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. 

Our recently-published article in Anticancer Research

I'm proud of our article that was just published in Anticancer Research. The article has been placed in 'Issue Highlights' as well (Anticancer Research (iiarjournals.org). It's a nice way to round off my career in academic science. My co-authors and I worked hard on this article; we started the work in 2017 and I finished most of the data analysis and writing of the article in February 2021. One of the co-authors (Sean Pham) did his Masters degree studying one of the DNA repair proteins (PARP1); he successfully defended his work in 2018. So all in all--a productive last four years. I'm grateful to know/have known some wonderful research technicians, Masters students, PhD students, and pathologists. Without them, this article would never have seen the light of day. Teamwork. When science is about teamwork and working together toward the goal of publishing what one studies, nothing in the world beats it--that feeling of contributing new knowledge to the field, however small a contribution. That feeling has nothing to do with power or politics, just with pure knowledge and intellectual satisfaction. 

I also want to thank the research foundation at Oslo University Hospital for their generous support of my research during the past ten years. I don't know what I would have done without them, because most small academic scientists like myself, who enjoy working independently and are not part of huge centers of excellence, don't get funding anymore from the large granting organizations and institutions like the Norwegian Cancer Society and the Norwegian Research Council. So thanks to the hospital research foundation from the bottom of my heart. You kept us going during tough times. I'd like to think that your support of us is money well-spent. 

Here is the link to the article if you'd like to check it out: DNA Repair Protein Expression and Oxidative/Nitrosative Stress in Ulcerative Colitis and Sporadic Colorectal Cancer | Anticancer Research (iiarjournals.org)

Leaving behind the big business and bureaucracy of academic science

I have written several posts in past years about my preference for small organizations/companies and small research groups in the world of scientific research, be they in the public or private sector. It wasn’t always so; when I was starting out in the work world, there was something enticing about working for a large company, e.g. a pharmaceutical company. There was something attractive about being a small fish in a large pond, so to speak. Even though you could be surrounded by an ocean of people, it still felt as though there were possibilities as long as you worked hard and did your job. It felt like the world was your oyster. That was in 1980s America, specifically Manhattan. I have not physically experienced the changes that have occurred since that time because I moved abroad and began working in Norway in 1990. But I have kept abreast of the different changes both there and here via books, the news and social media. And the academic scientific workplace has changed enormously in Norway since 1990. One must expect change, I know that. I know too that the changes I’ve witnessed here in Norway are not specific to Norway, although Norway puts its own stamp on them. They are global changes--the huge growth of bureaucracy, the emphasis on mergers that result in huge organizations/companies, the loss of individuality in the workplace, the dominance of program-driven research, the emphasis on huge research groups (think centers of excellence), the inability to obtain funding for non-program-driven research and the demise of small research groups, scientific publishing as big business, to name a few.

I have worked in the public sector for most of my research career, over thirty years here in Oslo and at least three years in Manhattan. I have seven years of research experience working in the private sector (a well-known cancer hospital). There are advantages and disadvantages to working in both the public and private sectors. I know this from my friends in the USA who have worked in the private sector (doing R&D for pharmaceutical companies) for most of their careers. Very few regret working in the private sector. They were well-paid, recognized for what they did, and when they retired, they left knowing that they made a substantial contribution to their workplace. I doubt any of them felt like a fifth wheel (superfluous or burdensome). The main complaint they had was not that there was lack of money for research projects; rather that there could be pressure on them to produce results, and when those results were not forthcoming fast enough, projects were cancelled in favor of new and more promising projects. But the public sector is no better. I know this to be true. There, many projects don’t even get that far, because they don’t get funded from the start. Many good ideas die on the planning table because there is a lack of funding to implement them. Why? Because academic research is big business now; huge sums of money get tossed around, and tossed to those who have great ambitions and five-year plans that promise the delivery of great (innovative and marketable) results. It’s often the same researchers who lead program-driven research centers who get funding; small research groups or researchers with less lofty ambitions do not get funded anymore. ‘Bigger is better’ in all respects. Actually, ‘bigger is best’, because if you think ‘big’, you are thought to be an ambitious scientist, a market- and innovation-driven scientist, a high-flyer. If you don’t think big, you’re less employable because you’re considered second-best, mediocre, unambitious, or not good enough. Many small research groups have innovative ideas and good plans for how to translate and implement them; it doesn’t matter because they no longer get funding to do so. Most research in the public sector is done by large centers of excellence (populated by project groups that are protected and funded by the center heads). Academic science is big business now, with emphasis on big. We’re talking tens of millions of dollars in grant funding to program-driven research alone at present. Some of that money goes to actual research; some of it goes to the bureaucracy needed to run these huge centers—secretaries, accountants, advisors, human resources, etc. Just a decade or two ago, a researcher working in a small group doing non-program-driven research could obtain fifty to one hundred thousand dollars per year in funding to carry out his or her small research projects independent of large centers of excellence. That meant a lot to those researchers. But no more. The government doesn’t want small research groups anymore, even though many of the top researchers in the USA have stated publicly that the best ideas often come from small research groups. It doesn’t matter here in Norway. They know best, and big is the politically-correct mantra, in all things.

Eventually, facing this overwhelming hugeness at all turns takes its toll on researchers who work in small research groups and who want to pursue non-program-driven research. There are only so many times they can apply for funding and get continually rejected in favor of the centers of excellence and program-driven research. There are only so many times they can be told to keep plodding on—‘one day you’ll get funding’—when everyone who understands the system understands that this is just lying. There are only so many years they can keep working as post-docs or junior scientists, waiting for their chance to finally ‘belong’. There are only so many years they can deal with the rejection, the loneliness, the demotivation, the lack of recognition for what they do. Keeping their heads above water, competing with the centers of excellence for funding, being told by department research leaders that they’re mediocre because they don’t get funding (when they can’t get funding because they don’t do program-driven research), all these things are counterproductive at best. None of it is good for mental or physical health, and none of it is good for sanity. If all these scientists ever hear is negative feedback, then they become cynical, demotivated, and demoralized. Most research leaders don’t seem to care about that; some few do. Some few are fighting for a return to non-program-driven research and for the survival of small research groups. But I doubt that they’ll get far. One could ask why these ‘small’ scientists simply don’t hop on the program-driven research bandwagon, why they don’t become politically-correct scientists. The answer is that not all scientists are the same; they are individuals with different motives and goals. That should be respected and encouraged; at present, it is not. I no longer encourage small scientists to stay in academia. I am retiring soon and can now speak the truth. It is a waste of their time and of those precious years when they could be doing good research, preferably in the private sector, where their skills and talents will most likely be more appreciated than in the public sector, where after some years of not ‘measuring up’, they become the fifth wheels, superfluous and bothersome to their institutions, and unwanted.

Stick to your business

Many years ago, my husband and I had the privilege of working in a large lab in California headed by a man whom I can only call a visionary scientist. He was one of those rare scientists who made things happen, whose ideas were ground-breaking and game-changers. It was an exciting time in our lives, when we ourselves were still young scientists who hadn’t yet built scientific careers. Even then, I was an observer in terms of watching how he led his lab, and I learned a lot from him. For starters, he surrounded himself with talented people who were smart and who worked hard. He expected a lot from them, but the rewards for producing were good. He was good at picking the right people to have around him—a good blend of visionaries like himself as well as scientists who were able to translate his ideas into practice using ingenuity and inventiveness and the more technical scientists who were able to use these new ideas and procedures to answer specific questions and to generate more questions. In all cases, these scientists were concerned with the practice of science, and they stuck to their business, to what they were good at. He was also an excellent grant writer who had paid his dues working in national government labs for most of his adult life; he had learned the practice of science and managed to draw in quite a lot of funding for the lab that he headed.

I remember that he visited us here in Oslo some years later. I picked him up at his hotel to drive him back to our house for dinner, to which we had invited another couple who also worked in science. It was a pleasant evening. But what I remember most was the conversation I had with him when we were driving to our house at the beginning of the evening. I had just finished my doctoral work and was starting on my postdoctoral work, but I had some misgivings about pursuing an academic career. I was describing to him my different interests and how I felt pulled in several different directions. I remember exactly what he said to me--‘stick to your business’. That was about twenty years ago. Since then, the world of academic research science has changed tremendously, and it has become harder to stick to the business of just doing science. Business administration, leadership education, public relations and social networking have become part and parcel of an academic scientific career. To some extent, they always were, from the standpoint that it was good to know how to run a lab or to run a research group, but they weren’t the main focus. The main focus was always on the science. Nowadays, it is quite different. There is a multifocal approach to science that I don’t think benefits the profession because the multifocal aspects are time-drainers. Academic scientists are pulled in all directions now; they are supposed to be scientists, grant writers, business leaders, networkers, sales people, administrators, technical managers, and personnel managers. They are expected to understand complicated accounting and budget practices. They are expected to understand a multitude of bureaucratic procedures, all of which involve complicated legal aspects having to do with e.g. patient confidentiality if one works with patient data. One should understand the use of databases, registers, and complex statistical programs. There are lengthy leadership courses to attend so that one can become a good business leader. There are courses having to do with animal welfare if you plan on using animals for experiments, courses about good clinical practice, how to biobank, how to use quality registers, how to create quality presentations, how to write fundable grants, LEAN for hospital administration, and so on. It all ‘sounds’ good in theory, but in practice, they all take valuable time away from the actual doing of science, which is the only activity that will make you a good scientist. Working in the lab and actually doing science are what make you a good scientist. Reading scientific articles, coming up with new ideas based on what you’ve read, trying and failing, making mistakes, learning and following procedures and recipes, making solutions and buffers, reading technical manuals for complicated instrumentation, writing and publishing scientific articles, writing grants—all of those things will ensure that you become a good scientist. Taking a course here and there to learn a new lab procedure that will aid your scientific project is a good idea. Mentoring Masters and PhD students is also a good idea and will help you become a good mentor and manager. Training research technicians and working closely together with them on research projects will make you a good manager, or at least reveal to you whether or not you will qualify to be a research group leader. The rewards for such mentoring and training will be competent workers and independent thinkers who will further your research projects. That is sticking to your business. Attending generalized business leadership courses, although interesting, will not make you a better scientist. But nowadays, it is the norm to be all things to all people. In the space of twenty years, academic science has become less scientific and more business-like. It has been a strange evolution that I don’t think has been beneficial for the profession. The overall idea is perhaps that scientists should be able to adapt themselves to any profession if necessary. But the visionary aspect of science loses out. The purity of science loses out. Academic science has moved in a more mundane direction, concerned more with business administration/practices, PR, salesmanship, networking, self-improvement, public speaking, and interpersonal skills than with much else. Yes, it helps to be able to hold a polished presentation, or to know how to network, but something has been lost in the process. Perhaps it is what I call the eccentricities and difficulties of science and scientists. The practice of science is not supposed to be smooth and predictable, or controllable, or able to be perfectly regulated. The unpredictability of doing research, the not knowing how it all will turn out, is what makes academic science interesting and rewarding. It is the eureka moments in the lab that one remembers, those moments when you know that the practice of pure science is worth it.