As a postdoctoral research associate in the life sciences, I am in an enviable position. I work in an amazing laboratory where I am revising papers that will garner me secondary authorships within months of starting. My supervisor is in a cutting-edge field, and the experience I gain working with him, combined with the skills from my Ph.D., will open doors.
And yet I sit here contemplating walking out of academe and into patent law. That's right, patent law -- as in three more years of school, as in no more research.
I find myself inundated by second thoughts as I prepare to go on the job market. In writing about my search, I hope to explain my career angst without sounding self-pitying. I know how fortunate I have been up to this point, and I am grateful for the freedom I have found in academe. But, like many Ph.D.'s, I am confused and feeling a bit lost in that window between graduate school and permanence.
Career indecision has plagued me off and on since the first moments of graduate school. But it wasn't until recently that I realized I was bored, unhappy, and scared to death about many aspects of academic life. The prospect of spending my life in a continual quest for grant money leaves me cold. But perhaps my worst realization? I despise teaching.
Boredom I can handle. Anyone who has ever worked in a laboratory knows that the vast majority of science is tedious. Boredom is the obstacle you must overcome to get to the fun stuff, and doing so takes nothing more than determination and sheer stubbornness.
More difficult to ignore is my unhappiness. Where does it come from and how can I get rid of it, short of Prozac? I have no way to answer that right now. Throughout graduate school, any time I was unhappy with my career, I explained it away as adviser problems, research obstacles, lack of playtime.
Because science still held so much interest for me, I kept coming up with excuses instead of dealing with the root cause. I convinced myself that I was stressed out because of tainted data that had to be redone, or the absence of real vacations (Christmas with the family didn't count; that just made me really want to get back to the lab). So perhaps my unhappiness during graduate school was a prelude to the deep-seated feelings arising now.
Then there are all the downsides to a career in academic science. Given my feelings about teaching, my career goal in academe is a tenure-track position at a research university. While working at a government lab would solve many of my problems (more stability in research funds, no teaching), there are few government positions for which I am qualified and fewer still that interest me.
So, assuming I am able to get a position at a research university, I get to worry about grant money -- which has me freaking out at night: bad dreams, panic attacks, insomnia that can last days, the works. I know how expensive research can be, and I have watched the acceptance rate of grant proposals dwindle because of budget cuts. In one program I know of, only one proposal out of 350 was supported last year.
Then comes the bugaboo of all bugaboos. I cannot get around my reaction to teaching. For years, I had been saying that teaching was like having children. I might not like other people's children, but things would be different when they were my own.
Then I taught my own class. Not as a teaching assistant and not a seminar, but a real class. Not only did I dislike it, but I spent the semester at high levels of irritation and dread. I dreaded having to write lectures or find new ways to present material. I was irritated when students turned in homework that made clear they had not bothered to read the material. And their continual e-mail messages -- "did we do anything important on such-and-such a date? I was sick that day" or "why didn't I get credit for X? I worked so hard" -- left me drained and angry.
Then there were the students' constant complaints: "I don't like the book." (Who cares?) "There's too much writing." "There's not enough direction." (That from a student who rarely showed up for class.)
I know every professor gets such comments and questions, but I wasn't prepared for the sheer number of them -- or for my own extreme irritation.
I'm not whining here. I am facing the realization that I do not have the personality for teaching. Instead of wanting to help and nurture students, I want to kick the little buggers into the deep end and see who bobs up. My personality, which tends toward the aloof, will never please students or their parents. If I stay in academe, teaching will always be the part of the job that I find least pleasant.
Before any one slings the "but you get paid to teach" retort, let me respond: I don't get paid to like it. So I will do the best I can, but do not expect me to embrace teaching as a calling.
Which brings me back to patent law. I read an article a few years back about Ph.D.'s in sciences who had gone to law school. At the time, law firms were hiring Ph.D.'s and training them to take the patent bar exam, and some firms were even paying Ph.D.'s to go to law school.
After some research, I have realized that the job market for Ph.D.-holding patent lawyers is no longer quite so hot. I will need to take the patent bar exam on my own to be taken seriously. But lawyers I have talked with tell me that, once out of law school, as a Ph.D. and a lawyer, I am guaranteed job offers.
With patent law, I would be able to be paid to read about science. And the law represents a profession built on logic and reason. For a person like myself, it represents a way to integrate my organizational skills, my detail-oriented thought processes, and my need for Prada all in one neat package.
That last element, though a slight attempt at humor, illustrates another major incentive. I'm in my late 30s, with school loans and very little in the way of retirement savings. Within two to four years of graduating from law school, a patent lawyer at a decent-sized firm makes twice what a full professor earns.
So here I am. Do I look for an academic position and hope that I will overcome my fears about the grant process and my antipathy for teaching? Do I start looking seriously at law school or patent-agent jobs?
No matter what, I am on the job market, so for now I wear many hats. I am trying to be the perfect postdoc, publishing and applying for grants, all while searching for academic jobs. And in the darkest dungeon that is my home office, I am preparing for the patent bar exam (which, if I pass, would allow me to work as a patent agent), studying for the LSAT, speaking to lawyers in the area, and having lunch with the dean of the law school. Over the next year, I will be keeping all of those balls in the air.
