Further meditations on the difference between academia and industry. Part II.

On Friday of last week, I was having a causal conversation with my supervisor and we were talking about stress and creativity.  I mentioned that despite the increased pressure to meet deadlines, I felt less stress.  It was because I didn't feel alone and unsupported, as I had in academia.    In my current job I am given all the tools I need to succeed and that includes mentoring, especially when it comes to things like grant writing.  Grants, you say?  Are you writing grants?

Yup, grants and papers.  Kinda surprising.  What I did in academia is very similar to what I am doing now - this is probably not typical and has more to do with the company I am in than the wider community of biotech itself.  Plus I'm drinking a lot more wine (the expensive kind!) these days...

And that brings me to part II of what I've observed to be differences between academia and industry.

4.  Those who can communicate rise, the rest just sound stupid.

This is pretty much a no brainer.  Although communication is certainly important in academia, the principal audience of academics are other academics, and more often than not those within the same discipline.  Learning to communicate in a non-technical jargon-free manner is a must in industry.  I am constantly providing updates (downloads, according to Jodi Glickman in great on the job) to not just my supervisor but to other members of the team, who are not specialists in my area.  I have to be able to summarize my experiments and data in a way that synthesizes and distills the key points.   As Glickman points out in great on the job,

"Nothing is more irritating than a conversation that goes on and on, winds around a topic, and never gets to the point.  Don't expect your listener to do the work of sorting through information to arrive at the meaning of your key points.  You need to do the work for your listener. 

Think of the download as an omelet.  The punch line is the finished product, the dish itself.  The supporting details or highlights are the key ingredients and the steps needed to make the dish.  When you give someon an update, you shouldn't start by telling them about the eggs, and cheese and butter or milk.  Instead, you'd start off expounding the virtues of your fabulous omelet and then go into the details of what's in it and how it's made.  The download is no different.  Start with the big picture, the finished product, the main idea.  Then narrow yourself down to talk about the ingredients and the details - the reasons why or the way in which something is happening or has happened."

I have seen major communication fails during my few months on the job; and they have led to serious consequences. 

5.  Milestones

These are short-term goals.  Every financial quarter, scientists have to be accountable to goals that are set for the entire company, team/group, and then more specific ones for the individual.  In industry shit has to work.  This is because money is time in industry, especially in start-ups where every day, hour, and minute that passes, the company is bleeding money.

And sometimes when you reach either the short-term goal or your "board goals", it involves a bonus.  In academia, if you get a paper published the best you'll get is a pat/smack on the head and the question - so when's the next paper ready?

In some places you have stretch goals - these goals are supposed to only be achieved by really extending your limits - both physically, mentally and emotionally.  And there is some debate as to whether setting goals that are difficult to achieve can cause workers to become de-motivated while others suggest it pushes people to strive for excellence (a la Steve Jobs).  In academia, postdocs and grad students are always doing the impossible on little resources so stretch goals, meh.

6.  Money and toys.

A big wealthy lab in academia probably has a comparable level of toys.  Unlike most academic labs, industry (even some of the small companies) seems to throw money at a problem.  Money is a major driver both in terms of solving problems as well as incentivezing scientists.  Both HippieHusband and I were given share options as part of our compensation package.  The right to buy the underlying share at a set price.  You don't actually get the shares immediately but at some point in time you have the right to buy x amount of shares for a given price.  Think facebook.  All employees when they joined facebook were given x number of options with an exercise price (the average estimated options is 33, 990); employees that came early on probably were given lower exercise prices than later employees.  If say that exercise price is $0.50 and the company is lucky enough to an Initial Public Offering (IPO) and at first sale to the public, the stock is valued at $38.00, then if as an employee you could buy and immediately sell your stock, you would make $1,274, 625.00.  But companies don't tend to allow employees to buy and sell all stock immediately - there's usually time and share limits.  So for example you might only be able to exercise 25% of your options per year for every year you've worked or you might have to own the stock for a year after the IPO before you can exercise the option.    Last I looked share price of facebook dropped more than $10.00.  So don't expect as a scientist to make boatloads of money in biotech.  The only people that make off like bandits (especially in this economy) are the 1% who front the investment and maybe the company's muckety mucks (chief executive officer CEO, chief technology officer CTO, etc)

Pee vs. Wine

I have to say I love this writer Adam Ruben.   His latest article has a beauty of line.  Chew on this.

"But no matter—I would soon have a Ph.D. in a scientific field, my own ticket to vast riches and free bacon. The job offers would pour in, and I’d sit atop a pile of letters from universities and pharmaceutical companies weighing the benefits of a seven-figure salary on a vibrant and dynamic campus versus a seven-figure salary in a vibrant and dynamic industry. In fact, I could probably show up at any of these places, whisper, “I have a Ph.D.,” and live off of the $100 bills thrown at my feet, provided I could pick them out from among the rose petals.

There was, of course, a third option: a postdoctoral fellowship, living in a cardboard box, and drinking my own pee. Choices, choices."

Busy busy busy

I've been kept so busy by my new job.  I've been 3mths on the job and it's ridiculous how much has happened. 

Job still shiny though.

Will post soon when I can reconnect with my breath.

On the differences between biotech and academia - Part I.

At breakfast this morning, I asked HippieHusband whether he was still excited about work the way he used to be when he first started his job and he said, "Not the way it used to be, but I still enjoy the work. Although somedays I want to leave at noon, I still like the pay cheque and the fact that I don't have to deal with academic assholes."

Since joining the ranks of industry science, albeit only two months now, I feel there has been a shift in my level of stress.  It's one of the reasons I haven't blogged in so long - I don't really fell the need to rant and complain the way I did when I was an academic - a la disgruntled postdoc.  It's been two months and I still adore my job.  It's all shiny and new and I'm sure that as a new hire, I'm shiny and new.  

During this time, I realized that I was wholly unsuited for the academic environment. And a conversation with my old PhD supervisor as well as several conversations with some high-level industry peeps cemented these feelings.  These high-level industry peeps were surprised at how easily I made the transition, because most of the time academics have a hard time transitioning into industry.    

Over the course of the next few weeks I'll blog about what I've noticed are some major differences between academia and industry. 

1.  Lone Gunman vs. Go Team!

In my very first month on the job, I experienced a feeling that I can't remember the last time I felt that in academia - fulfillment.  I was asked to perform a scientific task to jumpstart a project that was key to the company's ongoing success.  When the task was completed, I passed the results along to the next person to use the data to get to the next step.  But my portion was complete.  And I had actually completed a task that contributed something meaningful to the team.  In one of my weekly meetings, my supervisor, complemented me on making a difference to this project which he felt had be stagnating for weeks.

In academia, you are basically it and until a project goes to press - it is not over (even then it feels like it never ends).  Although there are an increasing number of collaborations, at the end of the day, your success as an independent researcher is not dependent on the efforts of others but to your pubs and your grants.   And despite having "supervisors," as a postdoc, I designed, executed, analyzed, and wrote manuscripts.  I had to rely solely on my effort, initiative, and motivation.  When I faced a roadblock, I had to find a way to solve the problem - it felt like I was either going to sink or swim on my own.  Academia is a lonely game.

2.  Asshole, get thee to the door.

The diva or rockstar academic, nurtured in the ivory tower, is not tolerated in industry.  In industry, a team cannot thrive with the presence of someone whose ego is bigger than the company.   This is not to say there are no superstar scientists in industry. The difference is that everyone, including the superstar scientist, is vested in the company doing well.  In industry the collective interest is the individual interest.  In academia, it's all about individual interest, even within collaborations.  For the most part, I don't think people start off with huge egos in academia, but the pay sucks, the hours are long, and the only immediate compensation is your name in press, the environment encourages self-aggrandizement.  It's a wonder there is anyone still left in academia with any level of humility.

I am also not saying there are no assholes in industry. There are assholes everywhere.  To a much larger extent, however, the collective interest within industry (i.e. for the company to make oodles of money), polices the kind of assholery behavior, accommodated by tenure in academia.  For examples of this outrageous, unbridled behavior one simply has to peruse old blog posts.  The term disgruntled postdoc didn't come from nowhere, you know.

3.  You got a glamour mag pub? Meh.

Publications only help if you are coming out of academia into an industry job because it's the way that a hiring manager can measure your productivity.  They are, however, not necessary - I know several top level industry scientists that came out of their PhD without publications and are doing quite well.  Depending on the size and culture of the biotech company, as an industry scientist you may or may not publish.  Smaller start up companies (but not always) may use publications to lend credibility to the science.   Within my academic cohort, a Nature or Science pub meant your academic career was made.  Within industry, it means shit.  More important are patents.  Having your name on several pending or completed applications demonstrates innovation.

Industry seems much more interested in the skills that you bring and whether they fit a gap in the company.  The attitude is if I hire you today, what can you accomplish to met the company's needs tomorrow.   For my personality, writing a manuscript is like pulling teeth.  I love coming up with the question or project, designing the experiment, and then analyzing the data.  But once I've found out the answer, I could care less if anyone else knew.  This is an absolute killer in academia where the attitude is - if it isn't published you never did it.

In a phone conversation two weeks ago with my old PhD supervisor, GeneralSolutionGuru, she said that she understood my connection to the creative aspect of science: the project creation, design and analysis and that she knew I was less enthusiastic about manuscript writing.  This was partly true.  After leaving the PhD, I initially pushed hard to get my PhD manuscripts published and was moderately successful.  Somewhere along the way, however,  a confluence of things - my nature getting the better of me, a major illness, and having postdoc supervisors who just sat too long on manuscripts - led to my disillusionment in the process and ultimately to the realization that I didn't want to be an assistant prof.

Recently I heard that two of my friends received national postdoctoral fellowships and one even got a glamour mag publication.  Although I was really truly happy for them, I did feel a tinge of jealously for a brief moment.  But only briefly, because that tinge of jealously fell away when it was replaced with a choking sensation in my throat when I thought, "They'll probably end up as academics."

Who could ask for anything more?

I love my shiny new job.  Of course it has only been a week but the people, the environment and the work are fantastic.  I'm actually quite surprised at how easily things fell into place and I think, given what I hear about those around me still struggling to find jobs, I'm one of the lucky ones.   Hopefully, I'll still have this job in a year and will feel great about it and my performance in the job. 

In an anti-buddhist rampage, I went on a shopping spree for career clothes!  I bought several power suits, sparkling new shoes so I can go clicketty click when I walk down the office halls, and a nice fat purse in which to put all that money that I'm making. 

It's ridiculous that at my age I still feel a little bit like the 6 year old playing dress-up in mommy's clothes.   I guess the imposter feeling doesn't go away - it just gets better dressed!!!

The problem is  - all this consumption is addictive.  Just today, HippieHusband said he thought I had a shoe fetish, which lay dormant all those years in academia.  And only now with my shiny new job, has it been unleashed.  I told HippieHusband that it was not limited to shoes and while I could I was going to bask in the shine and glory of no longer living like a starving, shabbily-dressed, disgruntled postdoc.

The Zen of Schadenfreude

I know people say never say "never."

Fuck it. NEVER AGAIN.

Never again will I be treated like shit.
Never again will I not be compensated for my value.
Never again will I be in an environment where there is no accountability.
Never again will I engage when the stakes are so small.
Never again will I stay in a toxic work environment.
Never again will I be a disgruntled postdoc.

And while it may not be very Zen of me to jump for joy every 15 min when I think that this is my last day of imprisonment within the walls of the ivory tower, I just can't help myself. Yesterday, I had dinner with some friends and one of them, TheBeachcomber asked me what I was going to do on my last day. Confused, I asked him what he meant by that.

He explained that when he was 18 years old, he had a job in a gasbar where his boss treated him like shit.  So on his last day he had decided to pick a big fat fight with any customer. When a customer complained about some small thing, TheBeachcomber ripped him a new one. And the customer asked for his name and TheBeachcomber slapped his name tag down on the countertop and said, "Go right ahead, tell my supervisor."  That was an awesome last day of that job.  So, what have you always wanted to do or say to your supervisor?" 

And really the only thing that I could think of that I wanted was to walk into my supervisor's office and tell her that she seriously fucked up. But the fact that I went and got a job said so much more.

These past two weeks have shown me exactly what happens when an academic realizes just how much they fucked themselves. My supervisor and soon to be former supervisor, RedBull is just that person. You wouldn't think she was the same person who only two months ago decided to give me a job performance warning for my 'lack of productivity.' In these last two weeks, she has been so incredibly nice and complementary. It's such a transparent agenda. She wants to see all three manuscripts from my 1 and 1/2 year postdoc come to fruition. And she relies entirely on my generosity to see those to the end. Because if they don't get published, she ain't gettin' anymore funding dollars. Luckily for her I'm totally OCD about finishing things.

It has, however, been a terrible week for my buddhist inclinations because on top of the schadenfreude I feel in my current postdoc, I learned that my previous postdoc supervisor, Dr. Add'EmUp had to shut down his lab. When I spoke to a PhD student of another PI who shared the same lab, she told me that after I left, there was a lack of direction and productivity in the lab.

So with all the schadenfreude, I've been asking myself why do I and so many others get such pleasure in the misfortune of others?

The answer? Conceit.

I think that I feel such joy because I felt such anger and betrayal by those same people. Ultimately, the basis of that emotion is an attachment to ego or an idea of self. We're surrounded by people who, Gil Fronsdal, one of my favorite buddhist teachers, says play 'selfing games.' Given the current rage around the film/book The Hunger Games, it's possible to also think of this as a buddhist version of the hunger games. An example of the selfing game is when as a postdoc/gradstudent we have the conceit to think that we can do a better job at supervising. Or as a professor/faculty/supervisor we have the conceit to think that we were better postdocs/gradstudent than our current ones or even the ones whose blogs we read and criticize in the comments section. Any form of comparison - trying to prove we're superior, inferior and/or even equal requires conceit and comes with emotional suffering.  

Conceit extends to how I/we define ourselves.  And when I think about it, its always in terms of relationships.   I am a scientist, wife, sister, friend.  It's what Gil calls, a relational self.  We know of our identity in terms of our relationships with others.  But if our idea of self is tied up in those roles then we don't have an independent sense of self.  And much of our suffering comes from believing that our relational self is all of who we are.  And so when we define our self as a scientist/postdoc/gradstudent/prof and any part of our work is challenged or questioned, it's as if WE are being attacked.  I can't even count the number of times I've gotten all defensive about my scientific record.  Or the number of times at a social event, I've let it slip that I am a scientist.

One of the wonderful pieces of GilWisdom is that the practise of meditation is a self-identity lubricant.  Our ideas about self-identity often get stuck and consequently become fragile.  Sitting in meditation reveals the ways in which we are stuck and helps to dissolve in small ways the stuckness.  It provides a sense of self, independent of relationships.  A non-relational sense of self.

So although my schadenfreude feels so darn good, it is clearly my relational self asserting itself.  Luckily I have two weeks off before I start my new job to find the cushion and a little non-relational sense of self.

Update

I haven't written in a long while because I've been swamped juggling work and interviews. Fantastic news but on Friday I was offered an amazing opportunity. It's everything I want in a job plus the bonus is that I am leaving academia. It's an industry scientist position with a huge potential for growth. There will be more details later but I wanted to let those of you who have been loyal supporters, know I haven't fallen off the edge of a precipice. Instead I'm diving head first into a new and extremely exciting future!