Life of a Lab Rat

Last week, I asked a PhD candidate in our lab whether she'd got a date for her thesis defence. 'My what?' she asked. We looked at each other in mutual incomprehension before light dawned.

It turns out that there is no viva voce requirement for an Australian PhD.

I was shocked and stunned, and not to say a little amazed. No thesis defence? And no auditing of examiners. Well, well. Just how much do you think that little book is worth, then?

Today I read that there are calls to reinstate the viva voce, which raised a little cheer from me. But the whinging has started already:

Nigel Palmer, president of the Council of Australian Postgraduate Associations, said: "Students are always going to be cautious about anything that looks like a viva.

"Particularly towards the end of their candidature, PhDs are close to exhaustion. It's a very daunting proposition to come out and give a stunning presentation. Also, (a viva) disadvantages international students."

Poor wee grad students! Heaven forbid that an Australian PhD candidate should be daunted by anything. Won't somebody please think of the children?

In civilized countries it is not enough to be able to write something; you are called upon to answer criticism of your work and defend your conclusions, to be able to prove that you can contextualize and think independently, and — importantly — recognize when you've got something wrong and be able to reassess, to think on your feet. It's a public exam — and in some countries the defence really is public, the people who paid for your studentship can verify that you were worth it. International students are no more disadvantaged by a viva than they are when it comes to reading the literature (and writing the damned thesis in the first place). Someone who can not give a talk in the language of the country they do the lab work (I'm ignoring humanities/arts. Sticking to what I know) has a more fundamental problem than being able to defend a thesis. The argument about external examiners does not even get off the ground. Additionally, if someone can not complete a (non-coursework) PhD in three to four years, then serious questions about their ability, and that of their supervisor, need to be asked.

Look, a PhD is not about doing great science. It is about teaching you how to think like a scientist. That's why it is possible to fit it into three years. No one seriously expects a PhD to be your "life's work", or a new PhD to have a great publication record. We know the pressures of a PhD and we're looking to see if you have the nouse and the gumption and the sheer bloodymindedness to cope with real research. You do not actually start to be a scientist until you begin your first post-doc, when you will be expected to think for yourself and not have your hand held all the time, and cope with serious deadlines. In the real world, people are not going to wait for you not to be exhausted and daunted before doing something. And guess what boys and girls? Part of the training is to be able to give a full seminar, not just answer questions about your work.

And yes, a PhD is bloody hard work; exhausting and daunting. That is precisely why they are so valued.

Ian seems to be having his midlife crisis a little early.

Being visited by my ex-boss brought similar questions in my mind to a focus a couple of weeks ago. I too have had an 'eclectic' career — not that it's bad, just unconventional. Being the eternal postdoc might be fun, but it's unsupportable for much longer. I need to be finding a real job, with some degree of security, whether in academic science or out of it. That thought does exercise me somewhat.

And by making that thought public I might be breaking ranks with the essence of postdoc-hood. Ian raises questions that we all should be facing, yet there seems to be very little discussion of them. The unspoken rule is that you get your PhD, you publish lots during one or two postdoc positions, and you get tenure. That's the career track for this trade, and many people, good people are failing to achieve this.

Lots of people go into publishing or pharma or whatever, but the feeling from this side of the fence is that they have somehow failed. That is patently unfair. But for a postdoc to admit that s/he is not happy with science, is seriously considering a change , is seen as an admission of failure (if this happens after a reasonably successful career to date — it's expected that a newly-minted PhD will go through this).

Add to this the shark-like instincts of the turbo-nutter gunners to sense weakness and to hunt and destroy anyone going through a 'difficult' patch and it would not surprise me if there are a lot of scientists out there wondering just what the hell they are doing, and not being able to talk to anyone.

The old joke (via Alex) about the doctoral rabbit sums up what I was whinging about very well.

It is quite easy in this business to get disillusioned when you look around and see that, for example, the NIH only funds about 10% of RO1 grants and there is no career structure to speak of for postdocs. You begin to wonder if you are any good at all, especially when you reach a certain age and find that you are really enjoying the bench work but seem to have no luck at finding a real job.

I heard on the radio a couple of minutes ago that Australia faces a severe scientist drought.

Julie Bishop is saying that Australia will be short of about 15,000 science and engineering professionals in six years' time. Tellingly, she has implied that the current (University, I presume) courses and career paths are not good enough. This in itself is progress, I feel; but although the government has admitted there is a problem, we have to ask what are they going to do about it?

The pledge of an extra 50 positions at CSIRO is a small step in the right direction, but there has to be a major rethink in the way science is supported if a real difference is to be made.

This is a 'bookmark' post really. It's part of the reason I wanted to do this weblog, to discuss the serious issues facing scientists with family in the 21st Century. Gosh that sounds pompous, never mind. Point is that I want to flag this as an issue, but don't have time right now to go into it further.

I occasionally read the fora at the Science Advisory Board and these comments caught my eye:

I'm sorry, but if you're not enjoying your work you're in the wrong job.
And yes, I have a wife and two children.

agreed, same here got 2 children as well. The salary is crap so if one does not enjoy doing science I wonder what is the reason to put up with a crap salary and odd working hours.

So, why do we what we do so well?