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First Person2 Inches Tall
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Raise your hand if you think your dissertation adviser is crazy. I don't mean the good kind of crazy (passionate, endearingly eccentric, and wildly creative). I mean the bad but not quite pathological kind (disorganized, overcommitted, and opinionated). I think I just felt the breeze from hundreds of hands shooting into the air. As a postdoc on the market in the biological sciences, I can speak in detail only about my own dissertation adviser, hereafter known as Professor McLoopy. But I have been amazed by how many stories of advisorial weirdness I have heard over the years. My big concern is how my dissertation adviser's craziness, or at least my perception of it, will affect my job search. I am worried on two fronts. One is the speed at which Professor McLoopy writes letters of recommendation. I have tried several tactics to get the letters written in a timely manner -- long notice, short notice, writing them myself, asking for electronic copies. Nonetheless, the letters have always been either late or delivered at the 11th hour, propelling me into fits of acid reflux and heart-pounding sweats. Such stress-inducing episodes always leave me wondering about my value in Professor McLoopy's eyes. If my main adviser can't take the time to get me a letter when I need it, does that mean I am not worth the time? I know I can get good letters from my current mentor and collaborators at my postdoc, but isn't an application without a reference from the dissertation adviser a red flag? I would hope that prospective employers could read between the lines, but as a little fish in an enormous pond, should I even expect anyone to take the time to read between the lines? I recently applied for a postdoctoral grant that would give me another couple of years to chase down some interesting research questions and to go about the job search with a relaxed mind. This sentence in the grant application stopped me cold: "If not submitting a reference from the dissertation adviser, provide an explanation." Let's see, "Adviser is crazy" doesn't really sound any better than "Since Professor McLoopy can't take the time to write the reference, it is clear that my project is not really worth funding; don't bother reading this." I guess the world is telling me that I should do everything under the sun to get letters of recommendation from my dissertation adviser and acid reflux be damned. I don't need my esophagus for writing papers, anyway. Writing papers. That's my other worry. I've published a few papers out of my dissertation; I'm hovering around the average number for an average student in the sciences. My dissertation, however, was far longer than average in length (another sign of my adviser's craziness). I could easily publish five more papers from it. That means five more instances of dealing with Professor McLoopy and the accompanying stomach aches and teeth grinding. Part of the problem is that I disagree with my adviser's impression of my data. I tend to be a bit conservative, whereas McLoopy likes to scream that the sky is falling and will use every statistical test under the sun to "prove" the point. I don't want to be that kind of scientist. Sure, I have strong opinions regarding my discipline. How could I not after slogging through a doctoral program? But I don't want to be Chicken Little unless my data fairly clearly (and without bizarre statistical back flips) demonstrate that the sky is indeed falling. I worry that if I become the screeching banshee, I will be labeled as an extremist pot-stirrer. I would be comfortable with that label if I had tenure and 100-plus publications to back me up, but at this early point in my career, I don't want to stand out as the lone flag waver. As I struggle with my career path -- government researcher or academic? -- I wonder, Which would be more accepting of the banshee? Which would be more understanding of the loser who didn't finish publishing all the articles she could have from her dissertation? Is one or the other more accepting of good but not outstanding purveyors of the least publishable unit? In my current position at a government research facility, my worth is judged to a great degree by my publication record. Like attaining tenure in academe, securing a promotion within certain government agencies is partially driven by your publication record. And, like professors, government researchers earn respect from peers and are asked to collaborate if they publish solid papers in top-tier journals. Read Science Under Siege by Todd Wilkinson; government scientists who become a little too vociferous in their published opinions end up counting brine shrimp in the hinterlands. But now that I think of it, fewer banshees seem to exist in the academic world nowadays as well. Maybe the model career I have been following in a government facility really isn't all that different from what I have seen in academe. Grant agencies don't want to see their money piddled away on projects that don't support those agencies' overall goals; nor do they often want to see their names associated with scientists on the fringe. Is there really all that big a difference between government and academe? So I am right back to my original question: Will blowing off publishing the remaining papers possible out of my dissertation hurt my future career in government or in academe? Luckily, I am not the only person wallowing in her own acidic juices. At least two postdocs in my current facility share similar problems with their dissertation advisers. We are all wondering, Does it really matter that we haven't published everything from our dissertations? I know I should just suck it up, deal with the stomach aches, put my nose to the grindstone, and finish the papers. Getting those publications out will only benefit me. I'll get the numbers and I'll finally cut those apron strings. In reality, my dissertation adviser is probably not the worst in the history of advisers. I have one friend whose adviser told her that if money was so tight, maybe she should just eat less (my friend is mildly voluptuous). Another friend has had to shuttle her adviser home after faculty parties when he's had too much to drink. Yet another friend had her adviser call her regularly at home -- at nights and on weekends -- to ask if she was working on her dissertation. My adviser makes me feel about two inches tall, but maybe that's just my reaction and not the reality. I certainly can't change McLoopy; I only have power over my own reactions. I guess it's time to start reacting like I want a real job, and to realize that I am the only one limiting my publications. |
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