Who needs (lots of) money?

March 31, 2006

An economist friend once remarked that given a fixed amount of money to be earned over one person’s lifetime, that person’s happiness is probably maximized if their yearly salary increases as a step function every 2-3 years.

My happiness has greatly increased due to my own grad student-to-postdoc salary step. Unfortunately, after over a year the effect is already starting to wear off. I have learned to dipose of my "extra" income by shopping at Benetton instead of Target and am dreaming of the next salary increase. I figure the step up between a postdoc and a (semi-) permanent position has to be at least $30,000–$60,000 a year.

What would I do with all that money? Let’s see:

  • New car. Let’s say $1000/month over 3 years.
  • Housing upgrade of $300/month.
  • Vacation budget inrease of $2400/year.

Hey– that only adds up to $18,000/year (and I don’t actually need any of those items)! Forget being a lawyer or doctor (see post below)– I am all set. At least until the next step in happiness wears off.  

Laywers do make more money…

March 29, 2006

Philip Greenspun asks, "Why does ANYONE think that science is a good job?" and introduces us to a number of lucrative careers post-PhD.

Nanorobots cure cancer!

Why do popular science articles always sound like this? First, there’s a splashy lead with a BIG claim:

A team at Harvard has just published results showing that nanorobots could cure provide the cure to cancer.

Then, an overview of the "quest"– including the fundamentally flawed current methods:

Scientists have long struggled to find a way to destroy cancer cells without damaging healthy tissue. Traditional techniques rely on high-dose chemotherapy or radiation techniques, which not only kill cancer cells, but also weaken the patient and his or her immune system.

Then, THE SOLUTION! Someone smart has made a fundamentally new discovery that will solve everything!

Recently however, Professor X has discovered a way to make nanorobots that chew apart the cell membranes of cancerous cells — leaving healthy cells intact.

Except… most research involves only tiny, incremental progress. So next we have the clarifying details that were so far left out:

The team synthesized jointed macromolecules that change configuration when binding to antigens on the surface of a cell.

Ah-hah. So "nanorobot" just means a big molecule that changes shape.

In laboratory experiments, the binding of a molecule to the cell membrane made it bend, causing an increase in stress on the cell membrane. Over a period of several days, the induced stress increased the probability of rupture by 20%.

…and "chewing" means "pulls on in such a way that eventually it breaks." Oh, and the effect takes a long time and usually doesn’t work.

Professor X is optimistic about the prospects for clinical therapy. "In the next step, we hope to demonstrate enhanced cell rupture due to binding to cancer-specific antigens on the membrane surface," she said.

Translation: actually, the experiments don’t have anything to do with cancer yet. Nothing whatsoever. But hopefully there is something different about the surface of cancer cells and regular cells, and then we can use that difference to bind our molecules! And lastly: a quote of praise and a quote of dismissal:

"X’s work has pioneered the development of nanosynthesis techniques in medical molecular therapy," said Professor Y of Stanford.

(That’s X’s former thesis advisor.)

Others are skeptical, however. Said Professor Z of UCLA, "Using mechanical changes to induce cell death is in the long run, probably not the way to go. Purely chemical methods are likely to be much more successful in inducing membrane rupture."

Translation: Professor Z himself studies chemical methods.

Sigh. The truth is that most scientific results are incremental, not revolutionary. Only once in a long while is a result truly useful, powerful, and immediately applicable. I guess that story doesn’t go over well in the press, though, so you hear the one above. But the REAL story seems more like this: you try this and that. You look at a number of pretty interesting problems with pretty interesting solutions. You write some papers. If you are very, very lucky, and also in the right place at the right time, one of your pretty interesting ideas is actually really useful, too. Like you invent the atomic force microscope, or a better LED, or synthesize buckyballs. But face it: if research actually WORKED more of the time, they’d call it "product development." So in the meantime, you enjoy your interesting problems and hope for the best.

Hidden costs of Cheerios

March 28, 2006

Why you use much, much more water than you think on Fresh Air. Indirectly, you consume more than 100 times your weight in water every day.

1 pound rice = 500 gallons water to grow it
1 pound coffee = 10 tons of water to grow it

And check out this link on the cost of your breakfast in oil:

400 calories of food = 2800 calories of fossil-fuel energy.

 

Boiled frog

March 26, 2006

We were gathered at a conference for women in science, the auditorium nearly full, waiting to hear a talk by a well-respected female professor, the first woman ever in her department to get tenure. She walked up to the podium and began, "There is a saying." She jabbed her index finger into the air. "If you put. A frog. Into boiling water." Her sentences were broken up by odd pauses in unlikely spots. "It will jump out. And save itself. (PAUSE) But if you put. A frog. Into water. And slowly turn the water temperature up. It will boil alive."

Apparently, she identified deeply with the boiled frog. "When I walk around campus," she continued, starting to pace back and forth around the podium and grimace, "I think to myself, I must not be the only frog. I look at people. I see how they look back at me. And I look for that secret sign of recognition. Frog? You? Me? Frog?"  

Now her lecture took a different turn. "This is not the only question I ask. Here are some of the others. I ask these all the time. For example: If God were go come down from heaven, and tell me the answer to the problem I was working on, would I still work on it? If God told me I was going to die in a year, would I still work on this problem? What about if I was going to die in a day?"

"But most of all, I ask myself questions like this: am I smart enough to do science? Am I smart enough to work on the problems I am working on? Am I smart enough to find the answers? I have a female grad student, and she is very smart. She also doesn’t seem to ask herself questions like this. So one day I asked her– how do you know you are smart enough to do science?" (Ed. note: not a question most grad students want to hear from their advisor.) "She had an excellent reply. She said this: ‘the length of time it takes me to solve a problem never exceeds the length of time that I am interested in it.’ I thought that was a pretty good answer."

And that was the end of the talk.

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