I thought there was some merit in these pictures of how people in science see each other. It especially made me laugh how the different groups are portrayed as seeing themselves!

When you are doing your doctorate (but this applies to any research project, I believe!), it can be hard to
 keep a sense of perspective as shown in The Illustrated Guide to a Ph.D. by Matt Might.

Slightly less directly relevant, but the process it takes you through does highlight what a difference a smallish change (and some lateral thinking or trial and error) can make to the clarity of a visual: the crayola rainbow

I'm afraid there is even less justification for this one, but I love it and thought I'd share it with you: A photograph that looks like a painting.

enjoy

Its a well known problem in the academic world that during ones postdoctoral years, often a move to a new city or even country is required every 2-3 years to stay in employment.

In my line of work I often have meetings virtually - that is to say using commercial technologies such as Skype or EVO to discuss research with colleaugues I collaborate with scattere around many universities in different countries. This got me thinking - just how neccessary is it to be at the institution nowadays for research only staff? I could imagine people staying in one place and hiring themselves out to different universities to work remotely.

Of course this could not work in all fields - in the case of lab based research you need to be in the lab. In my field of particle physics, where we work on experiements located in other countries we do even have research staff permanently based there maintain aspects of these epxeriments. These people are in fact already doing what I suggest, albeit working at a lab with many others in the same field.

For me who uses computers, accessible remotely which I frequently do when working out of hours, I think this might even be a feasible way to work. Of course I can see the downsides - even if you don't need to be in a lab, that interaction where you can just nip in someones office and throw around an idea would be lost. I'm not entirely convinced losing that would not really hinder my research. I also know from experience that things one could sort out in 5 minutes in person can take hours of ping-pong emails, which is even worse if you are in a very different time zone to the person so the working days barely coincide.

Perhaps some people would be prepared to put up with that to stay in one place though or if they wanted to live way out in the countryside. I'm not sure I would, but maybe other people would love the idea of working like this. I wonder if people arleady do work like this?

What do you think?

Tennie has recently been singing the scientific praises of apples to anyone who’ll listen. In this post I want to share my excitement about a different kind of Apple: my iPhone. Because while we’ve talked about the usefulness of tablet computers in research before, it turns out that – if you’re a social scientist who does fieldwork – a smartphone is the real essential.

Consider this: with a smartphone, you can take photos of your field site. You can take fieldnotes – on a tiny, clumsy keyboard, admittedly, but in enough detail that you can expand on them later (and in a form that you can readily get onto your laptop). You can scan informants’ business cards, and text your research partner to find out why they’re late. And – and this is the real revelation for me – you can record interviews to a quality that turns out to be higher than the specialist Olympus digital recorder your department provides. And you can all do this unobtrusively, because (if your research is in North America, at least) you’re doing it on a device that all your informants own and are also constantly fiddling with.

I’m just entering a period of field research, and these things have blown me away. I recently ran an interview in a noisy pub, on a Friday night: I could barely hear my interviewee’s responses, and I’d assumed that the recording would be a write-off. Oh no. Their voice comes across with crystal clear clarity – good news both for the research and whichever luckless soul does the transcription. Similarly, I took at a tour at a fieldsite and wanted some way to note down interesting words and phrases. With my phone in my back pocket, there was no need to mess around with a notepad (inevitably, I can never find my pen).

As I say, this has been a revelation to me, and I’m a complete convert: I now think every ethnographer should be issued with an iPhone (or similar). But is this old hat to other social scientists? Or even anathema?

So you want to be in...medical communications

The event will be attended by a number of medical communications organisations so this is a good chance to meet people from the industry as well as learn about career opportunities.

And talking of career opportunities, this came into my email inbox and I thought some of you might be interested. Work experience opportunities like this one below won't suit everyone and in this case also note you need to be Oxford-based for the time period, but opportunities like this are highly unusual in MedComms and will give you some fabulous experience if you can take advantage of it.

___________________________________________________________________

Communigen is a medical communications company based on the Oxford Science Park. We are looking for an individual to undertake a short-term contract in the office as an Editorial Assistant during March and April. The role will primarily be within the field of epidemiology and tropical medicine/infectious diseases, and will involve assisting our Medical Writers and the Editorial Director with online searching of the medical literature and scientific databases, extracting and synthesising information and data, organising and managing associated references and communications, and liaising with our Medical Writers who will prepare a report of the findings. Additional duties may include updating internal databases, liaising with external personnel (e.g. journal editorial offices) and other editorial assistance, as required.

Depending on which campaign you subscribe to, Academic Freedom Day is either February 1^st (to commemorate the publication of JS Mill’s On Liberty), February 12^th (Darwin’s birthday) or 5^th October (UNESCO World Teacher’s Day). With two of these dates looming, there were several news bulletins that caught my eye last week.

In Britain, the Telegraph reported rumours this week that the Government may be about to kick the Higher Education Bill into the long grass. (After all that fuss!) News which was greated with delight by university mission group Million+ (but others like the Russell Group were noticeably silent) and by the University and College Union. Focusing on the controversial proposal to make it easier to set up private universities, their General Secretary said: “The government should be applauded to appearing to listen to the experts in the case. We will continue to expose the dangers of allowing those whose first priority is to their shareholders a greater hold on our higher education system.”

Meanwhile in France, the campaign group Sauvons la recherche was disappointed by the unveiling of Socialist Presidential candidate François Hollande’s mainfesto, partly because he was cautious about funding for higher education and research, but especially because he did not pledge to overturn the hated Law on University Autonomy and Responsibilities (Loi LRU), or to abolish the system of research evaluation and competitive grant-based funding they claim have undermined the status and autonomy of French research and researchers since 2004.

In the Czech Republic, the mood was hotter still, with the Government’s higher education reform plans achieving the rare feat of uniting university leaders, lecturers, researchers and students in opposition. While the main headlines are about student fees (with strong echoes of the British debate), university leaders are particularly worked up about proposals to reform the governance of universities by reserving a number of places on their governing councils for regional politicians and business leaders (the idea being to improve the links between universities and regional economies). The rector of Prague’s Charles University was accused by the Prime Minister of fomenting insurrection by seeming to call for protests when the Government says the proposals are still subject to consultation (academics aren’t convinced …).

I’ve blogged in the past about the subtleties of definitions of academic freedom, and the need to distinguish between freedom of the individual and freedom for the institution. The Czech law seems to attack both, whereas Hollande’s manifesto was disappointing to researchers but not necessarily to university leaders. Here the most significant line of division may be a different one: between the elite institutions that were set to benefit from extra teaching and research income and the rest. But since the change in funding formula for quality-related research will also undermine the freedom of researchers at lower-ranked universities, don’t expect too much rejoicing.

I still can’t decide whether I should be more concerned about reform-zealous national politicians or audit-obsessed university managers. How should we mark Academic Freedom Day? (whenever it is). Petition, anyone? Or would you prefer a Cahier de doléances?

When I was a school governor at a local primary school we started ‘Learning Saturdays’ on different themes, the very first was on Science and that subject has now come round again. No longer part of the organising team I still wanted to join in the fun. Without access to a lab for experiments and wanting to try something different, a friend and I thought of the following:

Two of us are dressing up batty and handing out pieces of apple, while bantering with each other and the children (and parents?)  hopefully coming up to us about all the science to do with apples. The idea behind the approach is that ‘Science is everywhere’. We’ve trawled the web for jokes and expressions concerning apples to liven up our chat.  The (nine, as it happens…) subjects we’ve thought of so far are:

1. The worms in apples are in fact caterpillars of the codling moth…
2. Is sugar in apples (fructose)  healthier than ‘table’ sugar (sucrose)?
3. The five-fold symmetry when you cut an apple across its equator
4. Why do apples exist? (to spread the seeds.... as an apple never falls far from the tree)
5. The dual function of wax- to slow down drying out but it also makes apples shiny, making them more attractive to be eaten
6. Selection of apples. People created different varieties of apples, but did apples really use people to spread around the world, using their seeds?
7. The colours. Why do apples often have one red and one green side?  The reaction  forming the pigments does not occur until the concentration of sugar in the sap is quite high and also requires light.
8. What causes the browning? It is in fact the same enzyme that turns our skins brown. It only turns the fruit brown when exposed to the oxygen in the air.
9. We thought we could fit some maths in, talking about Surface/ volume…

Some of the rejections are just silly. One reviewer recently complained that my writing style was too easy to read. Huh? Another one accused me of making things up. And then, there's the ones when one referee tells me the paper is too historical and the other that it's not historical enough. Some make valid points. Which I then address, as best I can, before I send out the paper again to another journal. And then the whole business of waiting for a rejection starts again.

Over the years, I've gotten very down about the rejections. One acceptance every now and then doesn't really undo all the hurt caused by the negative responses. This year, I'm trying to look at things differently. What will I remember in thirty years' time (if I'm still around) about my professional success? Not the articles, I don't suppose. More likely the books. If paper books still exist then, I'll have mine displayed on a shelf, somewhere. More likely than not, though, I'll remember the people I've met, the students I've taught, the places I visited. In the light of all this, mean little rejection letters from reviewers who got frustrated because they received a reminder from the journal to get on with their reviews don't signify much. So keep sending them out. See if I care.

When we're adults, we look back on these childhood horrors with a certain fondness, and with relief that whatever nasties life throws at us, these particular ones won't come back to life. Except when they do. Here, we have something very much like the Christmas Troll - but with a much less impressive costume. December is when the University administration decides to review our one-year contracts and award - or not - salary increases. Our contracts are renewable ad infinitum, and we were given to understand, when we first came, that we could stay as long as we liked. But no one is immune to a big economic crisis, and for the past few years, every year, one of us disappears. Shortly before Christmas, they get a letter. That letter tells them that after 15 June, they will no longer be needed or welcome here. They are thanked for their service. That is it. Sometimes, it's fairly obvious why one particular contract is not renewed. Sometimes it 's a total mystery - someone drew a short straw. So every year, as we celebrate Christmas, and make New Year resolutions, the shadow of uncertainty hangs over us: will we still have a job next year? Will our friends?

And when you find yourself suddenly jobless, in a country that is not your own, where you have spent many years already, where do you go? For some, it might mean the end of their academic career - getting a job back home isn't all that easy these days. But for those who are happy to travel further out - one colleague went to Korea after loosing his job here - or stay in the country, things aren't that bad. We hear reports of ex-colleagues who do very well. One is enjoying retirement and research funding in Japan, several are continuing to flourish in their career in other Turkish universities, where their value is perhaps better recognised. One has gone back to the States where he is making his first steps in a totally different career. So far, I haven't heard of any one who has failed to fall on their feet after losing their job here.

Still, it's not the best of Christmas traditions, is it?

Last year, at a time of contract uncertainty, I did a bit of soul searching with regards to my career – and went to see the university careers advisor – a step that I’d recommend to anyone.  This helped me to identify where my strengths and interests lie – and how many transferable skills a research career has given me.  Having kept a vague eye on job opportunities I decided to take a punt on a management post working both with universities and industry, collaborating within a new EPSRC research centre.  It felt like the right job at the right time for me, but I thought the chances of them employing a (non-management) researcher from a totally different field had to be fairly low... I was wrong.

It turns out that it’s not just careers advisors who think academic researchers have a lot to offer.  As a researcher I have done so much more than collecting data and writing up results.   Among other things my job has involved public speaking, coordinating meetings, talking to the media, funding bids, sitting on panels/advisory groups, recruitment & selection, leading collaborative work, advising on strategy and a million other things that many researchers take for granted as part of their day-to-day job.

So I have just a month left as a researcher before I am management bound – but I am thrilled to have an opportunity that keeps me connected with research – albeit in a different way.  I thought I’d share this not just because I expect to be blogging less after January, but because I think it’s a positive message to start the year.  Research work is often challenging and requires us to be multi-skilled.  If you recognise those skills and are prepared to shout about them then you might find some great opportunities around the corner, following whichever path you choose...

Or, rather, working – I’m not in the office, but I have needed to do a couple of days at my laptop. But my email is quiet and my colleagues seem to have vanished. This doesn’t surprise me in the UK – my last department used to shut down completely between Christmas and New Year – but it does, rather, for my US collaborators, the US being a place where you start with 10 days leave a year and where Boxing Day is not a public holiday (and where I know my office is ostensibly operating as normal).

So: is there anyone else out there? Or is it normal for your university, department or lab to shut up shop the week between Christmas Day and New Years Day?

First, I want to brag: I bought myself an iPad just before Christmas with a bunch of cash I received from a Turkish state institution TUBITAK which awards prizes to people who publish articles in citation indexed journals (neat, right?). I don't know how I lived without one for so long. It's a wonderful piece of equipment for all sorts of reasons, especially those that have nothing to do with work (angry birds, anyone?) On the other hand, I find that ibooks crashes when I try to read pdfs on it, so that's a bit of an impediment for work, does anyone have a solution to this?

Before I bought the iPad, I was considering whether this might be a good thing to ask Santa.

So what did you get for Christmas?

To continue – and maybe conclude, given that it’s the last day of the year – the Christmas theme, one thing I’ve noticed this year is the number of boring seasonal messages I’ve received. Not in terms of physical cards (like Blanka, I’d be very happy to get a Christmas card from the milkman: the more the merrier as far as I’m concerned), but rather emailed messages from organisations that I have limited interest in and certainly very little personal contact with. These include research councils – I’ve no idea why I’m on the BBSRC’s mailing list – and organisations like the UKRC. I like many of these bodies. I support what they do. But getting a message from them that doesn’t say much more than ‘Wishing you a festive holiday season and a happy New Year!’ kind of bugs me – which, if they’re hoping to get in my good books for 2012, seems a little counterproductive.

Am I a Scrooge? Or are others also striking research quangos off their (metaphorical) Christmas card list?