One of the most difficult aspects of science for me to deal with when I entered graduate school was empiricism. I came to a love of science from the intellectual, not the practical, end. I liked the questions, ideas, and logic. I was under the impression that, because scientific phenomena underlie our whole existence, any sort of practical problem could be solved by application of reason and logic.
I probably spent the first three years of grad school unlearning this idea.
For a long time, the idea that logic would triumph held me captive to massive frustration. It turns out to be, appropriately enough, right in principle but wrong in application.
I spent years kicking tables out of anger at problems like electrical noise in my setup. Now, there are some straightforward rules governing electricity. You learn a number of them, probably all the relevant ones, in college physics if not earlier. You can apply them all in a logical, orderly manner. You can still have inexplicably bad electrical noise.
You can learn some special rules of thumb for the particular configuration you have. Still, electrical noise.
What drove me up a tree was that invariably I'd get advice from a senior student along the lines of, "Well, just try a bunch of things like this and see if it helps." Why? There is no earthly reason that I should have to try random things. I should be able to solve this problem using a multimeter and my brain.
As I say, I wasted a lot of time on frustration before learning that in fact, some problems are best solved empirically, by trying a bunch of stuff and seeing what works. You can reason your way back to an explanation (maybe!), but some problems are more or less intractable without just trying things out, even things that you think shouldn't matter.
I know plenty of good scientists who entered grad school from the opposite pole, that of being do-ers who love nothing more than to plunge in and try stuff, and think about the results later. Those people usually do really well at carrying out experiments, and their challenge is often to make sure those experiments are thoughtfully designed.
If you are headed for or starting graduate school, I'd encourage you to contemplate which of these--thinking or doing--you consider your strength. I certainly knew heading in to grad school that I loved scientific concepts, but struggled with benchwork. If you know which half you find easier, recognize how much you need practice with the other half, and find someone to help you with it. Perhaps you have a fellow labmate who has the skills you lack, or a friend in a neighbor lab. This person's approach to problems may seem totally foreign to you, but that's exactly why you need them.
I was thinking of this today as a colleague and I were troubleshooting a completely bizarre problem with some fancy equipment we both use in his lab. We spent at least half an hour fighting two seriously disconcerting glitches, one of which seemed hardware-related and perhaps unfixable (and which would cast doubt on several published papers that use this hardware), and the other of which seemed software-related but equally unfixable.
Five years ago, I would have given up, or thrown a fit, or called up the company to yell at them, probably uselessly. Instead I suggested we try changing a software parameter that had nothing to do with anything we were having trouble with. Why? Not because I thought it was relevant, but because I have learned respect for empirical outcomes.
Presto. Both glitches cleared up. (Not with the first irrelevant parameter we changed, mind you! More like the 4th.) The other postdoc and I gaped at each other. We tested some more. Solved.
We tried to come up with any possible reason this parameter might have caused these problems. Nothing. But you know what? I don't really care (though I might still go back with some BNCs and an oscilloscope to see if I can figure it out). It's clear that the software has a bizarre bug that causes this inexplicable behavior. And now we know how to steer clear.
This is not to claim that I never get frustrated with inexplicable problems any longer. Ha ha, no. But that graduate school taught me to take seriously the attitude, "Just try it and see what happens."
15 years ago
10 comments:
Looking back on grad school, it's amazing that I ever eventually got any results. I feel like I spent 4 years figuring out how to get things done, and 1 year collecting good data. Randomly trying shit was the only way I ever got stuff to work. I used to tell people that I try things 7 times, 7 different ways before I give up. They thought I was nuts.
Good point DrJMrsH, and I totally agree (though I'm not sure I could have articulated it as you have- rather it was just an inchoate feeling that always stuck with me).
I'm a total doer, and have been lucky that most of the labs I've worked in tend to follow this approach. Finding projects has usually been, "Here's a cool topic, let's start doing experiments and see what happens."
It suits me fine, because what strengths I have in the lab are by no means theoretical. Instead, I'm good at looking closely at the data, noticing something weird, and then figuring out what's going on.
i seem to straddle the line, there's a bunch of really quick thoughts about design but mostly a jump in just do it attitude. interestingly, neither seem better or worse for warding off the bad experiment gremlin (in case you're wondering, he currently resides on my bench!)... also, i linked to this post.
Useful post. I saved it for my students.
You know, Nat, when it comes to deciding *what* experiments to do I'm a bit of a do-er also--my rationale tends to run, "Hey, nobody's done this before! Let's try it!" But in terms of what I like to do best in lab, I tilt more analysis/writing than fiddling/tweaking...Which is great, once you have data. Up til then though....
This post makes me feel better about myself as a researcher, even if I'm still unsure of whether it's what I'm "supposed" to be doing or even how much longer I will be doing it. I am definitely neither of the two categories you describe.
I think, I try, and I try not to rule anything out to the point where I convince myself it's not worth trying even if I can't think of a reason why it should matter. I have always been both a thinking-planner and an empiricist. It's a happy dance we do between the two, and that's one of the things I love about science.
Having said that, I've definitely worked with students who insisted upon the "but that shouldn't matter!" way of thinking until I showed them otherwise and taught them how to find the explanation later (and yes, you usually can, especially if it's something in the macro world).
You have to get used to living with some amount of uncertainty if you're going to do research. Some people never get over that.
I'm also surrounded by people who "just try stuff" without really considering whether that stuff will end up being interpretable or publishable (ahem, my advisor is one of them).
Anyway, it sounds like you've figured out how research works. And for that, I send you this virtual pat on the back! Way to go! Keep up the good work!
Ah, story of my experimental life. Good post.
Personally, I feel like I'm still not great about trying stuff if I can't imagine how it could affect my problem. But, I've gotten much more creative and hand-wavey in thinking about how different things could be affecting other things. I guess the end result is the same, in that now I'll try things I never would have tried before.
The advantage of understanding why a not-logical fix worked is that it might suggest that the cause is creating other problems you haven't discovered yet.
Finding projects has usually been, "Here's a cool topic, let's start doing experiments and see what happens."
This is how my lab generally operates.
Great blog! The insights you reveal on “thinking vs. doing” would be very helpful to any aspiring scientist. I think you should take a look at a new documentary film I’ve seen, Naturally Obsessed: the making of a scientist, that explores the ups and downs of life as a researcher in a molecular biology lab. The filmmakers explicit goal is to make science more transparent and build deeper public appreciation for the doing of science—the questions raised, and thoughtful COUNTLESS experiments scientists pursue to answer them. The film has been met with such positive feedback from graduate students, their professors and many others in the science community. Empathy has grabbed these audiences--Empathy for the gamble of science; empathy for how one learns to deal with failure; empathy for the total commitment that science demands. You can visit www.naturallyobsessed.com/blog to learn more about the film and check out their blog.
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