This is a blog for rants. This one is a gripe against the world. Sorry for the "bummer-ness" of this one.
I googled to find the email of an old computer-chemistry buddy of mine, Fred Arnold, with hopes he'd have time to share some the warm yet frank career advice I remember from my grad school days. I was shocked to learn that he passed away at the young age of 40, due to cancer.
[Fred, in case you get internet connection wherever you are, I'll never forget your tales of hiking though stinking jungles for hours on end with over 30 lbs of antiquated photographic equipment on your back for the sole purpose of capturing a lizard on film. ... And in case you don't get internet, I'm sure you'd prefer for me to stop.]
...
Today is a day after my birthday, 3 weeks after surgery. And I learn an old work chum, only 7 years my senior, is gone. One phrase dominates my thoughts: life is short.
No wonder I cried when I was born! Sometimes the world is pretty harsh. ... Maybe it's not fair to rant about stuff that truely is beyond anyone's control--if so, this is my last post of the ilk. ... That being so, it's probably my last chance to complain about sunburn. Sunburn sucks.
...
It appears I don't have time for 1-2 hours of computer solitare every day. The world is telling me I've got to change. And it's also telling me that my education isn't as important as my judgement. Time to start seeing clearly and make the right decisions.
Showing posts with label Lance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lance. Show all posts
23 July 2008
06 July 2008
A new concept: work for profit
A common trend amongst academic scientists is "the important stuff." Said stuff is new science--new discoveries and understanding. In other words, figuring stuff out. The goal is to do that as much as possible, be it at the expense of everything else.
You know this. At least, anyone who watches movies can recognize the scientist: Bad hair. Goofy glasses. Scatterbrained during lectures. Socially inept. Wearing a lab coat out of habit... Because, after all, how could spending $20 on a haircut every month possibly help in the understanding quantum physics?
Most of us are not the stereotype, however we do tend to focus on the "important stuff." We're aware of the realities of living in society. We notice and care about looking respectable, being nice, and trying to explain things clearly. We love our families--normal stuff. From college you probably know that profs are normal people who just tend to focus on something they do well.
The reason I'm writing is to reveal an aspect of most academic scientists that people usually don't know: fallacies about money.
Although there are a plethora of reasons why people go into academic careers (egotistical: gaining respect from peers, renown ... practical: relaxed work hours, liberal atmosphere... or even altruistic: helping students) they never go into the job for the money. Mention "salary" to most professors and you'll most often hear a grumbly answer about under appreciation or work load.
From within, a career in academic science is viewed as one of sacrifice. We don't do it all for the nuggie--we do it for the important stuff. At least that's the official reason.
Candidly, we hope and pray for the best of all possible worlds: that we end up as one of the few success stories out there that can both do "important stuff" and then somehow retire rich due to some simple and profitable spin-off application of their discoveries. Forget 401k--scientists hope for a multi-million startup with their names on it.
... But isn't that whack?
I mean, if you believe in logic and cause and effect, and you live your life hoping that your dedication important stuff will be recognized for it's importance, correctness, and worth, and that a big fat financial retirement plops in your lap one day, aren't you setting yourself up for a fall? Isn't the most statistically favored outcome to just end up bitter?
... Alternatives? One is to convince yourself that even unappreciated work makes a difference. Another is to give yourself credit for at least trying. But yet another--which is looking increasingly honest and worthwhile to me--is dropping the act and going straight for money from the beginning.
Of course, the trouble with science for profit is that it's restrictive. Ideas have to be useful. Competition isn't just for street cred any more. And suddenly lawyers and accountants are equally as important as you. But doesn't it make sense to follow your honest dream?
I'm not turning my back to academia. Rather, I view it as something to do after having retirement worked out. I guess I've realized that while I can do science at some level, it's not the impressive kind that changes the world quickly. If I do stumble onto something big, I hope to have both eyes on idealistic goals--not one looking for a nest egg.
So that's the theory. Time to do the experiment.
You know this. At least, anyone who watches movies can recognize the scientist: Bad hair. Goofy glasses. Scatterbrained during lectures. Socially inept. Wearing a lab coat out of habit... Because, after all, how could spending $20 on a haircut every month possibly help in the understanding quantum physics?
Most of us are not the stereotype, however we do tend to focus on the "important stuff." We're aware of the realities of living in society. We notice and care about looking respectable, being nice, and trying to explain things clearly. We love our families--normal stuff. From college you probably know that profs are normal people who just tend to focus on something they do well.
The reason I'm writing is to reveal an aspect of most academic scientists that people usually don't know: fallacies about money.
Although there are a plethora of reasons why people go into academic careers (egotistical: gaining respect from peers, renown ... practical: relaxed work hours, liberal atmosphere... or even altruistic: helping students) they never go into the job for the money. Mention "salary" to most professors and you'll most often hear a grumbly answer about under appreciation or work load.
From within, a career in academic science is viewed as one of sacrifice. We don't do it all for the nuggie--we do it for the important stuff. At least that's the official reason.
Candidly, we hope and pray for the best of all possible worlds: that we end up as one of the few success stories out there that can both do "important stuff" and then somehow retire rich due to some simple and profitable spin-off application of their discoveries. Forget 401k--scientists hope for a multi-million startup with their names on it.
... But isn't that whack?
I mean, if you believe in logic and cause and effect, and you live your life hoping that your dedication important stuff will be recognized for it's importance, correctness, and worth, and that a big fat financial retirement plops in your lap one day, aren't you setting yourself up for a fall? Isn't the most statistically favored outcome to just end up bitter?
... Alternatives? One is to convince yourself that even unappreciated work makes a difference. Another is to give yourself credit for at least trying. But yet another--which is looking increasingly honest and worthwhile to me--is dropping the act and going straight for money from the beginning.
Of course, the trouble with science for profit is that it's restrictive. Ideas have to be useful. Competition isn't just for street cred any more. And suddenly lawyers and accountants are equally as important as you. But doesn't it make sense to follow your honest dream?
I'm not turning my back to academia. Rather, I view it as something to do after having retirement worked out. I guess I've realized that while I can do science at some level, it's not the impressive kind that changes the world quickly. If I do stumble onto something big, I hope to have both eyes on idealistic goals--not one looking for a nest egg.
So that's the theory. Time to do the experiment.
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