Final Count
Pending revisions, the final Thesis Progress Graph:
I thought the trajectory was such that I'd hit 25,000 words with a rather verbose Discussion section, but it was not to be. As theses go, I feel a little self-disgust that this one's a little on the shorter side. Even with references, the volume only comes out to 118 pages. My committee chair mentioned that I also needed to throw in my curriculum vitae. Whoopee! That brings the page total to a WHOPPING 120 pages.
Even though my experience in research (as an undergraduate, a technician, and a graduate student) says otherwise, it's hard to escape the thinking that correlates the quality of one's research career by the quantity of data generated. We're so hung up on quantity these days. More words, more figures, more publications, more grant money equals bigger, badder, and better.
Yet, most people that I know in science understand that research isn't so simple. Experiments fail for any number of reasons: equipment failure, bad reagents, difficult/poor project, bad luck, wrong electron spin. Grad students can go months, perhaps more, generating piles of 'negative data.' Negative data is important, no doubt, but it's kind of like proving the sky isn't chartreuse. It doesn't necessarily move the project forward and gives answers no one really cares about. I knew one graduate student who spent years obtaining negative data on a number of research projects. Despite her lack of success, you couldn't find anyone who would claim that she wasn't a competent scientist. In fact, her committee finally let her go, realizing that she really had nothing more to prove.
I've spent five years in graduate school so far. The first two-and-a-half years I spent with an advisor that couldn't care less about my training. What data I generated with him didn't carry over into my new lab with Barb. What to do? Start from scratch? Generate a quantity of data on the new project that will satisfy even the most hardened critics? More data more time more years trying to prove my worth in science to these people? No, I don't think so. Anyway, my approach to things is that "it" is more about the journey than the destination, and I concluded quite a while ago that staying in graduate school wasn't going to make me any better as a scientist. If science is in my future (which it isn't), there will be other opportunities to continue growth in that area.
Yet I can't shake this feeling of inferiority with the volume of data I've generated. When I took the thesis drafts around to my committee last week, a younger graduate student, "Jess", scoffed at the fact that all five copies fit into one box. As if I should need a truck to deliver these things. Yes, I'm positive "Jess" is the next generation of academic scientist, beating down her own graduate students and lab personnel, sometime in the near future. Whatever. Whatever helps "Jess" sleep at night, she can believe what she wants. She and her ilk are just another reason why I won't be anywhere near academia if I can help it.
So what? I won't be remembered as a Graduate Student All-Star. I'll let people like "Jess" claim that accolade. I'll leave it to someone else to tell her that's almost like winning "Jagoff of the Year", only less prestigious.
What I'm listening to right now: "Alive and Kicking", Simple Minds
I thought the trajectory was such that I'd hit 25,000 words with a rather verbose Discussion section, but it was not to be. As theses go, I feel a little self-disgust that this one's a little on the shorter side. Even with references, the volume only comes out to 118 pages. My committee chair mentioned that I also needed to throw in my curriculum vitae. Whoopee! That brings the page total to a WHOPPING 120 pages.
Even though my experience in research (as an undergraduate, a technician, and a graduate student) says otherwise, it's hard to escape the thinking that correlates the quality of one's research career by the quantity of data generated. We're so hung up on quantity these days. More words, more figures, more publications, more grant money equals bigger, badder, and better.
Yet, most people that I know in science understand that research isn't so simple. Experiments fail for any number of reasons: equipment failure, bad reagents, difficult/poor project, bad luck, wrong electron spin. Grad students can go months, perhaps more, generating piles of 'negative data.' Negative data is important, no doubt, but it's kind of like proving the sky isn't chartreuse. It doesn't necessarily move the project forward and gives answers no one really cares about. I knew one graduate student who spent years obtaining negative data on a number of research projects. Despite her lack of success, you couldn't find anyone who would claim that she wasn't a competent scientist. In fact, her committee finally let her go, realizing that she really had nothing more to prove.
I've spent five years in graduate school so far. The first two-and-a-half years I spent with an advisor that couldn't care less about my training. What data I generated with him didn't carry over into my new lab with Barb. What to do? Start from scratch? Generate a quantity of data on the new project that will satisfy even the most hardened critics? More data more time more years trying to prove my worth in science to these people? No, I don't think so. Anyway, my approach to things is that "it" is more about the journey than the destination, and I concluded quite a while ago that staying in graduate school wasn't going to make me any better as a scientist. If science is in my future (which it isn't), there will be other opportunities to continue growth in that area.
Yet I can't shake this feeling of inferiority with the volume of data I've generated. When I took the thesis drafts around to my committee last week, a younger graduate student, "Jess", scoffed at the fact that all five copies fit into one box. As if I should need a truck to deliver these things. Yes, I'm positive "Jess" is the next generation of academic scientist, beating down her own graduate students and lab personnel, sometime in the near future. Whatever. Whatever helps "Jess" sleep at night, she can believe what she wants. She and her ilk are just another reason why I won't be anywhere near academia if I can help it.
So what? I won't be remembered as a Graduate Student All-Star. I'll let people like "Jess" claim that accolade. I'll leave it to someone else to tell her that's almost like winning "Jagoff of the Year", only less prestigious.
*******
What I'm listening to right now: "Alive and Kicking", Simple Minds
posted by Mikey at 5:25 PM
8 Comments:
Ah Mike,
Jess is younger, or just has fewer years in the program?
The current generation of academic scientist has reading your thesis on their "to do, but I don't wanna do it" list, and it is their opinion that counts, not that of Jess, no matter how important she likes to believe she is.
Your committee members would probably rather read something short and to the point. The simple fact that they have agreed to give you a defense date indicates that they think you can pass it.
Ditch this inferiority thing.
(they can smell fear)
That PhD behind you will help you place for residency better later, so yes, it is good for something. You might think you don't have a tangible truckload of data, but surely you've learned quite a lot - not what you thought you were signed up for, but still, you might want to think back to when you started all this and tap into that enthusiasm.
You're nearly over the finish line.
What is inferior about that?
I guess I don't have an inferiority complex about the issue (at least, not a complex brought on by grad school, anyway). It's more that I'm intrigued by the level of smugness exhibited by "Jess", a level of smugness that I've never had where graduate school was concerned.
Yes, "Jess" is younger and has only been in the program a couple years.
The way I see it, "Jess's" graduate career will take one of two paths:
1. Everything will work out for "Jess", she'll be a Graduate School SuperStar, and she'll carry that success and smugness into her career as "Professor Jess", the bane of all her graduate students.
2. "Jess's" graduate career will be a more humbling experience, her big fish-in-a-small pond smugness will be trashed, and she'll be begging to get out of graduate school like the rest of us.
But you're right, being finished will feel amazing.
Thanks for being the Voice of Reason. Again.
Thanks for your nice comment back on my page. I erased it though, since my page is rather public - I've been giving out the url to anyone who's asked to see the vacation photos.
-Lia.
...
Just because it's likely that "Jess" will at some point get the rug pulled out from under her doesn't mean you shouldn't kick her rude little eczemous ass now.
-The Voice of Reason
Just because it's likely that "Jess" will at some point get the rug pulled out from under her doesn't mean you shouldn't kick her rude little eczemous ass now.
Heh. She's a curiosity at best. I certainly don't feel the need to kick her "rude little eczemous ass" nor do I have the desire to follow its fate. Soon, I won't have the time, anyway.
Yo Mike,
I'm very intrigued. Please email me the identity of "Jess", I have a feeling I know who "Jess" is, but I'd like you to confirm that for me. Of course, "Jess" could be any number of young grad students we know.
-The jerk who has to miss your thesis defence..........
Well, "Anonymous",
E-mailing you the identity of "Jess" may prove difficult for the following reasons:
1. Perhaps revealing "Jess's" true identity may violate some ethical code that I may or may not follow. I put quotes around the name for a reason.
2. You posting anonymously really makes it kind of a guess as to who you are. You're not the only "jerk who has to miss [my] thesis defence (sic)...."
I'll take it under consideration :)
Don't worry about the slim thesis, Mike. You know, as the Bard wrote, "Brevity is the soul of wit." (Polonius, in Hamlet, act 2, sc. 2, l. 90)
Well, that's nice. Except - while my thesis is definitely brief, it's not supposed to be funny.
Post a Comment
<< Home