses masquerading as zebras. But sometimes I am too busy or preoccupied, and we have a safari emerging in the lab.

Some weeks ago, I began to hear rumors that ligations were not working in the lab—for those of you who are not molecular biologists—I don’t mean tubal ligations. We didn’t have a sudden spurt of pregnancies in the lab (Cath, do I get on your honor roll for that one? Sudden spurt of pregnancies.).

In fact, even simple transformations (no monsters) were not working and the plates of bacteria were not growing.

What to do? It must be the bacteria. They were stored for too long in the freezer. New competent bacteria were ordered and used—but no luck said de duck.

Okay, bacteria are not growing on the plates—it must be the bacterial agar on the plates that’s not right. Can you non-molecular biologists think of a control? Well done—scrounge a few plates from the lab next door and try again. Scrounging is always an essential component of controls.

And?

No luck said de duck.

Hmmm. This is a tough one. Let’s consult Dr. C., when he gets back from wherever on earth he is. Did you try our neighbor’s bacterial incubator? Perhaps the temperature in our incubator is fluctuating and getting too high—or too low?

Good idea—hey, the bacterial plates are growing nicely next door. Should we unplug our own incubator and just use the one next door that’s really at 37 degrees?

No and yes—as I fly out somewhere else for a meeting or seminar. Use the one next door for now, to get the work done, but we need to figure out what’s wrong with our own incubator.

It turns out that our bacterial incubator doesn’t have an actual temperature setting—it’s a cheapie—it just has a scale from 1-10, and one has to find the number that corresponds with the desired temperature, leaving a thermometer inside for the calibration.

Responsibility. We’ve called a technician to come and fix the incubator. He’s ordered a part that should keep the temperature stable, say the people in the lab.

Part ordered, labor done, incubator fixed. Guess what? The scientists forgot about one of the key principles that make science conceivable—that makes it testable: to always look for the simplest solution wherever possible. To look for the horses rather than the zebras. This principle, as my colleagues here on OT are well familiar, has been named—well—Occam’s uhhh, Occam’s Thermometer.

Yes ladies and gentlemen, all the labor was for naught. The simple thermometer placed inside the incubator was faulty. Another science lesson for the masses. Occam’s Thermometer.

Posted in humor, research, science, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Beating anger, damnit!

I wasn’t intending to write this post–it just came to me in a sudden flash.

Damn! Xv$$#5&&&!! That feels better. I wonder how the following e-mail arrived in my inbox. Who tattled on me? It must be one of you from the UK! I’ll show you all! $$#$@%%^&^%$#%

Beating Anger – Anger Management

This workshop has only 16 FREE available places, and we expect them to be booked up extremely quickly.

Hello

The sufferers workshop has been designed for women, men and young people who have and do suffer from emotional and verbal abuse from others be it in their family or elsewhere in their lives.

Note: This will be the first time this workshop is being delivered in the UK, hence why it is free (by donation only). Therefore it’s important to note that it is not in any way refined and we would appreciate feedback to improve future workshops.

How This workshop might help you to draw the line!

* To empower the sufferer whereby they are able to draw the line and recognize that they cannot fix, rescue, or help someone who has high levels of aggressive behaviour.
* The decisions you can take after attending this workshop
* To recognize there own issues with anger and the process necessary to deal with it
* Insight into where to go next in the relationship
* Communicating feelings without inciting the abuser
* Freedom to choose a healthy lifestyle and appropriate courses of action
* Strategies to defuse anger, aggression and hostility
* Learning to prioritise your own needs
* Increasing your self esteem
* Reducing your stress
* Developing a support network

For more information about sufferers of emotional and verbal abuse, click here www.beatinganger.com/sufferer
To book your place, please click here and scroll to the bottom of the page

WORKSHOP DETAILS

Date : 14th May, 2011
Location : East Grinstead, venue To Be Announced.
Time : 9am – 5pm
Cost: Free. Donations accepted.

Please bring food to share.

Terms : £50 refundable deposit to be paid one week before the one day workshop which will be returned on the basis that you attend the full day’s workshop. This will be refunded upon completion of the workshop.

We hope you understand that we have to charge a refundable deposit due to people commiting to attending and not arriving which means that people who are desperate to attend, cannot attend as we have limited spaces.

Places available on a first come, first served basis with a maximum of 16 people.

To book your place, please click here and scroll to the bottom of the page

Hr
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book.jpgWe all feel angry at times. It can be an uncomfortable emotion, yet is almost a taboo subject. We get very little guidance in our culture on how to deal with it, and the guilt or violence that may accompany it. Here is the perfect book to help anyone from 16-75 years old to beat their anger – or help anyone else to do the same.

Aimed at parents, families, young adults and teachers, social and youth workers, health care professionals, managers, customer service departments, psychotherapists and counsellors – there cannot be many men or women who have not felt uncomfortable when they are angry, and wondered what to do about it.

Price : £7.99 plus postage £2.50 from Beatinganger.com

If you think I’m angry now, wait until I get the reviews from my manuscript…

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An image that’s hard to shake

Reading (King) Richard’s blog “Silence is Golden” that addresses his very interesting short story published on LabLit.com, I couldn’t help thinking about an issue that has been bothering me these past couple weeks. Richard’s story occurs in a “lablit” setting—but it transverses the lab and brings up a very real, imaginable and interesting little scenario—that in my humble view would be of interest to anyone who enjoys fiction. The lab setting may hold particular interest for those of us who are scientists or are interested in a scientist’s lifestyle—but the key issue is that it is literature. Period. Full stop.

Back in October 2010, shortly before I became acquainted with the groups of scientists/authors involved online blogging, not long before OT was hatched, I published my first novel. Matter Over Mind was something I dreamed up and actually completed as a graduate student in Jerusalem in 1997. The subject matter definitely falls into the category of lablit although it’s not exclusively about life in the lab (a scientific researcher seeking tenure and struggling to overcome a traumatic childhood caused by a parent with bipolar disorder).

I realize now that the book certainly could have benefited from some literary editing (although it was very heavily copy-edited and proofed for grammar/spelling). However, I am happy that I made the decision to self-publish; except for real, experienced writers and editor types who have read it and (justifiably) critiqued the writing style, it seems that the vast majority of readers were truly very interested in the book (and blissfully unaware of stylistic issues).

So far, I have probably sold close to 200 copies since publication nearly 6 months ago, and for the most part I have no idea who purchased the novel. Perhaps one quarter of my known readers are scientists—or at least people peripherally connected to science. However, many more readers are friends and/or acquaintances with no relationship to science. My impression is that they were just as interested in the subject matter as the scientists.

Several months ago I entered Matter Over Mind into Amazon’s Breakthrough award for New Authors (ABNA). There were 5000 entrants in the general fiction section. I managed to pass into the second round, where 1000 of the original 5000 entries remained, and then a month later, I was notified that Matter Over Mind was selected to go on to the quarter finals along with 249 other novels from the original 5000. At this point, the ABNA judges (literary critics) uploaded critiques for us aspiring authors. I have included below one of my critiques:

ABNA Expert Reviewer

What is the strongest aspect of this excerpt?
Excellently done introduction to setting of work, the halls of academe, particularly the scientific research labs. Introduction to the hand-to-hand infighting that characterizes the setting. Very well-done introduction to leading characters, narrator Miller, Neal, Smithers, Opera-Singh. Good backstory on narrator, introducing Grandpa Joe, Grandma Sara’s tragic death, chilly prairie city of Regina, narrator’s siblings, Ervin and Cindy, narrator’s missing parents. All done w/underlying good sense of humor. Liked the hints that Miller will soon be concentrating on bi-polar disease, there’s so much of it around.

What aspect needs the most work?
As Miller states in his introductory remarks, most people probably consider scientists to be boring goody goody geeks. Think author is going to have to work hard to come up with a plot that interests a wide audience and keeps them interested. Don’t think internal warfare at university will do it. Don’t know what author has in mind.

What is your overall opinion of this excerpt?
I liked it very much, consider it exceptionally well-done, tho, as above, I don’t know how wide a readership it would attract. Clearly written by a grownup, intelligent man, for other grownup intelligent people, don’t know how many such have time for reading not in their area of concentration.

Initially, I read the critique and was mildly pleased. But upon rereading it, I felt a distinct scientific déjà vu. Could this be the same editor (possibly a friend of (King) Henry, Celebrated Nutritionist and editor at a favorite weekly scientific journal beginning with the letter N) who had dismissed my manuscript without sending it out for review because “although it was good, sound science, well-performed and well-written, and has addressed and resolved important scientific questions, it is not interesting enough for the wide reading audience that frequents our journal?”

Isn’t that almost identical to the critique I was now getting for fiction? Well-done, well-written, unique, but—not interesting enough for MOST of our readers.

How is it that reviewers for my science papers, and reviewers for my fiction have ganged up on me? Is it possible that, like many of us—who do science by day and fiction by night—there are reviewers who review science by day and fiction by night?

And what does this say about the image of scientists? Will we forever be uninteresting Geeks, while books about lawyers, trials, murders and police capture the imagination of the public? While there may be a renaissance of lablit (or possibly not), I am having doubts as to whether the image of scientists has improved much in the eyes of the general public.

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A sense of entitlement

Some years ago when I was looking for a job, I had an interview at a university on the East Coast of the US. One of the search committee members picked me up, and on the way we had a conversation. I asked what her impression was regarding the level of the students enrolled in the graduate program in her department. Her answer was as follows: “Generally, they’re okay, but you have to remember that they’re not like you or me.”

That was a very telling statement, but it turned out in subsequent interviews that I heard the same thing over and over: the students of today are not as good as the students of yesteryear.

Is this really the case? And if so, why?

Over the course of the last few years, I’ve been thinking about this more and more.

I feel that I’m in a better position to attempt to answer these questions now; I have four or five of my own graduate students at this moment, and I’ve had two that have graduated from my lab in the last couple years. In addition, I serve on our graduate (admissions) committee, I am chair of our graduate program curriculum committee and I teach and coordinate a course for graduate students.

And my conclusion? Yes, and no. I have encountered outstanding students who are as good or better than outstanding students that I knew from my own generation of students. In these outstanding students, the motivation that I witnessed was certainly not less than that of highly motivate students from my own graduate school days. At the same time, I believe that there is a general decline in the mean—in the average student. By decline, my intention is that there is a new means of perception that has crept into the ranks of many of today’s students. I call it “a sense of entitlement”. And I think it is a highly problematic view of the world for someone who intends on becoming a scientist.

As a child, I will remember the stories that my pediatrician father regaled me with concerning his own studies in medical school. The professor who chain-smoked cigarette after cigarette so that none of the students could even see the blackboard through the hazy fog in the room. The story of the anatomy professor who talked so fast that no one could possibly copy down notes on the slides he showed. The extent to which my father and his fellow students went—as far as bribing the custodian to let them in after-hours so that they could complete their notes.

When I myself was a graduate student, instructors used overhead projectors as teaching tools. When the professors would speak too quickly, we students would catch them after class and ask to borrow the overhead transparencies. We were always grateful when the instructors would acquiesce.

In the high-tech world of today, our teaching is done on “smart-boards”, using PDF or PowerPoint presentations. Moreover, it has become standard fare for professors to prepare in advance and post these presentations a week before the actual class takes place. In the classes I teach, it is rare for me to see students actually “taking notes”; this appears to be a thing of the past. I’m not sure if this is bad, or good, but my own feeling is that weaker students are less engaged without writing down key points from the lecture. I don’t want to get off target into a discussion as to whether taking notes improves learning or not—I know this is a topic that’s been debated rather frequently.

Technology has recently taken things a step farther. The lectures that I give him now are recorded automatically, synced with my slide presentation, and posted as a type of lecture-podcast online for the students enrolled in the course. Used properly, I think this is truly a wonderful tool. After all, students occasionally get sick, have personal or family issues, etc., and sometimes are forced to miss class. In addition, there are many students for whom English is a second language and the opportunity to review each lecture at their own pace is truly a phenomenal advance for them.

However, the bottom line is that I really don’t feel as though this technology is helping the majority of the students. There is this—sense of entitlement—and it seems as though students have come to expect that things automatically be made easy and simple for them. While I’m all in favor of taking advantage of technological advances to support and facilitate student learning, I see that the lack of appreciation and this—sense of entitlement—ends up leading to about one-third of the students actually not showing up for class. After all, if the entire lecture is recorded, the notes are available online, everyone can follow everything just as easily from home, isn’t it a waste of time to go to class?

While attending this class is officially a requirement, I’m not (quite) vain enough to feel that the students that I teach need to feel my presence by physically sitting in the room when I speak. They should be old enough, mature enough, and wise enough to make such choices on their own. But experience (and exam scores) show that there are a number of students who certainly aren’t disciplined enough and bright enough to be able to do this course entirely by remote control. The overall performance supports my contention that a fair number of the students are abusing these privileges awarded them, rather than taking advantage of them.

This is only one example of what I perceive to be a heightened sense of entitlement among a growing number of students from the current generation.

I know that comparisons are unfair, but when I look at my own undergraduate and graduate studies, that followed 3 tough years in the military, working 18 hour days and spending long hours studying seemed like a picnic. As long as I was dry, warm, and had access to food and drink when I was hungry, life was great. Obviously, I do not expect students to have such a world-view of their academic life.

One final illustration of this enhanced sense of entitlement: when I began to coordinate a graduate course some years ago, I found a type of loophole that bothered me. While our exams are given in such a fashion so that instructors who grade them have no idea who wrote them, students would later show up with their graded exams and appeal in person to the instructor. I found that students who made more of a fuss, complained more, cried more, or generally managed to pressure instructors and elicit sympathy, were gaining a lot of additional points compared to their silent student counterparts. I thought that this was a particularly awkward way of dealing with appeals; after all the instructor would be faced with an upset, nervous, or angry student, who would sit in the office until the instructor had read the answer again, generating a tremendous amount of direct pressure.

As a result, I soon managed to put a new policy in place whereby students would need to appeal in writing and present their examinations and written appeals to the administrative secretary, who would then send them on to the instructor. This eliminated the face-to-face pressure and kept anonymity in the system. Remarkably, the number of appeals decreased by more than 90% the first time we used this system.

One more point: in the US we use the letter grade system, with the letter “A” being the best, “B” being good, and anything below not being sufficient for graduate-level. Moreover, while these letters translate to specific percentage ranges, these percentages are never actually achieved, so the letter grades are derived from statistical formulae that are based on the normal distribution for the given exam(s).

Why am I mentioning all of this? In order to be able to relate a recent “sense of entitlement” episode that really bothered me.

I was extremely upset recently when I received an e-mail from a student who wanted to know how many points away he was from jumping to the next letter grade. His stated reason was that he wanted to know whether it was ‘worth his while to bother arguing a few points’. My answer was that if he had a valid appeal, and thought that he deserved additional points, he should go right ahead and appeal. He was upset with my answer, and wrote to me that he “doesn’t want to waste his time” unless he has a shot at increasing his letter grade.

That sense of entitlement really hammered home the issue for me. Uncharacteristically, for with students I usually display a good degree of patience, I answered: “This is not a game. Appeals are designed for students who truly believe that instructors have unfairly graded portions of the exam. If you believe this is the case, please go ahead and appeal. Otherwise, stop wasting my time.”

Do you think that was the end of the story? A few minutes later I received an angry phone call from this very student, who was upset that I had accused him of playing games. What does one make of that?

It’s clear to me that a student with such an attitude is not going to go very far in academia. But I do feel that it’s rather sad that this overwhelming sense of entitlement has managed to filter into the ranks of advanced science students. And I don’t have a solution.

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Justice and spring birds

A few short weeks ago I posted a blog entitled “I’d rather be blasting homeopathy“, and provided two letters that I had written. One was addressed to my local Nebraska congressman, and asked that he be considerate of science and the NIH budget. The second was an irate response to an unjust parking ticket that I received when attending a dance performance in downtown Omaha.

I challenged OT readers and colleagues to take my multiple choice question, and speculate which of the two letters (both, none, either) would receive a response. While I think most of my fellow scientists have been saturated with exams over the years and did not feel compelled to answer, those that did invariably predicted a response from the congressman, but not from my appeal to the parking ticket collection agency.

Well–good news and bad news. My parking appeal was accepted–albeit without an apology or personal note. But $63 is–well, $63.

On the other hand, no response from my congressman–who I understand did not vote for a more favorable NIH budget. The situation for scientists is becoming rather frightening here in the US, and perhaps we need to join up with the “Science is Vital” campaign as suggested by Stephen Curry and Jenny Rohn.

Finally, I can’t resist another nerd bird photo, and request the help of my superior qualified ornithologists with this one. Unlike the downy woodpecker I posted last month, this one is considerably larger. Although it looks like a hairy woodpecker in size, it has a full red nape (but not head), and the unmistakable “red mustache” that I thought was typical of certain flickers. Can anyone help me out? Kristi? grrlscientist? Ricardipus?

Posted in research, science, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments