If you need a good laugh, here are some recent comic strips from two of my favorites--Pearls Before Swine and Non Sequitur:
Pearls Before Swine by Stephan Pastis |
"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.
Non Sequitur by Wiley Miller is one of my favorite comic strips. I thought this comic from a few days ago was rather apt, since the people who need to be outraged on a daily basis get excellent help from the media--newspapers, cable news, television news, online news. Take your pick.
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.
And that's exactly how I feel right now, a few days away from my official retirement date. I am at the end of something--a long career in science, and it feels like an ending, as well it should. It will be emotionally tough to say goodbye to many of my colleagues and collaborators. But I know I will stay in touch with many of them, because we already see each other socially outside of work. So right now it's just to get through the next few days.
Because this time in my life also feels like the beginning of something new, and that feeling is a good one to have right now. I look forward to this new phase in my life, to the opportunities, possibilities and unknown positive challenges of the future. I look forward to more time to write, to garden, to travel and be together with friends and family. I look forward to time to myself, to reflect on what has been and to write about it. But I mostly want to live in the present and not be overly-nostalgic for what was. Because in truth, we can never go back to what was and there's no point in wasting much time and mental energy on missing what once was. One can say that certain aspects of the past were very nice and that we have some wonderful memories to look back on. But I'm excited and eager to make new memories together with the people I love.
The spider and the honeybee |
Iberia slug eggs Adult Iberia slug (photo from Norway party proposes 'slug hour' to tackle invasive pests - BBC News) |
We are told and we tell ourselves little lies in order to live in this world and in our ambition-fueled society. Those little lies enable us to carry on through our adult lives. They begin when we are students and young adults, usually started by those older and more experienced than us. When I was in college and starting out in the work world, they sounded something like this: study hard and you'll go far, or having a career is very important, or the work you're doing is important, or we need your expertise and knowledge, or you're a valuable asset to our workplace. They're nice little lies, definitely with a core of truth to them, but the danger is when you start to believe them wholeheartedly. Because it's not always true that if you study hard you'll go far, or that having a career is very important, or that you're a valuable asset to your workplace (because no one is indispensable, which you'll find it if they need to fire employees). I could list up many examples of where the 'lies' don't reflect reality despite the best of intentions, high motivation, and hard work. Sometimes life gets in the way, sometimes workplace leaders get in the way, and sometimes we ourselves get in our own way. Or sometimes a combination of all three.
I was reminded of how much we want to believe the little lies when I was in conversation with a co-worker today. I have never really understood him or how he views his work life, but I've always made time to talk to him. He is a perpetual procrastinator, a dreamer of sorts whose ambitions are way too big for his personality, and a person who claims to have self-insight but who nonetheless believes the lies he tells himself. In his case, those lies extend to his view of himself as essential to his workplace. I know employees much older than him who think the same way. They have inflated views of their own importance and they believe those views, often propped up by others. They talk the talk--that they're going to do this and that, that they're going to take a positive approach to their jobs (when they've spent years being demotivated), that they're going to 'ordne opp' (sort it out) as the Norwegians say. Ok, I think, perhaps this time it will happen. But it never does. In a few months, the demotivation and procrastination have returned. I believe that demotivation and procrastination drive some people. They need to talk about feeling demotivated in order to feel relevant, in order to perhaps feel something. When you are unsure of your relevance to your workplace, you can feel demotivated, especially when you are not recognized for your contribution. Likewise, you can feel motivated when you are recognized for your hard work. The problem is that many employees feel demotivated, which tells me that many employees are unsure of their relevance to their workplaces. The reality is that most of us are dispensable. Modern workplaces are too big, and most employees are merely very small fish in very big ponds. Some employees never get used to that. If you do get used to it, you eventually lose the ability to become demotivated. You understand your little place in the scheme of things, you find your niche somewhere, and you join the ranks of the faceless anonymous employees who were once looking for recognition but who realized after some years that they will never get that in a huge workplace. You understand that very few people, if any, are truly relevant to their workplaces. You can always be replaced. Leaders shift jobs every three or four years--starting over at a new workplace and hellbent on making their mark. Middle managers shift jobs as well, as do their employees, advisers and assistants.
Today, I could see through the veil of little lies. I realized I am tired of the lies, of listening to the same old spiel--the motivational spiel that we hear from leaders and co-workers. My soul is tired, tired of hearing about fake ambitions and competition that leads nowhere, tired of the elitism and egoism of academia. I am tired of vague and non-committal leaders and of employees who won't stand up for fair treatment of other employees. I've opened my mouth time and again over the years with regard to the latter, but much less so during the past few years. More and more, it began to feel pointless, as did so many other things I could have complained about. Some things change, but mostly, workplace behavior and certain workplace environments do not. I became pragmatic over the years; I said very little to co-workers, but set about making small goals for myself and fulfilling them. While the others were talking 'big', I was thinking small and working small. I prefer small. And in that way, I fulfilled my modest ambitions. I realized that my ambitions have always been modest. That was probably a problem for some leaders, but not for me, because I understood that I don't have what it takes to talk 'big'. I leave the big talk over to others with sky-high ambitions. But now I know that the big talk can merely be more lies to convince others and themselves of their importance. I wonder sometimes if they can see through their own lies. I do know that I'm not likely to get an honest answer to that question.
My post yesterday about how we listen to others got me thinking about how I listen to others. When I was in my teens and early twenties, I think I listened to understand but also to reply. That was probably because I was a fairly introspective teenager, so if someone actually did converse with me and I listened to him or her, I felt bound to give some sort of reply. To not do so would have seemed impolite or even ignorant. As I've gotten older, I've had no problem joining or initiating conversations with others, thanks to the work world, so that the give and take between us has led to some really good and interesting conversations that have enriched my mind and soul. I've listened to understand what people were trying to impart to me, and I've replied as was warranted. You figure that out as you go along and it mostly works out. Learning how to listen well is an art, likewise learning how and when to reply. It takes a lifetime to hone those skills.
We live in a society that values the snappy reply, the quick reply, the sarcastic retort--funny funny ha ha. Sometimes it can be funny to a certain point. But past that point, the snappy replies and sarcastic retorts destroy conversations and listening skills, because while we should be listening, we are thinking up a snappy reply and how to be funny. We don't take what the other person is saying, seriously. And we should. Because if someone really does want to talk seriously with us, we owe it to that person to at least try to be a good listener. Being a good listener is not as valued as being a quick replier. And that shoves most conversations to the surface, where they stay because there is no willingness to go deeper than superficial. Good conversations require the willingness to be patient, to spend time with another person, to be ok with occasional silence (or sometimes tears). It means trying to be empathetic and kind, as well as pragmatic and proactive when necessary. You figure it with the person you are conversing with, but you can't figure it out without time and the willingness to give that person some of your time.
In my workplace, I have listened to many people over the years who have knocked on my door and asked if I have a few minutes to spare. Those minutes sometimes became an hour. Most of the time they came into my office, closed the door, and shared something with me that was confidential and serious. They did so because they knew they could trust me not to gossip or spread stories. I never abused that trust. Likewise, I've also shared confidential information with some few people and I could trust that they would keep it that way. We listened to each other and helped each other by trying to understand difficult work situations, problematic life situations--all those things. We offered a shoulder to lean on or to cry on. Life moved us on, problems ceased, work situations changed--nothing remained the same. But sometimes it was good to talk about those things, to get it out in the open, to face the fears and move on. Feeling understood by another is not to be underestimated. It gives us self-confidence and the motivation to continue to deal with life.
Those who do not listen well to others have specific character traits and ways of conversing that identify them as bad listeners. They rarely ask questions of those they talk to, they are not interested in learning about the lives of others. They are mostly interested in talking about themselves and their lives. They often interrupt others when they are talking. They destroy the flow of conversations. They are dismissive of the problems and pain of others. In short, they are not very empathetic people. We all know people like this. They have shown me that in order to be a good listener, you need to have empathy for others, you need to want to try to understand what others are saying to you, and you need to give of your time. You must be willing to set aside your own ego in order to be there for others. Good friends do this all the time. They are the true blessings in this life.
I’ve been thinking about how we freely change our lives, and how sometimes life forces us to change. The two are often intertwined. I’ve always been of the opinion that it’s best to make necessary changes freely, rather than be forced to make them. But not all people would agree on that. Sometimes people wait too long to make changes they should have made years previously. It’s hard to say why they waited; fear perhaps, or inertia—just going along with the flow. Sometimes people need to be told when to make a change, and for many, that’s just fine. They’re not so concerned with the why. They end up not having to deal with the angst and indecision that can accompany working toward making necessary changes freely, because angst and indecision are part of that scenario. I’ve known several people who were forced to make changes they didn’t want to make, and they were resentful about it. It would have been better to have suffered through the angst and indecision of working toward making the changes freely. But they were not those types of people. They survived the changes, but the resentment lingered. My point is that if you freely choose change, you will not resent having to make the change. You may regret the change somewhere down the road, but you won’t have resentment.
I moved to
Norway over thirty years ago and changed my life dramatically. I planned the
move well, so that when I arrived here, I had a job waiting for me. That was the most important factor for my
relocating to Norway, having a job that was compatible with my science background.
Looking back on that time, I remember the thoughts and feelings involved. Was I
making the right decision? Would I be able to find a job compatible with my expertise?
Would I be able to tackle a new country, culture, and language? Would I be able
to travel back to NY often to visit family and friends? Would I be too
dependent on my future husband for all my social interactions? And so on. I did
not move to Norway for political refuge; I moved here so that my husband and I
could have the opportunity to develop a long-term relationship with both of us
in one place. A long-distance relationship where both parties are separated by
an ocean is not an optimal experience after a while. My choice to move here
made things easier for my husband, and since I did not have children, I could prioritize my husband’s
priorities. I don’t regret that at all. But now that I have chosen to retire
early, I want to prioritize other things, among them being able to travel to NY
more frequently in order to spend time with my close friends. Life is short and
we don’t have enough time to do all the things we might want to do anyway, so
it’s best to prioritize as best we can and live accordingly. We cannot predict
the future, nor how long our lives will be. A number of co-workers have asked
me why I am retiring early, and some have wondered if I regret my decision
(already?). I give them the reasons above and state unequivocally that I do not
regret making the decision. I’ve had ample time since I gave notice to ‘feel my
way’ forward, and it feels fine. I move into the unknown, but it’s ok. The
unknown is a part of life. Sometimes you need to hop out into it, and see what
happens. Retirement to me is simply a new phase of my life. I look forward to
exploring it.
My favorite line--the friends who didn't make life a competition, but rather a grand adventure that became better together. I'm so grateful for my closest friends, because we have shared some wonderful adventures together, and have not wasted our lives competing with each other. We care about each other and love each other, and always have each other's backs. I consider myself blessed to have such friends in my life.
I read many of his books when I was in my twenties and can recommend them (the last two are science fiction):
He is a spiritual writer without necessarily identifying with any one religion, which I like. He chronicled his 'conversion' from atheism to Christianity in Surprised by Joy and Mere Christianity. Whatever I write about his books here cannot do them justice. Each book he wrote is its own treasure and there is much to discover in each of them. They will change your life it you let them.
I leave you with this quote that I found online today. Typical Lewis--he makes you think. Plato thought in much the same way--that all things exist as 'Forms' in an abstract state. In the case of human beings, they acquire a body at birth. I don't pretend to understand his philosophy, but I find it fascinating.
We did mini-vacations in Norway this summer, much like last summer. The pandemic curtailed plans to travel abroad for many people, at least up until mid-July when the quarantine rules for those returning to Norway from trips abroad were relaxed. Until that point, returnees were forced to quarantine at quarantine hotels for ten days, regardless of vaccination status, which was not appealing.
We decided to check out the classic/historical hotels here in Norway, within a decent driving distance of Oslo. Hotel Refsnes Gods is one of the classic hotels: Hotell Refsnes Gods by Classic Norway Hotels | Moss | Norway - Classic Norway It is about an hour's drive from Oslo, on an island called Jeløy in the Oslo fjord near the city of Moss. It is a beautiful island and an even more beautiful old hotel. We spent a weekend there; it was actually a delayed 30th wedding anniversary celebration, because our anniversary is in May, but the hotel was closed due to the major lockdown that Norway experienced from February until June. We had lovely warm weather that weekend, so we walked around the area near the hotel, and went down to the fjord. Whenever I visit these old hotels, I always wonder what it would have been like to have experienced being there a hundred or more years ago, when modern technology as we know it did not exist. I'm glad that these old hotels have been restored and that they are open to the public to enjoy. Refsnes Gods is well-worth visiting, both for the ambience and the food (the restaurant dinner was very good).
Another hotel that we recently visited was the historical Hoel Gård on the Nes peninsula in Hedmark, on the banks of Lake Mjøsa: Hoel Gård at Nes - Historic hotels in Norway (dehistoriske.com). We can highly recommend this beautiful hotel for its lovely buildings, beautiful surroundings, very good food and very good service; it has been described as a 'pearl on Lake Mjøsa' located in 'Norway's Tuscany'. The estate on which it is located is lovely; large areas of it are utilized as a farm with its own production of chicken, grains, and potatoes, so that the restaurant at the hotel can truthfully boast that is is 'farm to table' since the produce is used in the restaurant. The grounds as I said are well-kept and lovely, with small flower gardens here and there. Again we had very nice weather for the days that we spent there. We stayed two nights in the 'Lukk Døren' ('close the door') room at the manor house, and one night in a charming little pavilion (summer house) called the 'bridal suite'. There were no televisions in any of the guest rooms, and that added to the feeling of being away from it all--a welcome feeling. There was a road leading down to the lake that was lined with trees on both sides, which bent over toward each other at the tops, forming an arbour of sorts. We walked down that road several times, joined by a pair of cute sparrow-like birds (lark sparrows?) that hopped in front of us as we walked, totally unafraid and very curious. Otherwise, outside the bridal suite were many wagtails; if you've never seen them strut about, you're in for a treat--they're very cute.
Lake Mjøsa is Norway's largest lake, and as luck would have it, there is an old paddle steamship called Skibladner that makes regular tours back and forth between Gjøvik and Lillehammer, with stops at Brumunddal, Hamar and also at Nes (Hoel Gård--but only on Sundays). This info is from the Skibladner website (Velkommen til Skibladner -- verdens eldste hjuldamper i drift):
'The world's oldest preserved paddle steamer in timetabled service, with live steam engines, paddle wheels and a speed of 12 knots. Skibladner is the pride of Norway's inland, and one of Norway's best-loved tourist attractions'.
We were at the hotel from Monday to Thursday, so we did not experience watching the ship dock at the hotel's large pier. But we did experience eating lunch onboard in the ship's restaurant--good food and a pleasant atmosphere. Just being on the boat was enough for me; I love traveling on these old-time ships.
Here are some photos of the hotels and of Skibladner. Enjoy!
Refsnes Gods hotel |
the Oslo fjord |
sunset viewed from our Refsnes Gods hotel room patio looking out over the grounds and the fjord |
the manor house at Hoel GÃ¥rd |
restaurant seating outdoors at Hoel GÃ¥rd on a lovely summer night |
tree-lined road leading down to Lake Mjøsa and the pier/beach |
the bridal suite at Hoel GÃ¥rd |
at the pier and beach with views of the porters' houses at Hoel GÃ¥rd that can be rented |
view of the manor house from the bridal suite |
beautiful Lake Mjøsa |
Skibladner |
I saw the movie The Holiday again recently, and one of the main characters had this song as his cell phone ringtone. I grew up with this mu...