An amusing take on the biotech experience

Richard Grant of The Scientist blog recently posted a highly entertaining three-part series detailing his experiences as a senior scientist in a small UK start-up.

Part One covers the application process, the project, and the first warning signs that "would have made a more mature head send insistent ‘run away, quickly’ signals to its legs and ‘scream, loudly’ signals to its mouth."

Part Two outlines the evolving project, "tinkering with the machine, making sure it was as good as it possibly could be, and wondering how Marketing were going to cock this one up", and the inevitable meeting and management frustrations.

The Finale covers Richard's escape from an ailing company as "things started moving in even more disturbing directions."

Richard's story highlights the risks inherent in working for a small start-up. Although the biotech company I worked for was much more mature, I recognised some of the issues caused by scientists left in charge of business endeavours. Having said that, the right company, and the right people, can turn a small start-up into the ideal employer.

Read, enjoy, and please be patient while the contributors to this blog work get around to more posts. The second of my "interview a friend over drinks" series is in the early planning stages, and I see a few other draft posts in the back end of the blog.

On leaving the bench

This is cross-posted from my personal blog. It seemed appropriate, and this blog-space seems a little empty of late. It was inspired partly by a post that Thomas Joseph put up.

It’s surprising how much I still feel like a postdoc. I still go to work in the usual postdoc uniform of jeans and sneakers. I still go to seminars, journal clubs, lab meetings. I sit at a computer right in the middle of a lab bench, surrounded by the glassware, conical tubes, equipment and buzz of a research laboratory. I shoot the breeze with my labmates, and I find myself part of scientific discussions. And to my surprise and gratitude, I find that my scientific opinions are solicited and respected. I’m not just a copyeditor, correcting typos and English grammar. As part of my job, I am often required to evaluate the quality of the data going into manuscripts, and I make suggestions on how to tighten a paper, what to cull, what points to bring forward, and (sometimes) how to reorganize figures for a better flow.


I really thought that I would miss the benchwork. To my surprise, I don’t.


The postdoc at the adjoining bench tells me heartbreaking stories of failed projects and projects scooped by his competitors. He is currently getting results that are very exciting. But the previous five years have been a desert, with not a publication in sight--and the stress and disappointment show in his eyes. I don’t miss that stress. I don’t miss that hounding pressure of GOTTA PRODUCE, GOTTA GET PUBLISHED OR MY LIFE IS OVER! I don’t miss the frustration of fruitless screens, of watching a year or more of work spiral down the drain.


Yet I loved bench research, I really did. I remember standing in the darkroom on a Sunday afternoon, heart pounding, waiting for that film to slip out of the X-ray machine. The thrill of holding a blot up to the red light, squinting to make out the dark bands that will tell you where your protein is expressed, or whether or not it interacts with another protein of interest. Looking down a microscope to see to how your cells have reacted in response to a particular treatment—did the cells proliferate, did they spread and migrate, did they round up and die? Pacing impatiently before the scintillation counter, waiting for the results of an enzyme assay. There is nothing like the feeling of being the first person in the world to know some new fact about our universe. Even if it is a fact that even 99.99% of scientists couldn’t care less about—that, for instance, protein X is found in liver cells but not kidney cells. Still, at that moment, you are the only person in the entire world with that knowledge. It is a feeling that is very difficult to convey to those who have not experienced it. I’m not sure that it can be conveyed.


When my experiments were cooking, when my science was working—it was fantastic. It was an utter high. When the experiments weren’t working, it was the deepest low. It was like being on a roller coaster ride, but a ride that spent most of its time creaking tortuously through a subterranean tunnel. I remember sitting around a lunch table with friends in grad school, chatting about school and science in general. One of the students said thoughtfully about research, “You know, about once a year I have a good moment.” I always thought that quote should be printed on the cover of every graduate school brochure.


To mix metaphors still further, I recall once reading that research science is like playing the slots at a casino. (And if, dear reader, I read that on your blog, I do sincerely apologize. Drop me a line and I’ll give you the credit =) Most of the time you come up empty. But every once in a while you’ll get a payout. Just enough to get you excited, to keep you feeding tokens and pulling that damn lever. We all live with the dream of hitting that big jackpot. We feed off the smaller wins, or just the memories of past wins. The hope, the adrenaline, keeps us going through the dry spells.


I don’t have that rush of adrenaline anymore. But neither do I have the crushing lows and stress. I see people around me so desperate to continue their research careers. I know a former postdoc who took a position as associate director of a core facility. She took the job with the understanding that she would be able to continue her research interests. But now she finds that there is neither money nor support for her research. She is struggling on her own, trying to live off reagents and equipment donated by collaborating labs, coming in every weekend to work on her “side” projects. I see someone like that, and I think Man, I just don’t have the heart for that. I loved research, but I don’t have the fire to continue in the face of those kinds of odds.


I did not plan to leave academic research. It was never a part of any five-year plan. I was devastated when I left (er, was laid off from) my former postdoc, and I don’t want to underplay that. But I see a new path opening up before me now. I see a chink of light, and feel a breath of freedom that would never have been possible on the old road. I have flexibility to work from home when needed and spend all weekends with my family. And there is now a glimmering dream of someday going completely freelance as a science writer and editor—working when I want, on what I want, on my own terms.


I’m still in science. I don’t do the experiments, but I help interpret and communicate them. I even (as in the grant I’m now working on) have some input in experimental design. And I’m once again part of an active scientific research community, once again privy to unpublished, cool data, once again part of the “leading edge” of science. I don’t need the glory of a first authorship. I had thought that I missed benchwork the most, and that I would continue to miss it. But it turns out that this—being part of an active scientific community—is what I really missed most of all.

Why do we work the job we work?

Over at my blog, I posted a new entry which basically answers the question of why I work the job I work. For me it is a matter of, and I quote ...

What keeps me going is that paycheck I receive.

Which is why the entry is labeled Pragmatic Me. It's also part of the reason why I'm in what can be considered an "alternative scientific career" as opposed to what I view as the endless tedium of academia (no offense to the academic types here). The fact that I can work a 40 hour week, not worry about funding issues, get yearly raises and performance bonuses for the hard, and truly awesome, work I do ... are all definite bonuses, and were the deciding factors in my rejection of my academia job offers and acceptance of my government position.

So why blog about any of this here? Well maybe this isn't the right place to blog about such things, but I obviously think it is. When considered a career choice in an alternative scientific field, one must look at all the factors. A lot of us are not in these positions because we failed at academia ... I imagine quite a few people, like myself, are here because we thought academia didn't offer enough to us and felt we would ultimately be left feeling unsatisfied.

What are your reasons for looking into an alternative scientific career? Are they the right ones?

Medical Technology - Part Deux

A while back, I was asked the following question: [How comparable is a] BS/MS in med tech vs a BS/MS in straight chemistry or microbiology?

Two of the four major disciplines within Medical Technology are Clinical Chemistry and Microbiology, so there is definitely some overlap. However, I'd say that there is probably a fair bit of difference between a Chemistry major and the discipline of Clinical Chemistry. The same holds true for Microbiology. The issue becomes, what is the focus of the university programs curriculum?

If the Microbiology B.S. degree has more of an environmental focus, the student is going to have a lot less exposure to medically relevant organisms, and probably will not know the tests needed to properly differentiate phenotypically similar organisms, which is a core skill in Medical Technology. Same goes for the Chemistry major. If they have a solid background in Biochemistry, they'll be on their way, but will they have enough knowledge in some basic laboratory skills to run some of the non-standard tests (especially when it comes to drug testing and validation tests, which are usually not machine-based)? Plus they'll be missing the instrumentation classes necessary for the job (which often includes troubleshooting and routine maintenance).

That is why, while both majors can be used to work an individual into ASCP certification (which is a standard registry accepted by all hospitals in the USA), on their own they are not sufficient. In most cases, the individual with a BS in Microbiology and/or Chemistry is looking at about a year of additional training before they can sit for the ASCP Board of Registry Chemistry or Microbiology Certification exam. They can, however, be employed during that time, but it will be a position which will be heavily supervised.

Science Journalism...

...I ran across this blog entry by Matt Brown on Nature Network and he did a nice write up on how you get into science journalism that I thought I would just pass along for those who are interested.  He outlines 1) Why you would be interested in it,  2) Some myths that are associated with the career, 3) Some skills you will need, and 4) Some tips on how to get into science journalism.

Also...I hope all is well and that everyone is plugging away at discovering or pursuing their alternative science career!!