What is a "real woman"?

I hate it when I'm expected to conform to a stereotype rather than treated as an individual. I really hate it when people say "women are like this" and then expect every single woman to be more or less like that.

Ge me right here: I know that we are all prejudiced -- that we all have a tendency to have expectations based on previous experience. I also know that when it comes to problems in inequality between groups, it makes sense to discuss those differences. The problem is when people are unaware of their assumptions and think that their experience of how things are on average is a prescription for how things should be. That's when they (mostly without knowing it) put pressure on others to conform, rather than to try and meet them as the individuals they are.

Oh yes, this is a pet peeve. And very personal.

Let me give some examples.

I (call me A) once talked to a female colleague (let me call her B) about a woman we both were acquainted with (C). I was a little bit pleased with myself for having deduced that C was practicing some martial art from her relaxed stance when we had to stand and wait for a long time. I know that in that way you can stand forever without getting tired, and you are balanced and prepared to go. To explain what I meant I imitated it (probably not very well) to B. Her reaction: "That's not a very feminine way to stand".

You might see this as a very innocent comment, but what it tells me is that B judges (including C) people from her stereotypes, and the most important thing about how a woman behaves is whether it's feminine. By repeating comments like this she tells me (and everyone around her) that even if she doesn't say it, she thinks I should also first and formost be feminine as much as I can help it, before I can have any other characteristics.

This makes me a bit angry, but I'm too polite to always thake a fight. I hate those little innocent comments, because they are ultimately opressive. They tell people: stay in your place, behave as you are expected.

I know that there are many differences between men-on-average and women-on-average, but I also know that those differences are smaller than the variations between individuals. I think it should be expected of everyone in a polite society to at least have the ideal to allow others to be different from the stereotypes. I think that it's difficult to get to know people as fascinating persons if you always see them through your normative ideas. And sometimes I think it's worse for men, because they often have even more pressure on them to be male.


When I hear the men in the coffee room talk about their wives as "the boss", and exchange cliche phrases of how women are of course incomprehensible to men, I almost feel sick. What does that mean for how they see me as a professional? I might be oversensitive, but on the other hand this actually might have consequences for how people treat each other. If they expect communication failure, I would not exactly be surprised if they will have communication failure. And they spread this expectation, giving it on to others.

By the way: I mentioned exactly this coffee lounge incident to some students over lunch one day. The reaction from the male student: "What, are you a feminist?"

"I'm a woman, isn't that enough?" was my answer.

I don't want to be a "real woman". I want to be me. And I don't want the first reaction when I speak about something I find interesting to be "isn't it very unusual for a woman to be interested in that?" (Maybe more about this another day.)

Role models

When I think about role models, it takes a while before anything shows up in my head. What is a role model? Someone I have looked up to and wanted to be like, I guess.

The funny thing is that the first role models that show up in my head are all fictive people. It's Modesty Blaise (because she had such varied experience, first hand knowledge of extremely different environments and the wonderful skill to get along with people of all kinds -- presidents and kings as well as street kids and poor fishermen), it's Kip from Have Space Suit, Will Travel (because he got somewhere by being smart and knowing things), it's ... from A Very Long Way From Anywhere Else (because he was intellectual and did not really fit in with his peers, but found a way to be himself), and others. It was fictional characters I looked to when I shaped my ideas of who I wanted to be: smart, reasonable, open to new things, and so on. I might not live up to all of my ideals, but they are still there.

As for real people, I tend to admire everyone who is enthusiastic and really involved in things. People who make things happen.

There are also all of those people who have surprised me, and showed me new ways and attitudes. Like two of my fellow PhD students in Uppsala, who one day told me that it happens that they feel really tired and frustrated over their research -- that it sometimes seems hopeless -- and that they would then just lock the door to their office and cry for a while. Just the idea that there were others who sometimes felt like that was a revelation for me -- and the idea that you could actually talk about it was nothing short of revolutionary. I had always felt that if you could not be enthusiastic about your research all the time, you were somehow not worthy. Being frustrated and bored to the point of crying was to me a shameful secret. Maybe, just maybe, this was something that happened to others too? Even smart, successful students!

And then you go on, and another day you will be enthusiastic again, and make things happen.

“Imagination is at the heart of both artistic and scientific endeavours”

The quote comes from Robert Sawyer, who is going to be writer-in-residence at the Canadian Light Source.

Jeff Cutler, Director of Industrial Science at the Canadian Light Source explains:

"A common thread in Rob’s work – the role that science plays in our humanity and how we understand the universe – is echoed in our focus on discovery, innovation and progress. The residency is an excellent opportunity to have a world-leading author share in the life of a world-leading science facility."

Again, the whole media relase is here.

Physics silliness

It's well known that physicists like making up extremely contrived acronyms to name their equipment or theories or so. There are also examples like the famous paper by Alpher and Gamow, where Bethe was added as the second author to make the author list similar to the first letters of the greek alphabet (stories like this are told all the time to undergrads). And I will just mention the penguin plot (some of you might know what I'm talking about).

The attitude to these things varies in the community. A quote from Dark Cosmos, by Dan Hooper, mentioned in a previous post (in case you don't remember: MACHO stands for massive compact halo object):

Neutrinos are an example of a dark matter candidate we call a weakly interacting massive particle, or a WIMP. Just like MACHOs, WIMPs are not a single type, but a class of objects. (And just like the name MACHO, the name WIMP is a prime example of the all-too-common physicist's habit of using incredibly childish language to describe their ideas.)

Compare this to how a rather famous physicist describes it, when he mentions the same words as a result of "physicists wonderful sense of whimsy".

When is it funny, when is it "incredibly childish"? Think of it what you want, this is still a part of physics culture that you have to live with. I actually rather like it, usually (although some of the acronyms are a little bit too much).

The happy postdoc

You are a doctor of philosopy. You have defended your thesis, you have got your degree. Now what do you do?

If you would like to cling to the academic world at least a little bit longer, perhaps with the goal of eventually becoming a professor or something like that, you are normally expected to go to another university or institute for a period (or two, or more) as a postdoc.

On our travel expense forms I'm a PDF. Not a portable document format, but a postdoctoral fellow. Usually I forget that this is the official title. In my experience people in general don't know what a postdoc is. It's something at the university. "So do you teach or something?" they ask. Or: "what classes are you taking then?" Nowadays, if I'm among normal people or even undergraduate students, I just say that I'm an apprentice researcher. That makes sense to most.

The postdoctoral years often seem to have a romantic shimmer around them in retrospect. Professors talk about it as the happiest time in their careers. It really is good in many ways. You are free from the pressures of thesis writing, you have few if any teaching responsibilities, and you can spend almost all of your time doing research. You also get to go to new places, learn new things, maybe experience a different culture. You try your wings and your initiative.

On the other hand it's a very insecure position. The job is temporary, and you will have to move one or more times within the next few years but you probably don't know where you will end up. You know that in front of you is The Bottleneck, the competition for faculty positions, and you need to produce results and publish now to prove that you are good enough to come into consideration. If you choose to go to industry instead, you will have to make new contacts and learn to navigate a new world.

I talked to two other postdocs the other day, telling them how I'm planning to go back to Sweden to resume my life: family, friends and all of that. They both shook their heads, and said that this connection to a certain place and social circle is something they haven't had for a long time. That's one of the drawbacks of this kind of career. Janna Levin depicted the problems of moving around as a postdoc in her book How the Universe Got Its Spots, a book I enjoyed very much for exactly those personal (and in extension sociological) aspects.

For me personally I have to say that this is really a happy time. I enjoy my job, I have no real financial problems at the moment, and having my family with me cures most of the attacks of homesickness. Still, I really have no idea what the future will bring. I'm not worrying, but sometimes I think about the future. I'm hopeful, but I have questions.

I want to move back to Uppsala and stay at least relatively close to there. But what kind of job will I find? Will I be able to live a mostly unstressful life with relatively mild and few depressions? Will I have at least enough money not to worry about it? (I've been through some of that, and with kids it's worse.)

Yes, I am a physicist. Now, what do I do with my life?

Christmas with a detector

I have written earlier about taking shifts and watching the detector. It's usually not an enormous amount of work, but I was still happy that someone else volunteered to take care of i over Christmas this year. I was only appointed as stand-in "run coordinator", which means that I'm responsible for planning and administration of the shifts but in ideal cases should not have to do much at all.

Unfortunately it also means that I'm in a responsible position and the first person to be contacted if something should go wrong. Which it did. On Christmas day we lost connection to one computer in the lab, and could not get all information about the status of the detector. I spent hours and hours trying to figure out first how to deal with the lost connection and then how to make sure that the detector is stable and in a state which will not harm it until someone can get to the lab. I didn't lose any sleep really, but I missed parts of Christmas.

Good that my family is patient, and that we didn't have any elaborate plans.

This is what it's like to be a scientist, sometimes. Even for someone so far from workaholic as me.

The data plot pitfalls

It's really an art to present a graph or a plot and explain it.

When I was a new PhD student I was very impressed (actually slightly intimidated) by how a professor could glance at a plot and immediately have comments or questions. Even complicated graphs seemed transparent to them in a way that I did not understand. This made me feel slow and even slightly stupid, especially if I had made the plot and could not explain the features. Sometimes I was not even sure exactly what data I had put in the plot, since I was still struggling with the tools (if you are in the game yourself: I used Fortran and PAW, and when I started I had only very superficial knowledge of programming).

This made me believe that other scientists, and also other students, would probably understand everything if I only showed a graph. The first times I went to collaboration meetings I would show plots and tables and equations and just assume that since I, who was a beginner, could make these they would surely be self-explaining to the more experienced people in the audience.

But they are not. Will the audience remember the definition you showed three slides ago? Will they know how the trigger works that you are talking about? What points could be easily misunderstood because of your special terminology (like using the words "cut" and "variable" as if they were synonymous)?

I learned a lot since then, and among other things I have some experience with interpreting graphs and data plots. It's not as difficult anymore, which should perhaps not be a surprise. This is a skill that just developed with exposure to lots of ways to present data, nothing that I consciously learned.

At the same time I gained some insight into exactly how much you need to explain, and in what order, and how much of the details of your own little special research corner is completely unknown also to people inside the same collaboration. I don't think I really mastered it yet of course, although I'm much better at it.

What I have learned is that clear communication always makes life easier, but also that clear communication takes some effort. You have to understand enough about your audience to be able to see your own plots with their eyes. And while a picture might say more than a thousand words, it might be worth spending a few sentences on explaining what the important features are and give the others time to take a good look at it. If you just flash a plot for a few seconds you will probably leave the listeners more confused than they were before. (Maybe this should be obvious, but if you have been to some conferences you have seen how it's sometimes done.)

Can you be a scientist and have a life?

Last week I happened to spend an evening with some geoscientists, among others. Someone mentioned that there are many geology blogs out there (I don't doubt it, although I haven't seen them myself), and got the stereotypical response: "How do they have time to write for a blog?"

I explained that it's only a matter of priorities. You take some time that you would otherwise have used for something like watching tv or reading the newspaper.

You cannot do that, someone said, because you need to keep yourself updated to be a responsible citizen. Well, yes. But you also need to participate, not just watch. Also: is everything you watch and read really necessary to be a responsible citizen?

The woman who first questioned the blog writing continued to claim that she really uses all of her available time for work. Really? Yes, really, she said. Well, she also admitted to having family dinner with her kids every day, and maybe help them a bit with homework and things, but after that she will go work again. Not one minute left to do anything else.

From my point of view this seems to be a bit unhealthy, but it's also an expression of what is often seen as a virtue in the world of science: research is everything. If it's not, then maybe you are not a real scientist...

Recently Grrlscientist at Living the Scientific Life wrote about this attitude to blogging:

So, in view of these benefits, why are scientists still reluctant to embrace blogs as a mechanism for communication and public outreach? In my experience, the most pervasive challenge to overcome is the pervasive belief that good scientists don't have time for outside interests; that having any interests outside of one's research indicates that a person is not serious about her science. Even graduate students are routinely pressured into believing this, and are often asked silly questions such as "how do you find time to read a real book?" Yet strangely, these same scientists who are doing the asking are unconcerned by the amount of time spent in front of the television or at the local pub.

And this is still talking about doing work related blogging about science! I'm not so sure that the same people who don't find time to read a book will actually admit that they spend any time in front of the television or ever go to a pub -- but I think they should. Relax a bit! Come on, you don't have to pretend that you are too good to have a life. And if you feel that you have to, then something is seriously wrong with the work environment.

I think Chad Orzel said it very well:

Not every thing in an academic's life has to be part of their research program. The idea that there's something wrong with people who have outside interests is one of the most toxic ideas in all of academia, and probably plays a role in driving some good people out of science.

I make no secret of having a lot of interests outside my work. It's obvious from this blog, and although I don't put my whole name here it's no secret who I am -- and easy to find out. I also often talk about things I do when I go out for lunch with people from my group (which I do almost every day). I have a family. I love reading and writing. I like dancing. If it's a bad career move to tell the world openly, then so be it -- I will not give up my life for my work.

You might even say (if you don't mind strong language) F.T.S.

Summer students

We have summer students in the group. Many of them, employed over the summer to help out with research. I'm supervising one, and it is clear that I learn a lot from the experience. I'm teaching him linux, C++ and our data analysis software -- quite a big bite. He will surely know a lot after this summer.

I wish I had been a summer student. I'm learning best with my hands on things, throwing myself head first into real work. My undergraduate experience would have been so much better if I had only had (or known about) any opportunity to do something like this. I guess I could have, many students at home seem to find their way to CERN and other places in some way. I just didn't even think that there was any possibility until I had graduated.

At least I'm here now, doing real experimental work occasionally involving nuts and bolts and wires as well. It's a wonder that I didn't drop out long before I got here, given the less than encouraging experiences I've had. I guess I'm just too stubborn to give up.

And at least I can do something for the summer students that actually get to be here. Some are still teenagers!

Pizza talks and thesis sherry

After a couple of years at one department I got used to how things were done there. Of course I don't expect everything to be the same over here, at another university in a different country, but it's fun to see the differences and similarities.

A new thing for me is the concept of pizza talks. This is a kind of seminar that is held over the lunch hour, and everyone gets pizza (except maybe the speaker). It's a nice idea actually (but perhaps a bit annoying for anyone on a diet).

Something I miss from my department in Uppsala is the tradition of serving cake (also not extremely healthy, except for the general mood -- not that I care, since I love sweets!) when you have published an important paper or when funding was approved or something otherwise good has happened. Maybe I should introduce that over here if the technical detector paper I'm working on ever is finished.

The whole set of ceremonies around the thesis defense is also a lot different here.

I'm not very surprised that the tradition of "nailing" the thesis does not exist here. For those of you who don't know, this is the act of posting your thesis abstract in the main university building to announce that it is printed and that you will defend it. It is done electronically nowadays, but many want to physically post it anyway. At Ångströmlaboratoriet, where the physics departments in Uppsala are located, there is also a board at the entrance where the PhD candidates post the whole thesis (the actual book) with a good nail and hammer. And then you give a party at the department, at coffee time, called "spiksherry", nailing sherry, although sherry is not necessarily included. At this party copies of the thesis are handed out, and many will ask to have it signed.

Over here the thesis is not printed until after the defense, because you are supposed to include corrections. In Uppsala, you just added a sheet of errata to the books.

The big formal or semi-formal dinner parties are also a Swedish (or Uppsalian) thing. Here the celebrations of a new doctor of philosophy are more in the form of going out with the friends to a bar or club. The formal part of the celebration is in the form of a lunch with the people from the group and department. The family and outside friends don't seem to be involved at all, at least not that I have seen.

New environment, new traditions and habits to learn. Always interesting!

Academic dress?

A little debate has been going on around the academic blogosphere, about the way we dress in the world of learning. Would it be better to dress a little better, wearing shirt and tie (or skirt and high heels i guess), to signal authority and to better be taken seriously? This post had something to say about it, commented also here with some further discussion here.

From my point of view this is somewhat silly. A teacher wearing a tie would not usually give me a good impression. You know, a suit. Show me your competence, and I will respect you. Show me fancy clothes and I will think that you have a problem with self confidence and need to hide behind a uniform.

I remember a quote from Fifty Degrees Below by Kim Stanley Robinson:

Scientists signaled with their clothes just like anyone else, and their signal often proclaimed, 'I am a scientist, I do things because they Make Sense, and so I Dress Sensibly.'

Physicists are known for not knowing how to dress well. The secretary at my department in Uppsala bought a book about clothing for men, and placed it in the coffee room with the hope that the researchers at least would start looking at their clothes and not wear those with missing buttons and holes at the elbows. She also pointed out to me that about half of the people who attend conference dinners don't bother to change their clothes before, and some of them wear the same shirt for a whole conference. I don't watch peoples clothes so closely, but I have no reason to doubth what she said. But, you know, I don't really care.

Myself? Well. I wear my clothes until they fall apart, mainly because I hate shopping (and because I rather spend my money on books). They usually look nice to begin with at least, according to my taste (which is maybe slightly punk/goth/hippie, if you can imagine that). Sensible? Probably that, too. (Long underwear, good boots, layer on layer, hat, gloves, indoor shoes to change to.) Anyway, I'm happy to work in an environment where I can dress the way I want. Maybe I'll think about it a little bit more when (if) I start teaching regularly, the same way I take reasonably neutral and not too worn clothes when I'm giving a seminar or conference talk.

But in general, I think there is lots of room for individual variety within the reasonable limits for how you can dress at work. It would be fun if people used it more.