A Smurfy Nugget

Smurf the Smurfily Baby is 8 months old. He sits on his own, can pull himself up to sit, has been rolling over every which way since about 6.5 months, crawls army-style like a champ and very, very fast, and has started to crawl with his tummy off he floor on occasion. He eats three non-milk meals a day and greatly prefers vegetables (!) over fruits or meat. He has developed separation anxiety, it seems, as he won't let me put him down  or -- god forbid -- leave his sight; he now cries when I leave him at daycare, which never happened before.

He's a people person, loves it when we imitate him -- cooing and babbling back and forth with him.

He is so kissable and squishable and cuddlable and snugglable..! I exist exclusively with the consistency of mush around him. Sooo darn cute!

As Smurf keeps getting bigger, my comfort about posting his pictures appears to be shrinking. So this adorable cheek will probably be the last baby pic in the foreseeable future.

P.S. I stumbled across this hilarious post on why babies really keep you up all night.

Panelicious

My recent trip was to serve on an NSF panel. After 2 years away one tends to forget certain things, and by "forget" I mean "block out". Like how... interesting... serving on a panel can be.

The funding rates in my directorate are abysmally low. Think barely over 10%, which means that we were able to fund N proposals, where N is a teeny tiny integer, out of nearly 10N submitted proposals. I found it truly depressing.

How the discussions proceed varies from panel to panel, in my experience, and has to do with the program director a fair bit. Some are very hands-off, some pretty intrusive. The one on whose panel I just served was pretty hands-off and let the panel dynamics develop on its own...

Generally, panels run for two days. The first day is spent going over each individual proposal, with each panelist summarizing what they thought of the proposal and why (programs in my main division usually don't use external ad hoc reviewers; the panelists are the reviewers). Each panelist reviews a certain number of proposals, how many depends on the number of submissions and the number of panelists. Each proposal must have at least three reports, but often they have more.  For every proposal, one person who typically did not serve as a reviewer, serves as the panel scribe and takes notes on the panel discussion regarding said proposal. By the end of the first day, it is pretty clear who the top contenders for funding are and who has no chance, with a small number of proposals as "maybe". Because the funding rates have always been low ever since I became a professor, I do not recall ever having seen a proposal being promoted from a "maybe" to "highly recommended" (i.e. likely funded). The second day is spent on the final ranking -- deciding who among the top contenders actually gets funded -- and the clean-up of the panel summary statements.

The low funding rates have made the proposal review process seem stochastic. It is, but to a point. Namely, every time I have been on a panel, there has been one proposal that you could suspect would get funded just by flipping through it. It was just polished, everything was in its proper place, the figures were pretty, it was aesthetically quite pleasing... This outward attention to detail also manifested itself inside -- the proposal was meticulously crafted. In my experience, the most polished proposal always gets funded. When you run into it, you just recognize it -- it is the Great Polished One.

But then there are typically several more that have nearly everything: a great idea, preliminary results, a competent PI, a good plan, no major flaws in how the proposal was organized or written, no major qualms about anything technical... Of those, most of those will unfortunately not get funded...

Here is the stochastic part of the panel review process: the success of your proposal hinges on your panel. As you may know, the NSF panels are (completely or almost completely) different every time. In my directorate, it is unheard of to address the comments of a previous panel formally --  you can incorporate changes to your proposal, but nobody writes a summary of changes made in response to a previous panel.

This time, we could have easily recommended for funding 3N very good proposals. Unfortunately, only N will get funded, and the other 2N get tossed out and will try their luck next time, with the next panel. The worst destiny is that of the proposal ranked N+1 (I was in that situation not that long ago) -- close but no cigar. With the next panel, you may easily end up in the "not recommended" category entirely, the fact that you almost made it last time means very little (I suppose the program director could advocate for you, but I have never seen it).

So what decides who actually gets funded in this seemingly stochastic process? The panel composition and interpersonal dynamics.

1) You have absolutely zero chance of funding unless someone on the panel decides to champion your proposal. How do you ensure this happens? Obviously, your work should be interesting, relevant for the program you submitted to (talk to the program directors if you are unsure where to submit and what types of proposals they want), and well written. This is essentially all you can control. Other than that, you can suggest potential reviewers and those you would like excluded, but I am not sure how much program directors look at these suggestions. It probably varies from director to director, but my guess is they probably at least take a look, even if they don't actually invite the suggested researchers. It is even better if more than one person championa your proposal.

2) You have zero chance of funding unless the person championing your proposal is doing their task well. This means you have to provide them with enough ammunition to fight off the attacks of other panelists (who are championing other proposals). And this is under the assumption that your champion is knowledgeable enough to be able to fight for it with real arguments and that they have the tenacity and energy to persevere. Which brings me to...

3) You will not get funding if the person championing  your proposal is too nice/meek. The panel dynamics is always the same -- there is always one loudmouth who attempts to have the last say on everything and is supposedly an expert in everything. Too often have I seen nice people back down because someone boorish and aggressive has made them start to doubt a good proposal; the aggressor may not even have a point, but the aggression, combined with the human propensity to back down when the sliver of doubt emerges have been known to reduce the funding chances of perfectly decent projects. Also, your champion may be defeated in a sheer battle of wills -- some people simply don't like confrontation, and will back off because they don't feel it's worth their time and aggravation.

This is what has always aggravated me -- the proposal championed by the biggest a$$hole on the panel generally gets funded because most people are nice. We were down to N+1 proposals, and we needed to decide which one to drop. They were all perfectly nice proposals and any N of them should have received funding. I decided I would make sure the proposal I was backing got funding; you have to argue, you have to show some teeth. After my two-year break, I find that I can be as big of an a$$hole as anyone else.  This is a new development, I was not nearly as combative previously; I guess I am a big girl now. I must admit, and this is totally shallow of me, I kinda enjoyed the fighting and then getting my way.

4) You should not worry too much about points 1-3 as you have no control over them. Just make sure you write the best proposals you can and volunteer to sit on review panels to improve your grant-writing skills. Without a doubt, sitting on panels is the best way to learn how to write grants. It helps you see what people respond to, what others in your field propose to do, how good proposals are organized... You get to learn something new and you get to flex your debating muscles. It's good fun.

Notes from the Road

(Written some time ago)

I took a nearly 2-year break from travel, on account of pregnancy and taking care of baby, but now I am baaaaaack. I forgot how nice it is to travel alone. Actually, how nice it is to travel at all. Mmm... The smell of airports. Cinnabon and bleach.

Sitting at a very fancy hotel. Devices hooked are computer, phone (hooked to computer), and my trusty breast pump. Just pumped and dumped 10 oz of perfectly good breast milk. What a waste...

On the upside, since it all goes down the drain I can have real coffee... So I just had a double espresso, because it's going to be a long night.

(A few days later)

My flight back was in early evening in order to have the time to meet an important person after I was done with work. Something came up, so that meeting didn't work out. As a result, I had a lot of time to kill. I also killed two Buds while trying to connect to the free but completely useless restaurant wireless network. Also faced the apparently common phenomenon of the iPhone camera just going black; a solid restart took care of that, but my faith in Apple products was shaken nonetheless.

Before boarding, I planned on pumping. Usually, I lock myself in a bathroom stall, hang the pump and the battery on the coat hanger and pump standing up. But, this time I squeezed myself and my luggage into a tiny stall, hooked everything up, only to discover that my battery had died. Facing substantial engorgement and a long flight time, I took the pump out into the common bathroom area, plugged it in, and then pumped in front of all the other women using the airport bathroom. I was trying to be discreet; I hope nobody was scarred by the sight of me pumping. All I know it was not a very pleasant experience...

As I boarded the first plane, all prepped to read some trashy magazines (a treat to myself as I had spent the last several days working like crazy), they turned off the central lights, but -- alas -- the light over my seat was dead. They were apologetic pro forma, I was thoroughly unamused. Why does nobody ever offer partial refund or some perk to offset the absence of convenience that every other passenger has? I ended up napping for an hour. Oh, well.

My airline has these seating groups, and I am always in the last one, probably because I travel alone. I also travel light on these 2-3 day trips, with just my purse (OK, it's a really big purse these days) and a small carry-on bag that can fit in any airplane's overhead bins. I hate HATE people with roller bags that are clearly too big to fit the right way, then they have to go sideways and take up more room than necessary; they should just check this luggage, but don't because they'd have to pay a fee per bag. As a result, on my connecting flight, not only did I have to wait till the very end of boarding to get on, but by the time I boarded all the cabin space was taken and I had to check my teeny tiny carry-on, and then of course had to waste even more time waiting for my luggage at baggage claim. The flight attendant was beyond patronizing. I was extremely ticked off and fumed during the entire flight...

Not Nice

I am not nice. And I don't mean "I am not nice for a woman". I mean, when people describe me in real life, "nice" is usually not one of the three to five words that first come to mind. Maybe it does until they get to know me, but probably not afterwards.

I am not evil or anything like that, but I am high-strung, impulsive, (sometimes? often?) lack tact, speak my mind when many (most?) people would keep their mouth shut, and I am very VERY impatient. The lack of patience is perhaps my worst quality -- my husband often compares me to the Mantis in Kung Fu Panda "Secrets of the Furious Five." Everything and everyone moves so darn slow!!!

Why am I writing about this? Because some recent interactions have reminded me that my personality and its deficiencies are influencing my professional interactions in an adverse way. For instance, at work, if I perceive a slight, I react to it most of the time. That makes me appear volatile and scary, because, while some people do want to offend you, many don't, at least not consciously. When you call them immediately on their perhaps subconscious desire to slight you, they get very defensive, and the relationship is soured. Nice people, I find, take many slights in stride, without reacting to them. I am quite unable to take things in stride and let them go; the only way it works is if I am so unbelievably swamped with other work that I have to move on. Any idleness spells trouble. I am in danger of firing off steaming emails, which weeks later I wish I hadn't sent, then I have to apologize and I look stupid and childish. . It takes me lots of self-control to not  react to slights. I am better at controlling myself than I used to be, but I am nowhere nearly as good as the truly nice, tactful people around me are. I greatly prefer interactions via email over phone or in-person, because that at least gives me some time to compose and tone down my responses; I have a lot of trouble with people who want to do everything in person because they like to read body language; trust me, it's better for all of us if you don't read my body language, because you may think that I will have a stroke at your stupid remark or I may look like I am about to kill you if you tick me off.

I have several shining examples of people whom I and most others would consider nice. One is my husband. He's very calm, very tactful, never over-reacts; he actually drives me crazy by not reacting to so many of the things that would make me completely insane (see the  Mantis reference). For instance, my husband has a coworker who has had a problem with hub since day 1 and has been harassing hub subtly and not so subtly for years. My husband never reported or confronted said coworker. I would not have been able to endure it, but I guess hub is either not as bothered by it as I would be or is better at shutting it out. In the long run, I think my husband is better liked and has better professional relationships with most people than I do.
Another example is one of my postdocs. He's a smart, personable guy, who likes to talk and gets along well with everyone. He has a positive outlook on life and a calm, happy disposition.

Come to think of it, the nice people I know seem to come in two varieties. They are either positive in their attitude towards life  and see the best in people, so they are always in a good mood and approachable, and people like that. Alternatively, they are the people who have learned to bottle up whatever they really feel and project a well-rehearsed calm, cerebral persona to the outside world. While my short-term interactions with the latter kind of people are quite pleasant, in the long run I feel they are being fake and our superficial interactions bore and annoy me, while they probably think I am loud and boorish and intrusive. In only one case of a very long-term collaboration has the collaborator (also a very nice guy) thawed enough around me after 5+ years of working together that he now talks honestly with me (most of the time; other times he's his usual clammed up self).

I, alas, don't have an effortlessly positive outlook on life and I always envision the worst-case scenario, so I always have to consciously remind myself that all is peachy and that I am happy and that life is good. I also make jokes and speak my mind more than a respectable academic should. But, if I am to undergo a niceness makeover I can only become the second kind of nice, because at least that's a learned behavior. So that's what I am working on -- becoming much more controlled, projecting a calm, cerebral persona (think Obama ;). It's a giant undertaking.

While my personality is definitely not a desirable one to have in the academic setting, obviously there must be some benefits to it, otherwise the likes of me would be extinct. Hub says it's because I am great in a crisis and that's true -- if there is a $hitstrom, the bigger the better, I'm your person. If I were to ever become a doc, I suppose I would specialize in trauma. But I am not a doctor, just a very annoying scientist who makes incisive comments at inopportune times and generally talks too much. However, I am smart, good at what I do, efficient, and I kick ass when facing a tremendous workload and multiple deadlines, so that helps.

Dear readers, how's your personality? What do you think helps or hurts your professional interactions most?
What are the features that you are grateful for and think help you immensely? 
What are the features you don't have but you wish you did as they would help you become more successful?
How have you made your "flaws" less of an issue or learned to live with them and love them?

Dr. Horrible

Um, no... That's NOT what graduate students call me.



This weekend's guilty viewing pleasure was  Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, originally released as a mini series (3 episodes, 14 min each); I streamed it on Netflix in its entirety (about 42 min total), but you can get it in other ways as specified here.

I don't know why it took me so long to see it (came out in 2008), I have certainly been aware of it for quite a while. It came from Joss Whedon, who's got great geek cred (Buffy, Firefly...), and stars Neil Patrick Harris  (I grew fond of his Barney in How I Met Your Mother) as well as Felicia Day (The Guild), an old Joss Whedon favorite, Nathan Fillion (Firefly, Serenity), and the always awesome Simon Helberg (the Big Bang Theory).

Dr Horrible is a villain aspiring to move into the big leagues of villainy as well as impress a girl; arch-nemesis Captain Hammer is always in his way, though...

Hub and eldest offspring protested about the singing, but I didn't mind and some of the songs (especially in the second half) are pretty cool. It was really great fun overall.

Working with the Enemy

My excellent (if a bit difficult) grad student, who is very capable and talented, will graduate this spring/summer and is looking for a postdoc. There are several groups where I would like him to go, but they seem to be struggling with funds and cannot take on a postdoc, or might possibly in the near future but don't know just yet (waiting for some funds to come through).

The one place that is loaded with money is a university with several faculty in my area. They are extremely well connected and extremely well funded. I wish my academic ancestors were as well connected, but alas, no such luck.

Of these people, one is my ArchNemesis (A. N). He has been a dick to me ever since I was a graduate student; whether it was the issues he had with my PhD advisor, or A. N.'s considerable inner douchiness, or my own charming personality (the same one that has been winning me all those vitriolic comments on my blog) -- we will never know. A. N. has been nothing short of dismissive and unpleasant whenever our paths cross. A collaborator of mine who knows him well says that's because he's insecure and intimidated, but if that's the case then he's truly pathetic because he's 10 years my senior, commands a huge army of underlings, and is very well connected with industry and funding agencies, so I should not be rousing any insecurities in him. But, whatever. I am awesome; maybe he is intimidated. Or more likely he's just a dick.

Anyway, at this point I know the guy just hates me and since he's not going anywhere and is better positioned than I am, all I can do it to try to avoid him and minimize his negative influence on my career. I am sure he shoots my proposals down on panels, so I just keep trying (he cannot be on every single panel, can he?) I don't think he gets my papers to review often, we do sufficiently different things, but I have no doubt he would shoot me down whenever given a chance. I went out of my way to ensure he was not solicited for letters for my tenure case.

Perhaps the most annoying thing is not that the guy dislikes me, but that I didn't do anything really to deserve his attitude. I mean, I kinda wish to have had the option to screw him over before he went on to hate me, but we all know that's not how things work...

Anyway, back to the story. My supersmart student has sent out feelers and, yes, you guessed it, the ArchNemesis has  funding and is -- wait for it -- really interested in the work the student has been doing (which is btw a continuation of my work from when I was a student, and which A.N. has been shitting on every chance he gets). The student asked for my opinion (it's no secret that I don't care for this guy) about going there. He was invited for an interview (A.N. was surprisingly upbeat and welcoming in his email to the student.)


One thing is that I really don't want to give A. N. is the benefit of the years of my work on a difficult project, the one project he has been so dismissive about, but in which he is now very interested. Blech -- the prospect of us being collaborators makes my skin cringe. Or worse yet -- the prospect of him just taking over my student's work and putting like 10 people on it and totally obliterating any continuing effort I have on the topic? Now that really makes me feel sick.


But, I took a big breath and put on my Big Girl Pants and my Advisor Hat (yes, they match) and I told my student that, ideally, he should form his own opinions and own relationships with people in the community, and try not to be prejudiced by what his elders (such as me) tell him of certain people. I told him as objectively as I could what I thought of A. N. (what A.N.'s  professional strengths and weaknesses are) but that A. N.'s university has lots of resources, several excellent faculty and a number of postdocs and research scientists from whom the student can learn a lot, and last but not least -- that A.N. and his colleagues have connections that will be a tremendous help with subsequent job placement. If A. N. was not going to discriminate against my student because he hates me, I certainly should not prevent the student from a potentially beneficial placement.

So what do you think, blogosphere?
Can archnemeses stop being so by exchanging a student and turn into happy collaborators? Can there ever be trust after years of mistrust?
Will my student be happy working with the advisor's enemy? Would you advise the student differently -- to stay away from A. N., and if so, why?