{"id":3089,"date":"2019-03-08T17:08:11","date_gmt":"2019-03-08T23:08:11","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/stevecaplan\/?p=3089"},"modified":"2019-03-10T18:35:40","modified_gmt":"2019-03-10T23:35:40","slug":"how-not-to-deliver-a-seminar","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/stevecaplan\/2019\/03\/08\/how-not-to-deliver-a-seminar\/","title":{"rendered":"How *NOT* to deliver a seminar"},"content":{"rendered":"

It seems that people are apt to try and recreate or relive their greatest successes, and it turns out that I am not immune to this behavior. Some years ago, a combination of exasperation and disbelief coupled with an attempt to educate others led me to publish a satirical piece called \u201cHow NOT to get a lab job.\u201d\u00a0<\/a><\/p>\n

In those years I was besieged with a multitude of poorly conceived and written emails from scientists wishing to join my lab as a postdoctoral fellow. I had emails addressed to \u201cDear Madam\/Sir,\u201d as though the writer had never bothered to assess with whom he\/she would like to work. Other requests were sent to my email, but addressed to other scientists. Others still urged me to hire their spouse, or told me they like my project on \u2013and here they cut and pasted the entire synopsis of my work from my website, different color font and different style\/size text and all! In my analysis of these emails, I tried to illustrate to the reader how such emails were perceived from the standpoint of the employer\u2014the person running the lab.<\/p>\n

Remarkably, the satirical piece that I published on Lablit.com received a lot of attention, and I was swamped with comments from many scientists who appreciated my attempt at humor\u2014and from several who did not. And now, years later, I still struggle at trying to surpass this achievement. And finally, I had an idea…<\/p>\n

Every scientist spends countless hours listening to seminars\u2014but not all seminars are created equal. There are good talks, and there are talks that need significant improvement. And while I try to remain positive and polite with my critiques, it seems that I open my mouth more than most\u2014and thus, a colleague asked me: \u201cYou seem to have a pretty good idea about how seminars should be delivered\u2014how about putting your money where your mouth is and giving a lecture to our trainees on the art of delivering a seminar?\u201d<\/p>\n

I had now effectively painted myself into a corner, and it was time to \u201cput up or shut up.\u201d And I guess that I just don\u2019t have it in my DNA to shut up. And thus, my little seminar, \u201cHow *NOT<\/strong>* to Deliver a Seminar<\/em>,\u201d was born…<\/p>\n

Lesson #1<\/span>:<\/p>\n

The key, I surmised, was to lead by example. So, after being introduced, I stood up, walked over to the front of the lecture hall, buried myself behind the podium so I was virtually invisible and unable to make eye contact with a single person in the audience, and began to mumble quietly so that anyone farther away than my belly-button would not comprehend a word. I then flashed on my \u201ctitle slide.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"Slide01\"<\/a><\/p>\n

There is nothing like yellow-on-white background so as to be poorly visible to the audience\u2014and when there are spelling mistakes, inconsistent spacing between words, and no affiliation listed for the seminar speaker (and so on)\u2014well, perhaps it is better if it is not easily visible to the audience….<\/p>\n

Lesson #2:<\/p>\n

Connecting with an audience is very important, as is delivering good content that is well organized. But that is not enough. So I moved to my second slide.<\/p>\n

\"Slide02\"<\/a><\/p>\n

As it turns out, a great way to lose an audience is to pack a slide full of words\/sentences\/paragraphs, with no respite for the weary. Drone on and on. The typical scientist in the audience will likely not even get to the third written line before abandoning hope of reading whatever is written, and start to tune out.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Lesson #3:<\/p>\n

The Model. Every scientist appreciates a \u201cmodel\u201d\u2014a simplified explanation of the best-guess for how something actually works. Models can be expanded upon, modified, altered, or even switched around completely, depending upon new incoming data that supports, negates, or allows modification of the model.<\/p>\n

\"Slide03\"<\/a><\/p>\n

But when the model looks more like circuitry for the wiring of a hard drive or nuclear transformer, and the lecturer does not focus in on a more select arm of such a tangled and complex pathway, this is another great opportunity to elicit snores and provoke latent narcoleptics into acute ones.<\/p>\n

Lesson #4<\/p>\n

Scientific terminology is cumbersome. Perhaps because scientists want to show off their ability to rattle off big names, or perhaps because the big names help formulate the accurate descriptions that scientists desire.<\/p>\n

\"Slide04\"<\/a><\/p>\n

In any case, lecturers often use a variety of acronyms to make their talks easier\u2014easier for the lecturer and harder for the audience! When introduced once and usually rapidly, a typical person in the audience will have a difficult time remembering that dSTORM stands for direct Optical Stochastic Optical Reconstruction Microscopy, or that BBSome is derived from Bardet-Biedl Syndrome.<\/p>\n

So to help put things in perspective, and not only show what NOT to do, I formulated an abbreviated series of recommendations for the presentation of a seminar–in other words, WHAT TO DO:<\/p>\n

Why bother? Is it worth my time?<\/u><\/p>\n