Time to Roll the Dice

Analytical scientists have a reputation for being accurate, for understanding probability, and for using caution when drawing conclusions about data. One personality trait typically associated with our field is looking before we leap!

Being overly risk averse can hold you back, however. And women have it even harder; from a young age, girls are often discouraged from taking risks like climbing trees and asking someone on a date, which leads to inexperience at risk-taking for female scientists.

A father recently asked me, in front of his teenage daughter, if I had experienced any sexism in my career. I haven’t, but it was clear that he was concerned about his little girl being treated unfairly because of her gender. Why? Well, because of a lack of role models, people assume there must be a reason why women don’t want to become engineers and computer scientists. It’s a way of thinking that leads to fewer women entering these fields – and research careers may seem too risky to pursue.

Fortunately, we can all take heart. There are certain steps we can take to help ourselves and the people we know – and some of my advice isn’t limited to women.

Ask and you shall receive

One risk that we should all take is asking for what we want; it means overcoming the fear of possible rejection. It starts from the moment we apply for college, carefully considering which major to choose, but doesn’t end when we get diplomas. For example, the average start-up funds given to professors at biomedical schools vary significantly by gender (1); men were awarded $889,000, while women received $350,000. And though the article referenced does not make conclusions about the reason for this disparity, one of the possibilities is that women are asking for less.

Perhaps women are not provided with the same insider information about the upper limits of these requests, or women are more conservative in their estimated costs because they want to increase their chances of acceptance. The inequality could be mitigated easily by increasing the transparency of start-up proposals, and by providing more mentorship opportunities for applicants. Mentorship can also minimize the amount of risk a decision holds.

I had a hard time learning to ask for what I wanted. When I finished my BS in biochemistry, I had some time before graduate school started. I wanted a job as a chemist, and was interested in a group from Los Alamos National Laboratory (New Mexico, USA). I was scared to email or call the principal investigator, so I took the easy way out; I submitted my resume to the general student applicant pool, hoping the group would see it and hire me on the spot.

It worked out, just not the way I imagined. I was hired by a wonderful group and moved to New Mexico to work with honeybees. While there, I made contact with the principal investigator I originally wanted to work for and established the basis for my PhD thesis. However, the first thing he said to me was, “Why didn’t you contact me sooner?” And he was right. The only repercussion of sending him an email was rejection, and yet I couldn’t do it.

The problem of “asking” is addressable at many levels, beginning with ourselves. When it is time to ask for additional funds to cover travel, meeting a senior scientist, or getting the last donut at the group meeting, it is important to be assertive. Secondly, many people do not know what is available or have been taught that asking is inappropriate. To counteract the fear of asking, mentors can guide and reassure the timid scientist. It is important that we mentor young scientists to be self-assured, and calm their fears of rejection. Because rejection happens throughout our scientific endeavors – to be afraid of it can cripple an otherwise successful career.

Not all who wander are lost

Another risk that occurs frequently in scientific careers is relocating for a better position. From starting a bachelor’s degree to achieving a permanent position, a scientist will typically relocate three or four times for education and/or employment. Acceptance letters and job offers tend to be the reason rather than personal preference. During this time, it is difficult to maintain friendships and romantic engagements, in addition to the stress of settling in a new location and having new job expectations. Knowing these risks, many scientist choose to “play it safe”, finding less optimal local opportunities to sustain them.

My experience is an exaggeration of the nomadic scientist. While working on my PhD, my advisor was awarded a large grant to start a “Center of Excellence” in his home country of Denmark. Moving away from friends, significant others, and family is always scary, and moving to a foreign country is doubly so. I was reluctant, but when it was made clear that my research stipend in America was running out, I boarded the plane.

Living in Denmark was very rewarding. For one, living abroad has been shown to make people more creative (2), which is great for a scientist who is looking for research inspiration. I learned to communicate without a common language, navigate public transport, enroll in and visit my government appointed healthcare provider, and thrive in an international community of scientists. Working in a European lab was a very different experience to the American academic environment, and shaped the way that I run my current research group.

There were penalties for taking this risk. Living abroad can be lonely, and even though I had friends, I felt linguistically and culturally isolated most of the time. It was also difficult to transition from Europe back to America. Because most of my contacts were in Europe, available postdoctoral positions were limited to me. I do not regret living abroad, but I am also glad to be “home”.

I encourage everyone, of any background, to travel for extended periods abroad. Consider taking a sabbatical in Europe, or taking a position within the company in their Beijing office. Don’t just visit foreign countries – live in them, immerse yourself in the culture. And when you return home, embrace your experience. Encourage your children, your students, your employees, and yourself to get out and see the world. It will make you a better manager, mentor, student, and researcher.

Creativity takes courage

One of the most rewarding parts of our jobs is sharing our research with others, whether personally at conferences or remotely through journal articles and patents. It inspires intellectual discussion about our research, helps us get over hurdles, or takes us in a completely new direction. However, it is also needs to be highly scrutinized for accuracy, significance, and integrity. Science has formalized this process to make it less intimidating and more emotionally detached, using tactics like anonymous review and technical language.

There are many other formats for creatively communicating scientific results. From the “Vizzies” (US National Science Foundation) to “Dance your PhD” (American Association for the Advancement of Science), scientific exchange is hardly limited to technical presentations. However, there is a difference between presenting data that represent cold, hard, facts and a work of art that represents a personalized vision. It is much riskier to put yourself into your work artistically, but the results can be inspiring, wide-reaching, and professionally enriching.

During my PhD, I was directed to a TED talk on knitting and hyperbolic spaces and how art can help understand science (3). This was the inspiration for “Knitting a Protocell”, the poster I presented at Artificial Life 12, in Odense Denmark, March 2011 (4). My use of embroidery, crochet, knitting, and quilting allowed me to present my PhD thesis in an engaging and understandable way. The attention gained from this “poster” continues to attract people to my work much better than a traditional poster could.

To pass this experience on to my students, every semester, I ask them to make a creative version of molecules. General chemistry lab students make molecular models from electron dot structures, while biochemistry students reproduce glycolysis and the citric acid cycle. These activities allow them to be creative and earn bonus points for thinking outside the box. Each year, a student surprises me and designs something unbelievable. This semester I received all of my intermediates modeled within decorative soaps (usable) and a 12-minute beat poem, plus the ultimate Frisbee team modeling of xenon tetrafluoride.

Conversely, many students are paralyzed by these projects. “I don’t know how to be creative” or “I’m not good at anything” are regular assertions. Part of this hesitation is a fear of not being good enough; fear that their creativity will not meet my standards. My job is to encourage, give suggestions, and help them feel comfortable showing me a little bit of themselves. And reward them for their efforts. These students are the greatest successes. They learn an important lesson: hard work and passion at the very least will make you proud of yourself, but could also help you be better than you thought.

Risks, rewards, responsibilities

We may not like taking risks, but it is a necessary part of our lives. And remember: putting yourself out there and taking a risk can send you places you never thought you would go – and help you do things you never thought you could do.

Ultimately, when making decisions, we practice loss aversion, because we feel the pain of loss more strongly than the pleasure of gain. This mentality is not easy to break, but can get easier with practice. Being mindful of our behavior is the first step to changing it.

Likewise, it is important for us to calm the fears of others and advise them when risks are being calculated. We have the ability to turn a frightening choice into a comfortable one through effective mentorship. And instead of being hesitant, we need to approach these challenges with all of our energy – regardless of gender.