This article was originally published for Cambio Ltd. on 20-09-2012. Access it here.
Take one reasonably intelligent person. Persuade them to do an
undergraduate degree in a subject they declared as a child to be boring.
On completion let them out into the real world to realise that a job
isn’t much cop, and that their intellect is rotting in an office
environment. Guide them to decide to return to university and spend £6K
on a master’s degree rather than accept a manager’s job paying £30K.
Three months into this course, get them to apply for a PhD in a subject
area loosely connected to their university training. Conspire with fate
for this person to be accepted for both the course, and the funding
grant before they know what’s happened. Stand back.
Whoever decided this little scenario for me, I don’t know if I want
to hurt or hug them. True, I was going stir-crazy working in an office,
but I felt stupid because I was bored rather than because I had to
regularly confess I didn’t understand basic biochemical concepts/ anyone
else’s research project/ my own research project/ what possessed me to
undertake a PhD. Also, my day-to-day tasks generally gave me the outcome
I anticipated rather than a completely different one. When I went to a
meeting I generally spoke to other people about a pre-arranged topic
rather than, for example, turning up to discover that I was actually due
to give a talk to members of the Royal Society on string theory (I know
nothing about string theory). This latter scenario is how scientific
research feels to me.
This week has not gone well. After spending the best part of 6 months
getting my PCRs working reliably, they have now stopped doing what they
should. I put in my standard mixture, and out comes something new and
surprising. Unlike what I read at A-level, my experiments do not
generally work, and they do not give me results that I can easily
interpret. My gels go wobbly. Bands disappear inexplicably. I have to
re-run my samples changing one of my 6 ingredients each time, then alter
the PCR programme, the gel concentration, the voltage I run the gel at.
This easily eats up a week. Then I discover that the PCR machine is
running strangely, that the lids of my tubes are inexplicably popping
open (despite my cramming them on with force not that short of hitting
them with a hammer) – resulting in my samples evaporating. Then I find
that someone used the last of my PCR strips and didn’t re-order any.
With my lack of a biochemical background, I am generally forced to bug
my lab mates for help and advice, or face the disparaging gaze of my
supervisor. I feel stupid about 90% of the time.
Why did nobody warn me about this?!
I recently read a very good article entitled “The importance of
stupidity in scientific research” (accessible here – or Google it) which
was published in The Journal of Cell Science. At the start, the author
describes meeting up with a PhD friend many years later, only to
discover that she didn’t complete her course. Why? Because she was fed
up with feeling stupid all the time. I feel her pain. But this is what
scientific research is all about –after all, the reason you’re doing it
is because no-one knows the answer. I’ve found this especially hard as
I’m a super trendy inter-disciplinary student. So not only do I have the
fun of diving into the unknown, I also have my arms and legs being
pulled in 3 different directions. Deal with that Tom Daley!
But for all of this, there is no way you could drag me back to that
office. My PhD winds me up, it makes me cry, it makes me question my
sanity – and it makes me feel very, very stupid. But there’s a strange
kind of freedom in the challenge, in knowing that realistically there
are very few people who could do what I’m doing. In the end, no-one else
will understand my subject as thoroughly as I do.
It beats working in
an office any day.
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