Working Late

One of the things that really gets to me is the whole working-late-for-the-sake-of-it thing. It really really bugs me, drives me nuts, makes me want to scream with frustration.

Even as I write this though, I feel bad about saying it. I feel bad about being bitterly cynical about all those people who really work hard. They stay late because they have work to do. They may be under intense pressure to succeed, they may be terrified of the consequences of not working, they may be, heaven help me, truly consumed by what they do. Or they may be inefficient, poseurs, show-offs or any number of other negative things.

We scientists often talk about "heroic experiments". These are experiments that demand tremendous effort, time, materials and commitment. These experiments are the "money" figures in Science papers, they are discussed in awed tones in multiple lab meetings throughout the research world. "I can't even imagine how they did it, but they did, and they showed it!" (Which masterly ambiguous statement is patently made-up and was never actually said, but you get my drift.) Heroic experiments are often a test of speed, strength, precision and agility, but most of all of tenacious stamina. Nope, we are not talking about triathletes, merely post-docs and grad students. You really have to be burned up by an idea, to be so convinced of your hypothesis, that you design the theoretically perfect but practically impossible experiment, and you pull it off. It's an amazing thing to behold, and must be even more amazing to do. I have never done it. I lack the burning drive and vaulting ambition, and certainly the coordination, although I can probably lay claim to some speed and stamina. But it must be something.

Something that can you can possibly only feel once in a lifetime. At least that is my reading of it. Most of the biological research published today and much that leads to medical advances comes from slow painstaking groundwork, from patient methodical people who carefully sift through endless little findings and piece together something solid that eventually will fit in to the much bigger picture. (That I have done.) The Ironman experiments are not the norm. Which is why it really bothers me when people in a lab are always doing heroic experiments. Enough already! Just do the methodical experiment, come in, work well and responsibly, and leave! Live a life! Don't sigh theatrically and bemoan the weight of your vastly important experiments. Let it go.

I probably have it all wrong. It may be that if you never aim for the Ironman you will never finish the New York Marathon. Maybe the reason I cannot abide the wannabe-heroes is that I lack the drive and the vision and that makes the grapes sour. I'd like to think not, and I'd like to think that balance, intelligence and method and a little prayer to the Gods of serendipity are the way to go. What I do know is that if I have to be consumed by lab research, if I have to think about nothing but experiments, if guilt, fear of failure and crushing expectation are to be my constant companions, I pass. I am bright and I am a hard-working ambitious person, but if I am to immerse myself in the lab to the exclusion of all else, then academia will get along very well without me. No great loss to either I would imagine. But there it is.

Onward, experiments! Anyone want to grab a beer after?