Reflections on academic plagiarism

I’m not stepping into the politically-charged fracas surrounding the resignation of the president of Harvard University--Claudine Gay. I understand that politics will inevitably rear its ugly head in the USA nowadays no matter what the situation. I’m only interested in one aspect of the case--the alleged plagiarism charges against her. If it’s true that she plagiarized some parts of her doctoral thesis already way back in 1997, then that’s the only thing that interests me. That’s because I spent over forty years in an academic research career and wrote nearly one hundred scientific articles, all of which were peer-reviewed and checked by specific software for plagiarism from around 2005 or so. This type of software appeared around the year 2000 and most scientific journals had incorporated it into use by 2005. If you were intentionally unethical and extensively plagiarized others’ articles, you would eventually get caught and your article would be refused. The ‘punishment’ was not more severe than that, except that ultimately, if you don’t publish in academia, you perish, hence the old adage—‘publish or perish’. The punishment of no published articles leads to no funding, because scientists will not get funding for their research if they haven’t published. Essentially it’s tantamount to shooting yourself in the foot. But in my long experience, most of the scientists I ran across or collaborated with were decent and ethical people. I include myself in that group. I can’t tell you how many times I lay awake during the night, wondering about the phrasing of this or that sentence or paragraph, wanting to get it just right, and hoping that I had without parroting others’ ideas. The problem of course is that each published article builds on the work that came before; in other words, there are very few novel ideas. The novel ideas belong to the few visionaries who move science along in a way that the rest of us do not.

If you have to write about the ideas and findings of others, as we had to do as scientists, then you must reference their previously-published articles. You cannot knowingly take credit for ideas and findings that rightfully belong to others. Most scientists are ethical and follow this unwritten rule; no one would like to end up being labeled a plagiarist. Of course mistakes are made and usually those cases are sorted out by the author and the journal, or by the author and his or her co-authors. But if you knowingly plagiarize and are caught doing so, the consequences can be unpleasant for your career.

I was an anonymous article reviewer for a number of journals for well over twenty years. Article reviewing is voluntary; we scientists do not get paid for helping the journals in this way. I have come across blatant plagiarism (of words or ideas) only several times in that period of time. In one case, the authors copied and pasted whole abstracts and paragraphs in the Introduction from one of their previously-published articles to a manuscript they were writing and wished to submit for review. They did this in order to pass off their new article as original. We’re talking about the exact same abstract and introductory paragraph(s) showing up in two different papers, with only a drug concentration or amount changed to indicate that the new article was different from the previous one. They did not bother to cite their previous article (had they done so, it would have been less problematic). In other words, the authors plagiarized themselves (self-plagiarism), which you might think is not plagiarism, except that it is. This type of behavior has positive consequences for the authors if their behavior is not discovered. We academics know why this is done—to increase the number of publications on one’s publication list. In this case, the authors had tested the effects of five different chemicals on cancer cells, and published the effects of each one individually (five separate papers instead of one paper detailing the effects of all five chemicals). Since the methodology involved in each paper was the same, as were the aims of the studies, the authors were too lazy to write new abstracts and introductions for each article. It happens more often than you might think and is not discovered so often, mostly because many reviewers won’t google previous publications by the authors in question due to lack of time or interest (another kind of laziness). How did I find out that the authors had done this? Interested as I was in the subject matter, I googled some of their previous articles. After I saw what the authors had done, I recommended to the editor that the manuscript be refused and the authors chastised for this practice. What I know for sure is that the article was published as it was (without any changes) in another journal (low impact-factor), because those journals are desperate for articles to publish. They need them for their existence.

Another case involved a high-profile group who published a rather banal article in the late 1990s in one of the best journals in the science field. Their article documented the use of a technology that could be used to assess DNA content in cancer cells. It was presented as though this was a novel finding, which it most certainly was not. I happen to personally know the researchers who invented this technique and published many articles about it twenty years before the publication in the elite journal; nowhere in that article were the original researchers referenced. I and many others wrote letters to the editor pointing this out, expecting the journal to retract the article or at least write a short commentary about the situation. Nothing happened. The journal did not want to upset the research group involved, so nothing happened. No consequences. When you’re the elite, when you sit at the top, you can get away with a lot. I learned that already in my late thirties/early forties, with nearly thirty years to go in the academic research arena.

So back to Claudine Gay, who as president of Harvard was making close to a million dollars a year. I’ve read some of the articles about what she did; the most descriptive one so far (in terms of comparisons of Gay’s writing versus the original articles she is accused of plagiarizing) was written by Sophia Nguyen and published in The Washington Post: Timeline: Plagiarism allegations against Claudine Gay - The Washington Post . It is possible to read the article for free if you register your email address with them. After reading the article, I say, Gay should have known better. Harvard University should have known better and reacted differently and much earlier. But many elite universities would probably have done the same--swept the affair under the rug as a tempest in a teapot. But they’re wrong, it is an important matter, because the entire affair allows for a way of thinking that is already prevalent in our society. That laziness is ok, mediocrity is good enough, taking credit for others’ work is ok as long as you don’t get caught, but if you get caught, talk your way out of it. One must strive for ethical behavior at all levels of academia. It’s hard work (the antithesis of laziness) and sometimes you’re fighting against the crowd, but in the end, you have to live with yourself and answer to yourself.

The phoenix rises from the ashes

Two months of freedom. It's been nearly two months since I retired. I don't miss the daily grind and I don't miss my former workplace. I miss some of the people I worked with, but that's about it. 

I was out with three former colleagues and friends last night to celebrate my retirement. We ended up at a very nice Italian restaurant called Olivia--very good food and a very pleasant atmosphere. We talked for almost three hours straight, mostly about my former workplace, since they've all worked there over the years. None of them miss it. Strange how that is. We all have different reasons for not missing it, but most of them come down to the arrogance of some of the male leaders (and one female leader) in our department, many of whom thought they were far brighter than they are, as well as the built-in egoism and arrogance of academia. The problem is that you are never good enough except when you drag in a lot of research funding. Then you are worth something. Money talks. It always has and always will. And who you know trumps what you know, every time. George Orwell's quote always comes to mind when I think about some of these 'great' research leaders "All pigs are equal, but some pigs are more equal than others". That about sums up the research experience in my former department. The bullshit that we got fed constantly was that if we wrote good grants and competed with these 'great' scientists, that we too would have a chance to get funding. The reality was that the same (large) research groups and the same researchers got funding every year, and every year one or two more 'small' scientists were squeezed out and deemed unproductive and lazy because they weren't getting funding. The lie we were asked to believe was that there was the real possibility of fair competition based on good ideas and expertise. The reality as I and many others see it was that much of the actual granting of funds was decided beforehand, based on who these researchers knew. As in, calls were made to the relevant political networks and contacts, who always take care of their own. Academia is often defined by cronyism--the appointment of friends and associates to positions of authority, without proper regard to their qualifications (from the online dictionary). A very disagreeable business at times, with the emphasis on business, because in the end, it always comes down to money. Who would miss this crap or the continual scorn heaped upon those scientists who didn't want to (or couldn't) do science the way the big guys did it? Scorn is something many of them are very good at publicly dishing out, so that everyone in their vicinity knows that they're the important guys and the rest are just the stupid underdogs who should serve them. I understand that scientists need to bring in funds to do their research, but there should still be room for small scientists who never wanted to be leaders of huge research centers, who were content with a small research group and with just enough funding to get by each year. What was wrong with that way of doing science? Not everyone has sky-high ambitions; some simply want to do good research the way it was done in the 1990s and early 2000s, before politicians got involved and started demanding results for the money that was appropriated. Politics and science are not a good mix. And lest anyone think that more money equals better science, that is not necessarily true. There is a lot of good science that has resulted from limited funding. Politicians should remember that.  

My self-confidence is slowly returning. The past ten years in academia have been akin to being in a bad marriage where one gets harassed for the least little thing, where there is no kindness, no empathy, no understanding, just unreasonable demands, abuse, distress and unhappiness. My friend's father used to say 'don't let the turkeys get you down'. I tried not to let them get me down every day for the past ten years. I spent much of my time trying to build up the self-confidence of students who were treated rudely by their arrogant mentors in those 'great' research groups; I consoled tearful PhD students and postdocs who were members of those research groups. That took the focus off myself, so that I had little time to deal with my own problems. But my own self-confidence suffered, no doubt about that. I remember wanting to shift jobs back in 2010 and struggling to find something cohesive and positive to say about myself and my expertise. But I am proud of the fact that I never let myself be defeated by those leaders for whom I had NO respect. That has never happened in the past and will never happen as long as I remember to put my soul first. The health of my soul trumps any attempt to destroy my self confidence, my faith, my positivity, my kindness, my empathy. The health of my soul is all that matters. The rest of it--the bullshit--can just fall away. I don't view retirement as an end to anything other than an end to ten years of bullshit. That bullshit has been placed on a huge bonfire and has been reduced to nothing but ashes. The purveyors of the bullshit are another story; I'm guessing that karma will take care of them. One can only hope. And one can hope for a return to a time when what you knew trumped who you know. But I doubt that will happen in my lifetime. 

The phoenix rises from the ashes of the past. We rise from the ashes of our past selves. We are renewed. We are new people. We emerge from the shadows, we are no longer held under the thumbs of those who do not wish us well. We are free, free to fly. That is a good feeling. No amount of money can trump freedom--the freedom to decide for ourselves how we want to live the rest of our lives. 

Publish or languish

"Hanging on in quiet desperation", to paraphrase Pink Floyd. That about sums up remaining in academia as an older scientist (over sixty) in some workplaces and universities. At my former workplace, there were many older scientists who were deemed unproductive by research leadership. That may have been true for one or two older scientists, but by and large the majority of older scientists were just as productive and had just as much motivation to do research, publish, and mentor PhD and Masters students as scientists half their age. But they seldom got the chance because research funding dried up and no matter how relevant they tried to make their grant applications, they were rejected. It often started when they were in their mid- to late-fifties and just continued. My question is why any older scientist in his or her right mind would want to hang around languishing in a workplace that no longer wants them or considers them productive? To languish is to be 'forced to remain in an unpleasant place or situation'. That describes the daily life of many older scientists. Of course I understand that not all cannot retire in their fifties (although I know teachers and civil servants who did just that, with good pensions to support them). 

So what's an older scientist to do in an academic workplace that no longer values him or her? He or she can hang on in quiet desperation and 'hope' for more grant funding after having written grant application after grant application ad nauseam. Good luck with that. 'Hope springs eternal', as Alexander Pope said. Or the older scientist can hope for some good will from research leadership, but I would say don't hold your breath. From what I've seen and heard during the past decade, some of the research leaders did nothing but badmouth the older scientists they deemed unproductive. They disparaged them or poked fun at them; I know because I sat in on some of the leader meetings and was witness to their behavior. Of course not all research leaders were like this. But as karma would have it, one of those types of leaders in my former workplace is now having problems getting funding for his research; he's reached that crucial age when it all changes. And so it goes. Since he was one of those leaders who actively disparaged his peers, I am very glad to hear that he is now having problems of his own. It couldn't happen to a nicer guy as we say in America.

Publish or languish. That is the choice for many older tenured scientists. It becomes a catch-22 situation after a while. If you no longer obtain funding for your research, you cannot attract students nor will you be able to get technical help. You will end up working alone in the lab, and it goes without saying that your research production will slow down, you will publish much less, and that will go a long way toward ensuring that you do not remain in the running for grant funding. And so it goes. No grant funding, no students and no help, thus no publications and no grant funding. 

Do I have ready answers to this problem? I do not. I merely present it. It used to be publish or perish, but nowadays it's publish or languish because so many older scientists hang onto their tenured positions with every ounce of strength they've got. Some who should have more self-insight refuse to acknowledge that their time in the sun is over. For some it's an identity problem; they simply cannot see themselves doing anything else other than research. They've lived and breathed research their entire lives. My advice to academic scientists who are approaching that crucial age when it all changes, is to take a good long hard look around them, around their workplace. See if older scientists are valued or if they are just pushed to the side and ignored. See if there is subtle pressure on them to retire early. Just see how they're treated, because guaranteed, once you reach their age, that is how you yourself will be treated. 

 

What I will miss about working as an academic research scientist

This past Monday was my last day as a full-time employee at my university hospital. I can now call myself 'retired'. Not out to pasture 😀, just retired from the job I've been doing for the past thirty years. My department hosted a small and very nice retirement party for me on Monday afternoon; most of the attendees were current and former research group members, department leaders, research technicians, and collaborators. The reactions from co-workers and colleagues to the news of my retirement have been mixed; all of them wish me well, some understand why I'm leaving now, some wonder if I'm retiring too soon and if I will be bored, one woman said right out loud how lucky I was to be retiring. I am glad I decided to retire now. I look forward to a new chapter in my life and to the freedom to put some of my ideas into action. 

There were several talks given about me and my contributions to the department over the years. Those who held the talks were those who have known me the longest. They know what I have accomplished as an academic research scientist. They also know how much help and support I've given others. I was described as having integrity and as someone who believes in fairness/fair play. Those are very true statements; I abhor nepotism, borderline corruption, rewards given to those who do not deserve them. The list is long. I was also described as a driving force by my former boss, who talked about how I brought new techniques into the lab and performed some work (published in 2007) that virtually no one else in the world had done before. Those were nice words to hear. He also described me as someone who can say no, and that is also true; I am not just a yes-person. I have my own opinions and thoughts; I respect what others have to say but if I firmly believe in what I want or in what I think is best for a project or a group, I am hard to dissuade. 

But it is the people I have worked with over the years that I will miss the most. Projects come and go, grant funding came and went, prestige disappears, but what matters the most is how you have treated those who worked for you and with you. It always surprises me how so few people really understand that. People remember how they were treated; I will always remember how well I was treated by the three men (the triumvirate--Frank, Zbigniew and Myron) I worked for at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center. My co-workers here in Oslo described me as 'raus'. In English it means 'willing to share and to give a lot, to give without the expectation of anything in return, not miserly'. That was also good to hear, because it's true. I know some leaders who are miserly; by hanging onto their knowledge they hang onto the control they have over others, because it is mostly control and power that they want. God forbid someone under them should 'challenge' their knowledge. But being a miser costs, because misers are not good leaders, and those who work for misers remember their utter selfishness and egoism. I learned 'raushet' from working for others who were 'rause', the men I worked for at Memorial. They gave of their expertise, patience, and knowledge, willingly. They wanted us to succeed. They wanted us to shine. They wanted us to 'outgrow' them. Those are good leaders, and those are the leaders I remember, not the miserly ones, not the rude ones, not the ones who never give of their time willingly. I've met far too many of the latter. 

We scientists would have published very little of our work without the competence and expertise of the research technicians who have worked in our groups over the years. So they are the people I will miss the most. It was a pleasure and a privilege to work with them and to publish articles together. I will miss doing research--the intellectual freedom to pursue an idea and to see where it leads. There is almost nothing that comes close to that feeling of freedom when it all works out. But science the way I enjoyed doing it has changed. I commented on that change in my speech at the end of the party; science is big business now--big money and big research groups. It wasn't always that way, and I prefer the days when research groups were small and money didn't rule. I said that to my audience. Because that is true too. Small is nice. Small allows you to care about the projects and the people involved. I'm grateful for a career that allowed me to do that. 

Reflections on retirement and the pandemic

Now that I've made the decision to retire, I've begun to reflect about different things, among them, how the pandemic affected my decision to retire this year. In mid-March of 2020, we were essentially told to work from home full-time if we had that possibility, and since most of my work is administrative, I was able to do that. I went from working from home one day a week as I had done for about fifteen years, to doing so five days a week. The first few months of full-time home office were fine; I had plenty to do and the days flew by. I didn't think much about whether I missed the actual office or not, because I didn't have the time to do so. Zoom meetings were new experiences, and people were not weary of them as they are now, over a year later. During the summertime, Norway 'opened up' for a few months, and it felt as though life was beginning to return to normal. In September 2020 I began to go into the office a couple of days a week to update server files and to meet with specific colleagues; we kept our distance and wore masks as required. We were allowed to have small physical meetings (five to ten people) as long as everyone kept the appropriate distance from each other. I held a lecture about my research project in September, and that went well. I began to think about writing the eventual article based on data from that project (that will be published next month), and I started writing it in the autumn of 2020. That kept me busy as well in addition to my biobanking administrative work. 

And then the winter months hit, as did a new lockdown right after Christmas. It was as though the reigning powers that be said--it's ok to shop and celebrate Christmas, but the punishment for doing that is a new lockdown right afterward. As of January 2021, normal life ceased and we were suddenly thrown back to March 2020. Working from home full-time began to feel like a chore. It wasn't a positive experience anymore. Zoom meetings were a bore, even though they were necessary. The only ones I got anything out of were the meetings with our research technician about her work on my research project. They were interactive and productive meetings. The amount of biobanking administrative work fell off dramatically from what I was used to in 2020, probably partially due to that our department leader (who prioritized biobanking) moved on to another job and priorities shifted as they often do under a new department leader. Biobanking work seems to have been deprioritized; I could be wrong. But the amount of biobanking administrative work has continued to decline, and no one seems to have an explanation for why that is the case. My research article is now written and will be published soon, research funding has run out, there is very little biobanking work, and my PhD student successfully defended her thesis in April. I'm essentially finished with all of the projects and work that I've been responsible for during the past five years or so. It began to feel like a good time to retire. It's not as though I didn't plan for it, I did. I planned quite well. I knew I wanted to retire in 2021, I just wasn't sure when. As it turns out, retiring at the end of August seemed to be the best decision. 

I didn't expect the pandemic to factor into the decision, but it did. The pandemic exacerbated the loneliness of academic life. When I am physically at work, I share an office with a pathologist who has a lot of diagnostic work to do. Sometimes we chat, and that is always pleasant. She is really the only person I truly interact with in the space of a day. But still, it is a lonely life. And working from home full-time began to seem quite lonely too. I don't mind being alone at all. But in the context of a work situation, I discovered I am one of those people who enjoy the professional and social interactions at work, however few they are. Being at home all day began to wear on me. Additionally, I realized that most of my colleagues are former colleagues; they are already retired. There aren't a lot of new contacts waiting in the wings. Those days of establishing collaborations with other scientists are over. 

So in the end, I feel lonely at the office and lonely at home--in a work context. When I am not working and am at home full-time, I'm fine. I have lots of other non-science-related projects to focus on--writing and gardening being two of them. I feel lonelier at work (whether at the office or at home) then I do when not working. That is as good a reason as any to retire now. I thank the pandemic for helping me to figure that out. 

A leap into the unknown

And so I've taken the next step and a leap into the unknown--in September I will join the ranks of those who have retired early. I've thought long and hard about this decision and have planned well for it, as one of my leaders commented. I have. My responsibilities for research projects and PhD/Masters students are fulfilled; my last PhD student defended her thesis in April. I could go in another direction now and start to study another type of cancer (my focus has been colorectal cancer for my entire academic career), but I don't want to switch fields and there is no more funding to be obtained for my particular research area. I'm proud of the work I've done. I've published nearly one hundred research articles as a main author/co-author and have been a mentor/co-mentor for three Masters students and six PhD students, all of whom successfully finished their degrees. What I've learned after many years in academia is that an academic career is demanding; one must be good at grant-writing, article-writing, mentorship, project planning and execution, networking, academic politics, communication, and diplomacy. I was good at most of it, but not at academic politics and as it evolved, grant-writing. But to be fair, the world of research science changed dramatically compared to when I started out in the mid-1990s. It was easier to write grants and get them funded then. I prefer the way research was done then--in smaller research groups without an emphasis on centers of excellence and platform-based research. I am old-school and do not apologize for it. I do not fit together with big research groups and large research centers, nor am I interested in having to follow a center leader's plan for what type of research project I should focus on. As a senior scientist, I feel that this decision should be left up to me, but often it's not. I've written about all of this before, about how postdocs are used as technicians in large research groups, going from one postdoc position to another and using valuable time trying to please group leaders instead of the group leaders encouraging them to become independent scientists. I would go so far as to say that many group leaders use postdocs as slaves; they know they will get a lot of work out of them, but they don't have to worry about rewarding them in any way. It's unfair, and that's just the way it is. There are scientist associations (unions) working on the problem, but so far it remains that--a problem. 

I won't miss the work world. Either it moved away from me, or I grew beyond it. I grew to want more than it could give me. I used to get really jazzed at the idea of scientific meetings and conferences; I no longer do. It's more a 'been there done that' type of feeling. And I could write a long post about academic politics--how bored I am with them; the truth is that you are either on the current ruling team or you're not. If you're not, you're not important, and that means that your expertise is mostly ignored in favor of someone else who just happens to be on the right political side. And so it goes. Life is not fair, and academic life is definitely not fair. It's who you know, not what you know. I think it's always been that way, and that it will continue to be that way. I also won't miss the feeling of constantly having to do homework--read articles, stay updated, read more articles, plan more research. It's tiring. 

Now that I've informed my leaders, I feel free. I've been walking around for the past year with this decision on my shoulders, so to speak. Should I or shouldn't I? As it turned out, there are personal reasons for why I made the decision now. I won't detail them here, but it has to do with that life is short and that friendships mean more than work. So in a sense, the decision was easy to make. I want to spend more time with friends, not more time at the office. 

Leaving the work world is a leap into the unknown. I look forward to finding out what the next life chapter holds. I don't need to know everything that's going to happen, nor do I want any major plans or responsibilities hanging over me. I want at least one year without any plans or responsibilities. After that, we'll see. One thing is for sure; I will be able to focus on my writing a lot more. It will be nice to have the time to do that, when I want to do it. And if you want to find me most days during spring, summer, and fall, you'll find me in my garden. 

Women and self-confidence

I could have entitled this post 'Women and self-confidence in academia'. But I reconsidered because many of my reflections can be generalized to other professions. It's just that academia is what I know. I've worked as a full-fledged scientist in academia for twenty-two years, and before that, spent six years working on my doctorate. I've worked in a mostly man-dominated profession--cancer research--even though during the last fifteen years or so women have made many inroads into this field. When I did my doctoral work during the 1990s, most mentors were men, and the one woman in my department who headed her own research group was unqualified for the position, in my opinion. Time proved me right. 

I've had the privilege of mentoring/co-mentoring seven younger women and three younger men who have been interested in doing doctoral or Masters degree work. I've taken my mentoring responsibilities seriously, as I've done with most of my career responsibilities. All of the younger people I've mentored have finished their degrees successfully. Not one of them quit, although there were three women who wanted to quit at times (when life was made unbearable for them by other mentors). After many years in this business, I've realized that there are clear differences between women and men in terms of the self-confidence they bring to the table. Two of the men I've co-mentored took PhD degrees in record time; they were finished with their lab work within three years and defended their work not long after. Their self-confidence levels were high throughout; neither of them had any misgivings about their capabilities or expertise, and neither of them suffered from that nagging feeling that they were not good enough. They knew they were, and they acted accordingly. They didn't have to learn to take center stage; they were comfortable being the centers of attention when all eyes were on them. They adapted quickly, finished quickly, and moved into the private sector once they finished their doctoral work. The PhD degree was the key to their future career success in private industry; they understood that, and also made it clear to those around them that they were not interested in academic careers. These are my observations about them, after having had a number of conversations with them. We had a good rapport for the most part; the guidance they needed from me was more collaborative. They were driven and self-motivated, and if they suffered from any negative or anxious feelings, they hid them well. They also received a large amount of positive feedback and praise from their male co-mentor, who was a bit more sparse in dealing the same out to the women for whom he's been a co-mentor. 

All of the women I've mentored/co-mentored had completely different experiences. They did not adapt to their chosen paths quickly. They took their time, felt their way forward, sometimes stumbling in the dark. They were not afraid to say that they were anxious about not measuring up, and in three cases, the treatment they received at the hands of the other co-mentor was often crippling to their self-confidence. When I have reflected upon this, I conclude that male mentors are more supportive of the men they mentor than they are of the women they mentor. I don't know why, but I wonder if it has to do with the level of comfort and camaraderie they feel with other men. I have had many discussions with this particular male mentor about his behavior; I've had to tell him not to be rude, disparaging, arrogant, and dismissive. He's been all those things, mostly to women. Perhaps he is an isolated case as a mentor. I don't know. He's had a lot of power and been given a lot of leeway. In short, he's been allowed to behave pretty much as he's wanted to all these years. He might not have behaved this way with the men he mentored because he knew they'd fight back. I don't know that either. The women have not fought back. Part of my mentoring them was to teach them to fight back--that they don't need to take all of the crap dished out to them (just because they are women). They are allowed to fight back; I've said that, and I've supported them when they did.  

I've been available to my students, male and female. The men needed me less; the women needed me more. Almost thirty years after I started my own doctoral work, I see that times haven't changed all that much. I had no one to talk to when times got tough (my husband was some help, but he wasn't my main mentor), so I promised myself that when it was my turn to be a mentor, I would be there for my students. And I've lived up to that promise. My mentor was a man, by turns rude and supportive, if that is possible. He didn't push me around because he knew I'd fight him back, even though it took me some years to learn how to do that. He did respect my intelligence, albeit grudgingly at times. But as I've told the women I've mentored, I never had a problem with self-confidence when it came to my work. I knew I was good, good enough to be a scientist and good enough to be a project group leader. I know my limitations and my strengths. I've been told that I was good but not good enough by one of my research leaders (a man), and I ignored him and continued to do what I do best. I've gotten all my students through their degree work; he has not. He has harassed many of the post-docs he's hired and they left his lab demotivated and discouraged about their place in science. I know this because they (women and men alike) have come into my office to share their stories with me over the years. He made mincemeat of whatever self-confidence they had at the time they were in his lab. Why? Who knows. I could write a long treatise on him, but he's not worth the effort. One thing is clear to me; the harassment of women doesn't end when they finish their doctoral work. Once a woman becomes a worthy competitor to a man, that's when the harassment intensifies. Academia is a hotbed of competition, bad behavior, arrogance, and harassment. Sometimes it amazes me that any good work actually gets done amidst the political crap that goes on. I wonder too how some people live with themselves.  

Being a mentor involves so many things, but mostly it boils down to coaching and motivation, in addition to understanding the work involved. You cannot be a good mentor unless you understand the projects, the science, the lab work, and the ins and outs of academia. I am a cheerleader of sorts, praising students for a job well-done, listening to them when times are tough and providing encouragement to continue working when everything seems dark and unforgiving. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Keep placing one foot in front of the other and you'll get there. The only way out is through. Don't give up. This too shall pass. Sometimes just saying those words is enough for some students. Knowing that they've been listened to, that someone cares about them and their projects and goals, is the motivation they need to continue. If I've played such a role in their lives, I've done a good job, and I'm happy. And it makes me happy to see them succeed. 

 

Summing up and getting ready to move on

This article resonated with me: Why Are Men Still Explaining Things to Women?   https://tinyurl.com/yxnvabr2

This has been my experience in academia for so many years, I can't count them. How many times my expertise has been ignored by men who need to explain to me how it really works. How many times I've laughed it off, retorted with a sardonic comment, or simply stood there and accepted the idiocy of it all. Mostly the latter. How many times have I done that? How many times have I kept my mouth shut, when I should have opened it and said 'please please please please please stop talking' (like the woman in Hemingway's story). I should have said that so many times, instead of stewing about the injustice and idiocy of it all. What I have done is discussed it with other women, ad nauseam. Today in fact was another such conversation with a woman twenty years younger than me, who has been raised to be respectful and to defer to her elders. In academia, that means to older white men. She has been rudely treated by her doctoral mentor, and he continues to behave that way toward her, even when she has called him on it in a respectful way. I have also called him on it several times. He simply doesn't and won't listen. So many of his type of men are rude, crude, arrogant and conceited. They truly think they know it all. And really, how could we expect them to think any other way when very few people (men or women) have ever challenged them on anything? These men don't know what it is like to be corrected for anything they do, and they don't like it when someone tries. I tried when I was younger, but ended up being labeled as difficult. I was told to smile more. I was told that they knew best. The problem was that they didn't. Sometimes they knew best. Statistics would back that up. No one knows best all of the time. Sometimes they knew best, sometimes they didn't. I have watched men open their mouths and stick their foot in them so many times, I've lost count. They rarely apologized for their arrogant or boorish behavior. Rarely apologized for shouting people down, talking over them, interrupting them, finishing their sentences, destroying their thought processes--in other words, rarely apologized for their bad behavior. In nearly all the cases I've seen in academia, the people they did this to were women--PhD students and post-docs. You take a lot of crap in academia, and you might think you'd be prepared for some of it based on how the world is and has been toward women over the years. But you're not prepared to be told that you're essentially ignorant when you know the opposite is true. You're not prepared to be told to keep your mouth shut as has happened to me several times in the past couple of years when I tried to correct someone's rude and humiliating behavior toward women who were simply trying to be professional about finishing their doctoral work. This particular man was irritated because his student wanted to 'discuss' some ideas with him; he thought she should just accept his ideas as the correct ones. These men are pathetic. They are threatened by women, and for the life of me, I can't figure out why, because these men sit in the positions of power and prestige, not the women they treat like crap. I think what sets them off is the knowledge that some women (like me and the doctoral student) cannot and will not be broken by these men. That was tried on me to no avail when I was younger. My will and my soul would simply not be broken. What is the meaning in that? The meaning in it is that God has a purpose for those lives. God did not want me to be broken. So if I ended up where I am supposed to be, then my life has had meaning. I have stood up for what I thought was fair and just and right. I have dared to correct men, to contradict them, to state my own opinions, to believe in my own ideas. I am proud of myself, proud that I believed in my own ideas and the ideas of other women. My most cited article, and the one that I am most proud of, was one that was rudely ridiculed by a male reviewer. Rather than being crushed by the review, I became livid. I wrote to the editor of the journal to which I had submitted my article, to criticize him for allowing such a review to reach an author. It caused all sorts of repercussions, for which I am glad to this day. I doubt that the editor had ever received a letter like the one he received from me. I still have the letter I wrote and the response I received from that editor. I should have framed both. But it was a glaring indication that I was the author of research work that had threatened the reviewer, one of the reigning gurus in the field, and that was over twenty years ago. Another example of the same was when I thought I was having an interesting conversation at a conference dinner with a well-known Norwegian professor about a particular signaling pathway and the expertise my research group had with how to detect proteins on that pathway. I don't remember if I offered advice or help with some of the detection methods, but my God, how insulted he became. How dare I assume that he needed help. He regaled the entire dinner table with how rude Americans were and how rudely they had treated his sister when she had been studying in the USA. The saving grace of that experience was the Norwegian women who supported me and who later told me privately that he was an arrogant asshole. They laughed at him behind his back. But no one dared stand up to him at the dinner table; he was allowed to be rude to me. 

So many 'learned men' in academia are always saying how the reigning gurus in the field in which they themselves work are wrong and that they instead are right. It's envy; they all want to be the reigning gurus. The most disappointing aspect of academia was finding out that there is very little real thinking going on. The search for truth is sidestepped in the quest for power, prestige, and money. Most of the intellectually-stimulating and creative discussions I've had, have occurred outside of academia, with non-academics. Perhaps it's always been that way. I am so glad I am nearing the end of my academic career. I will not miss the male privilege and the bad behavior, the arrogance, the rudeness, the lack of creativity and the lack of real thinking. I will not miss the staid way of doing things. I will not miss the dinosaurs. And I am fairly certain that they will not miss me. 

Some reflections on a Saturday morning.

Every now and then I reflect on my work career, and what it has been like/is like to be a woman in a mostly male-dominated profession (at least when I started out). When I started out in science, it was not unusual to find a preponderance of men in the top positions (professor, research leader, department leader, group leader), whereas the majority of women were research technicians, junior scientists, or assistant professors. Very few were department heads or group leaders. There are more women in science now, and more women in top positions, but that has been a gradual development, and the profession still struggles with the loss of women once they reach the critical points in their careers where they have to decide if they want to be research or group leaders. The demands on their time are intense, and it's often hard to combine that with family life. So that is one problem that I see still exists, almost forty years after I started out in science. The married women I knew who had top positions when I was starting out had husbands who chose less demanding professions, or both had help from nannies when raising their children. However it worked out, women struggled to balance it all, and they are still struggling. Even here in Norway, a lot of the recent surveys have concluded that women still hesitate to invest the time in top leader positions because of the inevitable conflicts with family life. I don't have an answer; I think there will always be a conflict, because it is a question of prioritizing. If we prioritize family life, then our work lives can suffer, and if we prioritize our work lives, our family lives can suffer. Finding the balance is not an easy task. I never had my own children, so I was never faced with that conflict. But of course I was faced with the challenge of not devoting all my waking hours to my work at the expense of my family life. Having a husband who works in the same profession and who understands the demands it makes on our time, has been a godsend. When we were struggling to build careers, we invested a lot of time in our work. I don't regret it, because I am sure that I would have done the same thing no matter what profession I chose. I was raised to work hard and do my best. That meant hard work and long hours in order to become good at something. And I am good at what I do.

The latter is something I think about often now as I approach retirement. Have I done the best job I could do? Have I been a good mentor and leader for the younger women and men coming after me? The answer to the first question is yes, I have done the best job I could do given the talents I have. I have become a good scientist, albeit not a great one, and that is fine with me. I found my niche and did my best. I can honestly say that. I've published nearly one hundred articles, have had the chance to lead a small team of researchers, managed to get funding to support my position until I was hired permanently by my hospital, and have mentored Master and PhD students. I have believed in myself even when the odds were against me. I did not give up on myself, and that is thanks to my early bosses. I had bosses early on (in New York) who pushed me and challenged me to take on new opportunities, some of which I feared. But I did. They saw potential in me and were not afraid to push me to do something with it. But they did it in a respectful way. When I moved to Norway, I confronted new challenges, but without the same level of personal interest from my bosses. They were more interested in their own careers than in mine. I have discovered that this was often the case in academic science (that I grew up with), which is highly competitive. If a senior researcher showed a professional interest in you, it mostly had to do with what you could do for them. The outcome in any case was that both won in a sense--the senior researcher got the necessary lab work done by others, but the junior researchers got publications that helped them in their own careers. So even if the latter felt like slaves at times, it often ended well once they moved up the ladder and started research groups of their own. That is the way it used to be well into the early 2000s. And then it all changed. Younger people no longer had the chance to start their own research groups; they were suddenly expected to work for a senior group leader until they were well into their late 40s/early 50s. A lot of young people simply cannot accept this and leave academia for greener pastures that give them the chances that my husband and I were given in the 1990s. We had an intellectual independence and freedom that is no longer encouraged; now it is expected that you work in a large research group for one senior research leader and that you simply accept your role passively. You are not encouraged to start your own research group, and the (natural) desire to do so is frowned upon--you are looked upon as a troublemaker if you go around stating that you would like more intellectual freedom and independence so that you can start your own research group. I do not support this new way of doing science; it does nothing but create frustration and disappointment in young people in their professional prime. But that's the way it is now. When I talk to young people, I tell them what it was like for my husband and me; I don't want them to think that it was always as restrictive and demotivating as it is now. But it doesn't always register, because young people often think that the present is the only thing that counts. We were like that too, I guess.

The answer to the second question is also yes, with reservations. I had to grow into the role of mentor, and I did make some mistakes early on, especially when a student was stubborn or narcissistic. Nevertheless, I think I have done the best job I could do under sometimes difficult circumstances. I have reflected upon the psychological costs involved in pursuing an academic scientific career. The daily assaults on your self confidence, your expertise, your way of treating students--are many. I realize that I have a healthy self confidence; if I think I am right, it is because I have reflected on a particular situation and come to a conclusion that reflects that investment of time and reflection. It will then be difficult to sway me. I operate using principles that I grew up with--I believe in fair play, respect, and justice, and I behave accordingly. I treat others as I would like to be treated. I have tried to encourage my students to think for themselves, to have their own ideas and opinions, to think creatively. I have tried to get women to stop feeling guilty for saying no when it is their right to do so. So many women still think that saying no, as in--I cannot do this or that for you right now, I have no time, or I have other priorities--is a wrong way to behave. It is not. In my experience, saying no is what gets you noticed (and I am not talking about saying no in a rude way to your boss or about being difficult for the sake of being difficult). Saying no prevents you from becoming someone else's doormat. Saying yes all the time may work out well for some people, but it does not work out well for women. Saying no when necessary may get you labeled as difficult, but that most women can live with, in my opinion, or should get used to living with. Because whatever profession you choose, there will come a time when saying no is what will get you noticed. Saying no says--I am doing the best job I can, and if you want me to do more, then you need to sit down with me and negotiate that. You need to negotiate a reciprocal relationship that is win-win for all, not just for the senior leaders. Women often fall back on the service aspect--serving others, and that is fine, but it is also about taking care of yourself and what you want. Women should not be doormats at work, nor at home, and a workplace culture that pushes women to aspire to being doormats is not a workplace you want to work in. Do you want to take on that extra project for no extra pay and no recognition, at the expense of your free time or your family time, just because your boss asks you to because he or she knows it will get done well if you do it rather than giving it to the shirker in the department? Do you want to be available 24/7 to a workplace that won't think twice about laying you off in times of budget crises?

The word 'professional' has taken on a new meaning for me now after many years in the workforce. I define it as behavior that involves doing the best job you can, in an expert way, without becoming too emotionally involved or too loyal to your workplace. It means being aware of your valuable skills at all junctures. It means visualizing how valuable you are to your present company but also to other workplaces. It means never forgetting that. It means standing up for yourself. It means being able to negotiate with senior leaders about how those skills are to be used. It means being rational, logical, objective, rather than emotional, illogical, and subjective. It means seeing both sides and keeping a cool head in situations where others might become irrational (playing it cool). It means remaining centered in yourself; it means not letting other people push you off balance. Women need to learn more of this, and to learn the value of their own worth. Women also need to give up the idea that they need to be ‘rescuers’. Where you would rush in to save a sinking project that is the result of someone else's negligence (too many women I know), you should hold back and let it sink. You should let the chips fall where they may. You should let the shirkers face the negative feedback; let them face being exposed for the shirkers they are. You should let the bullies and harassers sink and not make excuses for them. You should not defend the demotivators or try to explain away their behavior. You should hold other people accountable for their bad behavior and not keep your mouth shut when you see injustice. You should not just blindly follow the crowd. You should stand apart, express your ideas and opinions, and keep on expressing them, in a professional and respectful way. You should remind yourself that 'being respectful and nice does not define you as a weak person', and that 'saying no does not define you as a bad person'. This is what I say to women now--be professional, have a healthy self-confidence, think for yourselves, and don't become workplace doormats. It's the only way to grow into the best versions of yourselves.

Those immortal egotists

There are people in society generally who think they’re going to live forever. They don’t acknowledge that they’ve gotten older, or if they do, it’s always got to be at the expense of someone in their vicinity. As in, ‘yes, I know I’m 75 years old, but you’re getting old/older too’. It’s as though they can never accept that they are old and that the world is no longer their oyster. They also cannot accept that the younger generation is replacing them at work, nor do they want to facilitate this process in the slightest. They will be lying on their deathbeds protesting that they still have so much to do, that their work is so important, and that no one can take their place. Never have I heard one of them say that they are satisfied with their long careers and that it’s time to hand the torch to the younger generation. They grudgingly give up their cushy leadership positions, they resent that they cannot get funding past a certain age, and when they are hospitalized for a serious illness (true story for one person I knew, now deceased), they are already making travel plans to hold their next lecture in one or another foreign country. They refuse to acknowledge old age or infirmity. Mortality does not exist.

I am no age discriminator. I am happy for the past-retirement age people I know who are still happily working in my workplace. Most of them have made their peace with their age and their retirement, and work part-time helping out on different research projects where they can contribute with their expertise. Win-win for all involved. The people I’m talking about are the few retirees who think they still rule the roost and that everything revolves around them, their wishes, and their projects and ideas. The egotists, the great immortal scientists, who cannot accept defeat or the fact that the younger scientists are taking their places. If you are one of these people, you will get zero sympathy from me. Why? Because everything is about you, your career (mostly on ice), your 'promising' future, your next research project that’s going to make you a star. You are pissed that the rest of the world doesn’t see how great you are or how much you have to offer. It doesn’t matter that you don’t care about the rules and regulations that have grown up around the practice of science; no, you want to do science, and you want your students to do science, the ‘way you always did it. It worked for me. I don’t care about the rules and regulations, and neither should my students, because I said so.’

I have no problem with a lifelong intellectual interest in science; I see that I will also have it when I am old. But I have a big problem when your unlimited ego interferes with the lives and careers of students who depend on you to be a mature person, to let go of your ego and to put their lives and careers first. But no, the great almighty immortal egotistical scientists cannot do this. They cannot let go, because that would be tantamount to admitting they were old and mortal. They cannot see reason, they cannot be mature, they must throw tantrums when their wishes are hindered, and they must get their way. All in the name of what? What is it they are going to achieve now in their mid-70s? I don’t doubt that their contributions are still worthwhile. I do doubt that their contributions are going to lead to abundant funding for their immortal research projects. I think that the really good scientists in the world are those who can pass the torch to their students and to the younger generation, who are generous with help and praise, and who do not set up roadblocks every step of the way for the students they mentor. These are the non-egotists, and these are the scientists who will be immortalized by history.

My post about sexual harassment from October 2016

I wrote a post called Defining sexual harassment in October 2016, and am re-posting it today. It is worth re-reading, if only to remind myself of what sexual harassment is, what some workplaces have done about it, and how nice the world would be for both genders if it simply disappeared. But of course bad behavior never just 'disappears'. It has to be fought tooth and nail before change comes about. I believe that time has come.

https://paulamdeangelis.blogspot.no/search?q=sexual+harassment

A deplorable case--professor sentenced to ten months in prison for spousal abuse

Anytime you might think that academia is peopled by individuals of high moral caliber and ethics, think again. Like all other professions, it has its share of undesirable and seedy individuals. Unfortunately, the average person has a tendency to associate higher education with a certain amount of nobility and with people who behave in a moral and ethical manner. It simply is not the case and I can attest to this. I have seen a lot in my long career, but this recent story takes the cake. I'm sure there have been similar types of cases at the university, but they have never gotten this far, probably because the women involved did not pursue them all the way to a court case, as is often the case with spousal abuse.
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Aftenposten  Published 21.11.2016, at. 9:40 p.m. NTB
A professor at the University of Oslo has been sentenced to ten months in prison for having abused his wife over an eighteen-month period.
Oslo District Court found the man in his early 50s guilty of having beaten his wife in the head with a wooden hammer, of placing a chisel in her mouth and of having tried to strangle her.
The Court emphasized that the abuse lasted from March 2013 until October the following year.
Furthermore, it emphasized the significant potential harm of the actions and the woman's experience of psychological terror and fear that her husband would end up killing her.
The matter was first reported to the police in October 2014, while the indictment came two years later. The court took this time delay into consideration and noted that the normal punishment without this reduction would have been one year. Three days spent in custody were deducted from the punishment.
The professor is also convicted of having obstructed the justice system. According to the verdict, he sent an e-mail to his wife in which he threatened her if their situation should come to trial and conviction.
The court did not attach much importance to the defendant's admission of partial guilt concerning some abusive episodes because he denied that they were violent. The court did not otherwise find any extenuating circumstances.
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Defining sexual harassment

Apropos my last post, about sexism and misogyny being alive and well--the Norwegian newspaper Morgenbladet, in a rather timely fashion, ran an article today about sexual harassment in academia. It was mostly depressing reading. Not only is sexual harassment underreported, there appear to be few to no rules and criteria concerning how to define it. Most of the behaviors described end up in a ‘gray area’, and most of the cases that are reported end up as a ‘his word against the victim’s word’ scenario. Few cases go further than university leadership, where they are reviewed and then dismissed. Generally, those who have been sexually harassed by their professors and mentors don’t report the harassment for fear that doing so will damage their careers. And why? Because it does. Because the focus falls on you, you become ‘the victim’. You become the center of unwanted attention. You become the difficult female employee who cannot take a joke. Because these male professors have a lot of power and prestige. They can make or break your career. So, like many of the women interviewed said, they put up with the gray area behavior.

What is sexually-harassing behavior in the academic workplace? That was a question that the article did ask. I said to my husband that maybe we have reached the point where we have to spell it out in black and white so that the rules and boundaries are clear, and crossing them gets you into big trouble. Most intelligent people I know have no problems with these boundaries; in fact, most men I have known in academia are not disrespectful toward women. It is the one or two rotten apples that spoil it for the many. Unfortunately, many of the rotten apples have an immense amount of power; they are institute leaders, department leaders, mentors, and so on. They know how to play the game, and how to use their power, and they do use it to subjugate women.

In my long experience in the workplace, here’s my list of how male mentors should not behave toward their female students. They should not be touching them, at all, anywhere on their bodies. They should not be hugging them or putting their arms around them. A handshake is fine. A smile is fine. They should not make sexual innuendoes or crude jokes about sex or about blow jobs or any other sexual activity to their students. They should not be having sex with their students. If a male mentor falls in love with his female student and the student reciprocates, then the appropriate conduct on the mentor’s part is to cease being that student’s mentor if both desire that the relationship continue. There are good reasons for this. If we love someone, we will support and defend them at the expense of others we care much less about. This cannot take place in the workplace; other students are bound to feel that the mentor favors the person he is in love with, and that is often the case. An already unbalanced work arena (academia) becomes even more unfair and unbalanced. I have seen all of the above-mentioned behaviors—institute leaders grabbing at the breasts of female students, a group leader starting off a dinner party by asking his guests, more than half of whom were females, if they knew what a blow job was. I’ve heard stories about male professors getting naked in their offices in an attempt to seduce their female students. Most common are the men who invade your private space, who cannot keep enough distance between you and them when they are sitting talking to you in a personal meeting. Then you have the men who ask inappropriate questions and are extremely interested in the intimate details of your relationship with your husband or boyfriend. In the end, it all comes down to and back to sex.

I simply did not expect to find these types of behavior in academic workplaces when I started out. I considered academia to be a noble profession, a cut above many others. My biggest disappointment about the academic workplace, after more than thirty years in it, is this. That to be treated as an equal, as a professional, remains a distant dream for many women. It has been hard enough for women in my generation to make inroads into the male-dominated academic arena and to be accepted as professionals. Adding sexual harassment into the mix is a bitter pill for those women who have experienced it. I always remember my father and how he treated me; he taught me to take myself and my intelligence seriously. I cannot ever remember him telling me that I could not reach this or that goal because I was a woman. He set me up for success in that respect; he was not a dinosaur, he was forward-thinking when it came to his daughters. I think he would have been as disappointed as I was and am to find out that academia is no better than many other professions when it comes to sexism and sexual harassment.

When I worked at the University of California at San Francisco (UCSF), I signed some form of contract as I remember, saying that I was bound to report any sexual harassing behavior that I experienced personally or witnessed around me. That was in 1993. I googled sexual harassment policies at UCSF today and this is what I found:
University of California – Policy Sexual Violence and Sexual Harassment Friday, December 18, 2015: 
I. POLICY SUMMARY The University of California is committed to creating and maintaining a community dedicated to the advancement, application and transmission of knowledge and creative endeavors through academic excellence, where all individuals who participate in University programs and activities can work and learn together in an atmosphere free of harassment, exploitation, or intimidation. Every member of the community should be aware that the University prohibits sexual violence and sexual harassment, retaliation, and other prohibited behavior (“Prohibited Conduct”) that violates law and/or University policy. The University will respond promptly and effectively to reports of Prohibited Conduct and will take appropriate action to prevent, to correct, and when necessary, to discipline behavior that violates this policy on Sexual Violence and Sexual Harassment (hereafter referred to as Policy). This Policy addresses the University of California’s responsibilities and procedures related to Prohibited Conduct in order to ensure an equitable and inclusive education and employment environment free of sexual violence and sexual harassment. The Policy defines conduct prohibited by the University of California and explains the administrative procedures the University uses to resolve reports of Prohibited Conduct.
Sexual Harassment:
a. Sexual Harassment is unwelcome sexual advances, unwelcome requests for sexual favors, and other unwelcome verbal, nonverbal or physical conduct of a sexual nature when: i. Quid Pro Quo: a person’s submission to such conduct is implicitly or explicitly made the basis for employment decisions, academic evaluation, grades or advancement, or other decisions affecting participation in a University program; or ii. Hostile Environment: such conduct is sufficiently severe or pervasive that it unreasonably denies, adversely limits, or interferes with a person’s participation in or benefit from the education, employment or other programs and services of the University and creates an environment that a reasonable person would find to be intimidating or offensive. 
b. Consideration is given to the totality of the circumstances in which the conduct occurred. Sexual harassment may include incidents: i. between any members of the University community, including faculty and other academic appointees, staff, student employees, students, coaches, residents, interns, and non-student or nonemployee participants in University programs (e.g., vendors, contractors, visitors, and patients); ii. in hierarchical relationships and between peers; and iii. between individuals of any gender or gender identity. 
c. This Policy shall be implemented in a manner that recognizes the importance of the rights to freedom of speech and expression and shall not be interpreted to prohibit expressive conduct that is protected by the free speech and academic freedom principles discussed in Section III.F. 3. 
Other Prohibited Behavior 
a. Invasions of Sexual Privacy i. Without a person’s consent, watching or enabling others to watch that person’s nudity or sexual acts in a place where that person has a reasonable expectation of privacy; ii. Without a person’s consent, making photographs (including videos) or audio recordings, or posting, transmitting or distributing such recorded material depicting that person’s nudity or sexual acts in a place where that person has a reasonable expectation of privacy; or iii. Using depictions of nudity or sexual activity to extort something of value from a person. 
b. Sexual intercourse with a person under the age of 18. 
c. Exposing one’s genitals in a public place for the purpose of sexual gratification. 
d. Failing to comply with the terms of a no-contact order, a suspension of any length, or any order of exclusion issued under this Policy.

Norwegian academic institutions and universities do have similar policies, e.g. the University of Oslo's outlined here (https://www.uio.no/om/hms/arbeidsmiljo/prosedyrer/trakassering/). How well the policies are enforced is another story. Notice that the UC policy above does not spell out specific offensive behaviors; I would imagine that it doesn’t because women experience sexual harassment differently. And some sexually-harassing behavior is blatant, whereas other behavior is more subtle. The latter is the most difficult to identify and discuss and put an end to. Let’s hope the coming generations manage that. In the meantime, I can’t wait for the dinosaurs and the sexual harassers to become extinct.

Soul-sucking exercise in futility

After a wonderful and relaxing summer, I was actually ready to go back to work. I cannot honestly say I was looking forward to the daily grind again, but my mood was positive and upbeat. You might even say I was motivated to start a new academic year. Unfortunately, those feelings never last. They are replaced by ennui, resignation and boredom once the grant application season starts or once we start to get replies from the grant organizations to which we applied before the summer months. You would think that after so many years in the business that rejection gets easier to take. It doesn’t, at least not initially. By the end of the day however, I have recovered from it, compared to perhaps several days some years ago when I actually cared more.

I did not spend much time on grant applications this year, since I and my colleagues agreed that we would spend the next year working diligently on new projects and generating data so that we could use that data in next year’s applications. Applying for grant funding at present is a soul-sucking exercise in futility. The funding situation is so brutally competitive that it makes no sense to waste precious time on writing and sending an application with preliminary data; it will not get funded, period. You need to be an established researcher in your field, and it gets harder and harder to remain in that field if you don't get funding. I sent only one grant application to a private foundation that has supported us previously with funds for a PhD position. I was hoping to get funding; I asked for about 180,000 USD to cover a two-year technical position plus costs for lab consumables and overhead. After all, the foundation knows that we can deliver the goods—their support of my PhD student was money well-spent since it led to a successful PhD defense back in 2010. However…….

The foundation’s board members were not entirely negative to my application for a technician. They agreed to give our institute one-third of the amount I applied for, with the stipulation that I come up with the remaining two-thirds. In other words, I cannot accept their 33.3 % funding unless I can guarantee them that I will obtain the remaining 66.6% from other sources. I have to find someone willing to support us with 120,000 USD or I cannot receive the 60,000 USD they are offering. It’s laughable if it didn’t make you want to cry first. The reason I am applying to this foundation is because all other sources of funding have dried up at this point. I have a snowball’s chance in hell of raising 120,000 USD. So it doesn’t look like our group is getting a research technician any time soon, which is unfortunate because a full-time technician is exactly what we need.

I will allow for the possibility that the foundation doesn’t really understand the brutality of the funding situation. But hopes get raised and dreams get smashed each year, and for each year that passes, I see less and less point in the whole process. I struggle to find meaning in such a soulless and brutal profession. Any wonder that I prefer to be alone in my garden these days, with no interference or constant rejection to deal with? I understand the laws of nature and manage to work with them--a peaceful co-existence. Sometimes things grow and sometimes they don't. Sometimes the slugs win and sometimes they don't. But there is at least some reward for the hard work. In academia, there is none.

Weighing in on #distractinglysexy

This past week showed me just how well female scientists can defend themselves against the sexism that still exists in the noble profession of academia. It also pointed out to me yet again the power of social media, for better or for worse, in dealing with political incorrectness. For those of you who don’t know what transpired, here’s the story. The 2001 Nobel Prize winner Sir Tim Hunt from Britain, 72 years old, opened a conference in South Korea with what he deemed to be a joke about women in science. He said essentially that girls (he did not use the word women, mind you) fall in love with you and you with them, that they distract you (men) from doing science, that they cry when criticized, and that he was in favor of single-sex labs *. Social media exploded predictably with appropriate and inappropriate responses. Hunt later apologized for his foolish remarks but not for his beliefs. Because he does believe that what he said about women is the truth. Nowadays you have to be very careful about what you say if you are in the public eye, because social media will try you and fry you for your transgressions, superficial opinions and comments. I’m not going to enter a debate about the pros and cons of social media; I leave that to others. I will say that I found the responses of a majority of female scientists to be quite amusing. Rather than going on a strident attack, they responded to the situation in a humorous fashion. I don’t know who started the hashtag #distractinglysexy, but if you go onto Twitter and search for it, you will be rewarded with a number of tweets that will leave you laughing—photos and accompanying comments of women dressed in lab coats, protective gear, goggles, hats, etc., all of whom comment on how ‘distractingly sexy’ they look while carrying out their laboratory work. They took the piss out of Hunt’s comments by doing so. That is the intelligent and cunning response.  

I have worked in laboratories all my working life. Being a scientist has been my career. I’ve done alright through the years, and as many of my readers know from other posts, I’ve had the support of male mentors who have done their level best to ensure that I succeeded, or had the same opportunities as the men around me to succeed. But there were a few men who behaved questionably toward me up through the years. I learned to deflect their sexist comments that came my way—about sitting on their laps, about the view of my rear end when I bent over, about my being ‘unbalanced’ when I shed a few tears in anger and frustration about not getting a raise I more than deserved, and about whether I planned on becoming pregnant. I am well aware that I am no exception to these kinds of comments; I grew up in an era when women were making inroads into the workforce and certain types of men found that threatening, irritating, or pointless. They needed to make women feel inferior; I remember thinking ‘their poor wives, having to put up with them’. Certain types of men still react that way. Unfortunately, I learned along the way that certain types of women also react that way. Not all women help other women in the lab. Again, we can argue for and against this fact. Should women support women unequivocally? I try to provide moral support for the younger women I work with, simply because I know how hard it is to climb the academic ladder. But I do the same with the younger men as well. Because their lot is not easy these days either; there is less money and fewer positions. It’s a dog-eat-dog world in academia, even more so than before.

This episode points out that the world NEEDS to be reminded every now and then of all of the women in science who have done terrific science, who have worked tirelessly to promote good science, who have won Nobel Prizes, some of whom have done so while raising a family. Kudos to them—to Marie Curie, Barbara McClintock, Gertrude Elion, Rosalind Franklin, Ada Lovelace, Rita Levi-Montalcini, Rachel Carson, Dian Fossey, Jane Goodall, Lise Meitner, Elizabeth Blackburn, and Dorothy Hodgkin, to name a few. I could also list the many female scientists I know internationally who plod along, doing their daily work, writing papers, publishing, and mentoring students. All of them are equal-opportunity employers and mentors; I don’t think I’ve ever heard one of them express a preference for female students or employees at the expense of men. They are not sexist. Perhaps the male twits in the scientific community could learn from and be inspired by them, and then maybe we would not have to listen to their twaddle any longer.

Apropos, I was going to call this post 'A Twit, His Twaddle, and Twitter', but opted for the current title. But I like the other one too (I'm happy with the alliteration).

*This is what Tim Hunt was reported to have said:

“Let me tell you about my trouble with girls........Three things happen when they are in the lab: You fall in love with them, they fall in love with you, and when you criticize them they cry.” After offering an apparent apology, he dug the hole he was in even deeper when he said “I did mean the part about having trouble with girls. It's terribly important that you can criticize people’s ideas without criticizing them and if they burst into tears, it means that you tend to hold back from getting at the absolute truth. Science is about nothing but getting at the truth.”

How a scientist's worth is measured in academia

I promised myself that I wouldn’t post too many work-related pieces anymore, mostly because there’s so little about modern workplaces these days that is positive in my estimation. Most of the posts would just be depressing. You might think that 'noble' academia would be somewhat better than non-academic workplaces that are simply out to make a profit, but you'd be wrong. After reading this article online yesterday, I simply had to comment on it, as depressing as it is. It is a tragic real-life story of a gifted scientist in England named Stefan Grimm who simply couldn’t take the pressure of the ‘business of science’ anymore and committed suicide (http://www.timeshighereducation.co.uk/news/imperial-college-professor-stefan-grimm-was-given-grant-income-target/2017369.article; http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2861588/Professor-dead-cash-row-Cancer-scientist-said-told-fellow-academics-chiefs-treated-like-s.html). Before he did, he wrote an email to his colleagues telling them about what had happened to him and how his workplace had treated him. This incident took place in England, but I can assure you that the ‘business of science’ in Norway is no different. Universities and research institutes treat their scientists in much the same way; the only difference is that universities here cannot fire their scientists for not hauling in huge amounts of grant money, because scientists are unionized and that affords them some protection. But if they could, universities and research institutes would fire scientists without money because they are a drain on the workplace; it doesn’t matter if they have years of expertise, if they are professors and can teach, or even if they write articles and publish frequently. This country is no different than any other westernized capitalistic country in the world when it comes to worshiping money, even if it likes to think otherwise about itself.

For those of you who romanticize the world of academic scientific research, this article should rid you of any notion that there is anything idealistic or even noble about academic research these days. There isn’t. Firstly, it’s BIG BUSINESS now, and it’s been big business for a while. Money is the operative word. Those who make it to the top and gain power, those who are ‘successful’, are those who drag in hundreds of thousands or even millions of dollars in grant awards. In other words, your funding is ALL that matters; it defines your worth in your workplace—period, and if you don’t get funding, you are worth nothing to your workplace. Even if you got funding five or ten years ago, not one person who sits in a leadership position cares about that or even cares enough to remember that; the ONLY thing that matters is: did you get funding this year, this month, this week? And did you get a lot of funding? What is the innovative potential of your work and can it make us money? Are you patenting your work? Theoretically, I don’t have a problem with the idea that a workplace should benefit financially from the research of its employees if their work leads to a profitable drug or treatment, for example. But it’s gotten way out of hand in reality.

Secondly, there is subtle AGE DISCRIMINATION being practiced. I know scientists who were once productive, with small research groups working on interesting topics, who no longer get research funding. Why does funding suddenly dry up? It’s certainly not a gradual change; rather it is an abrupt one. Why do good scientists who once got decent funding, no longer get any funding whatsoever? One possible reason is that they are now middle-aged (late forties/early fifties for most of us; but in Norway, you are old at 53, and I can find many articles that corroborate this). These middle-aged scientists no longer get any financial support whatsoever, not from external granting agencies nor from their universities or research institutes. They get their salaries and that’s it. It borders on idiocy. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: if you don’t get funded, you don’t get students. Without students, you have zero chance of getting substantial research done. Without research data, there are no publications, and without publications, you have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting a grant award. After several years of this vicious circle, management steps in and tells you that it’s your fault you don’t get money, when in reality it’s not. In many cases it is age discrimination, albeit subtle. It could never be overt; think of the lawsuits. You simply reached the magic age at which point you are old and no longer ‘worth funding’. The problem of course is that you cannot retire with a good pension at 53 years of age. So you hang around your workplace hoping your luck will change. Everyone involved knows it won’t. It goes from bad to worse. Years go by with the same results; there are no publications and now management wants to know why there has been no progression in your work. What can you say? It’s merely survival of the fittest; you’ve seen the nature programs where the young males attack the old ones for control of the tribe or the harems. The same occurs in academia; once you’re labeled as old, you’re finished. You are punished for growing old.

Thirdly, if you are not designated as the absolute BEST OF THE BEST, CREAM OF THE CROP, you are finished in research these days before you even get started. Academic research science is beyond elitist at this point; it’s more like trying to make it through the proverbial eye of the needle. Almost no one manages that. Young people do their PhDs and then move on to something else; few to none are offered a post-doc position in any given research organization (http://www.theguardian.com/higher-education-network/blog/2014/may/23/so-many-phd-students-so-few-jobs). One or two may end up as the 'chosen ones', the ones that management deems worthy enough to bet on. The reason given is that they are the brightest of the bunch, but often it’s nepotism in action—those that move upward are often simply those who are management’s favorites. They are the ones who are granted the academic career opportunities. They join the networks that management has laid out for them; all involved know that this is the key to gaining grant funding, since colleagues in those networks often work in positions that have enough clout to ensure that those networks get funding. They may not review the actual grant applications, but they have a say in the final prioritization of grant applications that have been recommended for funding by external reviewers. 

  

Finally, many universities now take on far too many PhD students, knowing full well that there are no careers for them in academic science, and knowing full well that they cannot offer them any sort of job future. It’s irresponsible behavior. But there’s money involved, so that makes it ok in the eyes of the universities. PhD students come with a specific sum of money for consumables and small expenses, and additionally, if you are the primary adviser, you get a tidy sum of money for having been an adviser, once the student is finished. Additionally, more students means more hands in the lab to do the research work. Who is going to turn that down? And who is going to be honest enough about the lack of academic career opportunities to tell potential PhD students to consider another profession because there are no jobs for them once they're finished? I do it as a senior researcher, but very few others do. I've said it before but it bears repeating; there are better, healthier and yes, nobler ways of earning a living and making yourself useful to society. Find them. 

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P.S. This is the email that Stefan Grimm wrote to his colleagues before he committed suicide, including the link to the article that published it. 

http://www.dcscience.net/2014/12/01/publish-and-perish-at-imperial-college-london-the-death-of-stefan-grimm/

Begin forwarded message:

From: Stefan Grimm <professorstefangrimm@gmail.com>

Date: 21 October 2014 23:41:03 BST

To:

Subject: How Professors are treated at Imperial College

Dear all,

If anyone is interested how Professors are treated at Imperial College: Here is my story.

On May 30th ’13 my boss, Prof Martin Wilkins, came into my office together with his PA and ask me what grants I had. After I enumerated them I was told that this was not enough and that I had to leave the College within one year – “max” as he said. He made it clear that he was acting on behalf of Prof Gavin Screaton, the then head of the Department of Medicine, and told me that I would have a meeting with him soon to be sacked. Without any further comment he left my office. It was only then that I realized that he did not even have the courtesy to close the door of my office when he delivered this message. When I turned around the corner I saw a student who seems to have overheard the conversation looking at me in utter horror.

Prof Wilkins had nothing better to do than immediately inform my colleagues in the Section that he had just sacked me.

Why does a Professor have to be treated like that?

All my grant writing stopped afterwards, as I was waiting for the meeting to get sacked by Prof Screaton. This meeting, however, never took place.

In March ’14 I then received the ultimatum email below. 200,000 pounds research income every year is required. Very interesting. I was never informed about this before and cannot remember that this is part of my contract with the College. Especially interesting is the fact that the required 200,000.- pounds could potentially also be covered by smaller grants but in my case a programme grant was expected.

Our 135,000.- pounds from the University of Dammam? Doesn’t count. I have to say that it was a lovely situation to submit grant applications for your own survival with such a deadline. We all know what a lottery grant applications are.

There was talk that the Department had accepted to be in dept for some time and would compensate this through more teaching. So I thought that I would survive. But the email below indicates otherwise. I got this after the student for whom I “have plans” received the official admission to the College as a PhD student. He waited so long to work in our group and I will never be able to tell him that this should now not happen. What these guys don’t know is that they destroy lives. Well, they certainly destroyed mine.

The reality is that these career scientists up in the hierarchy of this organization only look at figures to judge their colleagues, be it impact factors or grant income. After all, how can you convince your Department head that you are working on something exciting if he not even attends the regular Departmental seminars? The aim is only to keep up the finances of their Departments for their own career advancement.

These formidable leaders are playing an interesting game: They hire scientists from other countries to submit the work that they did abroad under completely different conditions for the Research Assessment that is supposed to gauge the performance of British universities. Afterwards they leave them alone to either perform with grants or being kicked out. Even if your work is submitted to this Research Assessment and brings in money for the university, you are targeted if your grant income is deemed insufficient. Those submitted to the research assessment hence support those colleagues who are unproductive but have grants. Grant income is all that counts here, not scientific output.

We had four papers with original data this year so far, in Cell Death and Differentiation, Oncogene, Journal of Cell Science and, as I informed Prof Wilkins this week, one accepted with the EMBO Journal. I was also the editor of a book and wrote two reviews. Doesn’t count.

This leads to a interesting spin to the old saying “publish or perish”. Here it is “publish and perish”.

Did I regret coming to this place? I enormously enjoyed interacting with my science colleagues here, but like many of them, I fell into the trap of confusing the reputation of science here with the present reality. This is not a university anymore but a business with very few up in the hierarchy, like our formidable duo, profiteering and the rest of us are milked for money, be it professors for their grant income or students who pay 100.- pounds just to extend their write-up status.

If anyone believes that I feel what my excellent coworkers and I have accomplished here over the years is inferior to other work, is wrong. With our apoptosis genes and the concept of Anticancer Genes we have developed something that is probably much more exciting than most other projects, including those that are heavily supported by grants.

Was I perhaps too lazy? My boss smugly told me that I was actually the one professor on the whole campus who had submitted the highest number of grant applications. Well, they were probably simply not good enough.

I am by far not the only one who is targeted by those formidable guys. These colleagues only keep quiet out of shame about their situation. Which is wrong. As we all know hitting the sweet spot in bioscience is simply a matter of luck, both for grant applications and publications.

Why does a Professor have to be treated like that?

One of my colleagues here at the College whom I told my story looked at me, there was a silence, and then said: “Yes, they treat us like sh*t”.

Best regards,

Stefan Grimm