Jennifer's Dilemma

In this series of posts, I'm discussing introverts, and to kick off the series I described a hypothetical situation in which a young scientist, Jennifer, is being pressured by her supervisor to be more verbal and a "team player".  He further chastises her for keeping her ideas to herself and not sharing her thoughts with other coworkers. Jennifer is shocked because she's naturally a quiet, cautious person who likes to develop her ideas before presenting them to others. Unlike her coworkers who "think out loud", Jennifer prefers to work out her thoughts in private and then, when she's ready, she shares them with others.

So let's analyze the situation in light of the foregoing posts describing the differences between extroverts and introverts and the modern idealization of extroversion as the preferred model of behavior in the workplace.

Jennifer's supervisor says to her, "You're doing really good work, but I'm wondering when you are going to come out of your shell. We need people who are good team players and actively participate in staff meetings and share ideas with everyone." 

First of all, we see that this supervisor is using specific language to describe Jennifer's behavior: "come out of your shell" and "team player".  Snails and turtles have shells in which they hide from predators.  The snail analogy applied to human behavior implies that such people are hiding from the world.  Jennifer's boss is characterizing her as a person who is hiding inside a shell, which implies that she is maladjusted, deficient in social skills, or is unwilling to communicate.  The "team player" reference is one of those overused sports analogies, which became popular in the business world (and later adopted by other professions).  By accusing someone of not being "a team player", you are saying that that person is not supporting the team goals. 

One problem with these analogies is that they characterize people in black and white terms; in other words, stereotypes. Such black and white terms are inappropriate, insulting, and often untrue.  In the modern business world, the worst criticism one can level at someone is not that they are incompetent, but that they are not a "team player".  The charge of not being a "team player" is particularly effective when leveled at women who are traditionally not participants in team sports (or at men who are not as athletic or as aggressive as other males in the office).  Jennifer's not playing well with others.  Bill's not sharing his toys. She's more interested in herself than in others.  He's not helping the team.  Such characterizations serve to further isolate people who are different from the larger group. 

The other problem is that such terms reflect a bias towards extroverts--that any other behavior is wrong or counterproductive.  The implication is that solitary work and the skills associated with it are not only not of value, they are suspect. In fact, there is nothing inherently wrong with solitary work.  Nor is there any evidence that teamwork can lead to a superior outcome.  Clearly, some problems require intense concentration and solitary contemplation to find a solution.  Even team members working on a joint project must often carry out some tasks separately.

So how did Jennifer respond to these charges?  She said, "I'm not hiding...I'm just quiet and like to work things out by myself. When I'm sure I've got a good idea and some preliminary plans, then I share my thoughts with others." 

If you've read my previous posts on how to counter a verbal attack, you will have some inkling as to what was wrong with Jennifer's reply and how she should have responded.  The supervisor's statements were verbal attacks. Verbal attacks contain two components: the bait and the presupposition.  The bait is the obvious attack, which usually involves a charge of some kind.  In this case, the bait is the charge that Jennifer is hiding in her shell and is also not a team player.  The presupposition is the unspoken charge, but is the real attack. Jennifer fell for the bait and responded to it.  When the victim goes for the bait, it opens the door for further attacks:

Her supervisor looks askance and replies, "I'm not a big fan of the lone wolf style of working. People get suspicious when someone keeps all their thoughts to themselves."

What should Jennifer have done? As I described previously, the only way to handle a verbal attack is to ignore the bait and address only the presupposition.  In the next post, I'll describe what the presupposition was in this verbal attack and how Jennifer could have responded. 

Quiet People

In the previous post I described a hypothetical situation in which Jennifer, a marine biologist in her first job, has run into a problem.  Her boss has expressed his concern over her lack of participation in meetings and for not being a "team player".  Jennifer is stunned because she is simply a quiet person who does not say the first thing that pops into her head, unlike her coworkers who blather on about anything and everything, often nonsense.  The situation Jennifer finds herself in is not uncommon for people who are naturally quiet, introspective, and cautious in their interactions with other people.

I just finished reading Quiet: the Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain.  According to Cain, there are many people, perhaps as much as half the population (the data are not clear on this), who are introverts. Introverts are people who prefer quiet, minimally stimulating environments, which is different from shy people who fear negative judgement (although a person may be both an introvert and shy).  Such people often experience bias in a world that seems to have embraced the idea that people should work in teams and without office walls...and that those who don't enthusiastically participate are flawed.  She makes the case that many schools and workplaces, particularly in the US, increasingly emphasize "groupthink" and idealize the gregarious, verbally confident person.  People who are naturally quiet and contemplative and prefer solitude to work out their ideas are considered to be less than ideal or even maladjusted.

Prior to Susan Cain's book, there was an essay I read many years ago in "The Best American Science and Nature Writing" (2004) called Caring for Your Introvert by Jonathan Rauch. He describes introverts as people who need lots of time alone. He quite nicely captures their reluctance to go to parties, awkwardness (and aversion to) "small talk" and "pleasantries", and the appearance of being aloof or "too serious" (often untrue). Rauch describes himself as an introvert, albeit one with good social skills.  He can fake it....just as many introverts can.  He loves long, intimate, intellectual conversations.  Extroverts, on the other hand, seem to revel in superficial banter.  Not that there's anything wrong with that....it's just a different preference and way of interacting with other people.

Rauch asks the question, "Are introverts misunderstood?" His answer: "Wildly."  Introverts keep their thoughts to themselves mostly, whereas extroverts are "open books".  They do their thinking out loud, voicing every thought that pops into their heads.  The introvert, on the other hand, is mentally sorting through a lot of material and perhaps will share what they decide is most relevant and insightful, leaving the less clear or premature ideas unspoken.  It's not that introverts are hiding anything; they just don't see the point in spewing their thoughts out, unformed and messy, in a constant deluge.  The upshot is that extroverts have no clue as to what introversion is all about.  They come to various incorrect conclusions about introverts because their understanding is based on superficialities (and introverts don't help by being inscrutable most of the time).

Extroverts, by being overly verbal and apparently open with their thoughts, give the impression that they are holding nothing back. The observer finds this behavior to be guileless, genuine, straightforward, truthful, and open. I don't think this is necessarily an accurate assessment (more about this later), but this is the typical impression an extrovert conveys.  So it's no surprise that the introvert's behavior is seen as being cool, standoffish, judgmental, secretive, solitary, or bashful.  Such an impression may stimulate in the observer feelings of being judged, excluded, or dismissed.  They become uncomfortable, wondering what this quiet person is really thinking.  Is she thinking I'm stupid, incompetent, or unworthy? Why doesn't she say what's she's thinking? It must be bad...that's the only reason someone would keep quiet for so long....

You can see how quickly people can jump to incorrect conclusions when they do not understand what underlies other people's behavior.  The fact that perhaps half of the human population is misreading the other half is cause for concern.

Rauch asks, "Are introverts oppressed?" His answer is yes, undoubtedly.  His thesis is that extroverts dominate our modern society (at least in the US), and their influence has gradually led to the adoption of extroversion as the ideal. Extroverts, who prevail in social life, politics, and business, have ultimately set our social expectations of what's acceptable and what's not. The outcome of this celebration of extroversion is bias against people who are naturally introverted.  More troubling is the move to "socialize" introverts; to force them to change their behavior, either through direct pressure to attain extrovert skills or indirectly through social pressure to conform to the extrovert ideal (the party animal).  This argument is also made by Cain in her book, except she goes into much greater detail, backed up by extensive research into the topic.

An interesting observation made in Rauch's essay is the distinction between how introverted men and women are judged.  Often, the male introvert is characterized as the "strong, silent type".  Think Gary Cooper in Frank Capra's classic, Meet John Doe.  He's quiet, but still admired for being strong-willed and talking only when he has something of substance to say.  Quiet women lack such an alternative persona; they are more likely viewed as being haughty, withdrawn, or shy.  Never in a positive light.  When I googled "strong, silent type and women", I did not find examples of female Gary Coopers.  Instead, I found links to descriptions of why women prefer the strong, silent type of man.

So we have Jennifer, who is a strong, smart, quiet woman with good ideas and excellent skills.  Yet she is not only undervalued by her boss and coworkers, she is being pressured to change her inherent nature.  In the next post, I'll examine what is wrong with this belief that Jennifer and other introverts need to change and become "team players" and what she can do to protect herself from such misguided thinking.

I'm Not Hiding

Imagine the following hypothetical scenario:

After receiving a Ph.D. in marine science, Jennifer started working for a government science agency.  She's a quietly confident person who prefers to think before she speaks, unlike many of her co-workers who jabber endlessly during meetings, never really saying anything of substance. She's noticed that the people who do the most talking are often viewed as being the smartest or most productive workers, even though much of what they say is nonsense.

At her six-month performance review, Jennifer's supervisor says, "You're doing really good work, but I'm wondering when you are going to come out of your shell. We need people who are good team players and actively participate in staff meetings and share ideas with everyone." Jennifer is shocked and dumfounded. She stammers, "I'm not hiding...I'm just quiet and like to work things out by myself. When I'm sure I've got a good idea and some preliminary plans, then I share my thoughts with others." Her supervisor looks askance and replies, "I'm not a big fan of the lone wolf style of working. People get suspicious when someone keeps all their thoughts to themselves."

Jennifer stumbles out of her supervisor's office in a daze.  She went in thinking that she would be praised for the excellent work she's doing. Now she's wondering if she has a future here.  

What went wrong? What should Jennifer have done or said? Should she try to change her naturally quiet, introspective nature to better fit in with this workplace atmosphere?

In the next series of posts, I'd like to explore the idea of how people like Jennifer are undervalued and even discriminated against. I will dissect this hypothetical situation and try to provide some ideas as to how Jennifer might have handled her supervisor and what she might further do to address this problem.

Lie to Me

In the previous post, I posed a hypothetical situation in which a post-doc, Jim, suffers from overconfidence in his abilities, and despite Jim's obvious deficiencies, the lab director thinks he's a valuable contributor to the research project you lead. 

If you've read previous posts, you will recognize that Jim (and possibly the lab director) suffer from the Dunning-Kruger effect. People with this condition are unskilled and incapable of accurately assessing their abilities as well as those of others. The reason is that the skills required to be competent are often the same skills required to evaluate that competence.  They tend to greatly overinflate their performances relative to those of others.  The more ignorant they are, the greater their confidence in themselves.

In the hypothetical situation described above, the project leader is caught between a rock (Jim) and a hard place (lab director).  You have laid out Jim's deficiencies, backed up with ample data, for both Jim and the director...only to have both of them ignore your logical argument and restate their illogical position about Jim's competence.  Their reaction is due to their overall inability to make logical judgments and to recognize that they have this problem.....a vicious cycle that is difficult to break. The more logic you throw at them, the more firmly they adhere to their mistaken opinion and confidence in that decision.

Most of us in science are pretty logical people; so when confronted with such illogical behavior, we go a little nuts.  We simply cannot understand how someone can totally ignore the evidence in front of them.  We make the mistake of thinking that if we just produce enough evidence or a clear-enough argument, that we'll prevail.  However, that is not going to happen with people like this. Think about religious zealots or climate deniers....nothing you say is going to change their minds.  You have to approach such people with a clear understanding of their psychology, not based on your preconceived notions that everyone is as logical as you are.


What does work?  Research has shown that training, for example in social reasoning, helps improve Dunning-Kruger folks' cognitive abilities.  How does that help you, as a project leader? You're not a psychologist; nor do you have time to be training someone who should already have skills in logic.  Quite a conundrum. I don't think there is a really good solution to this situation.

If I had control over this person's position, i.e., was Jim's supervisor, I would place him on probation and clearly outline what outcomes are expected for all tasks, set deadlines for those outcomes, and spell out the consequences of failure. The plan would be detailed in such a way as to leave no wiggle-room for Jim to blame external factors, if he fails.  Both of us must sign this performance plan, acknowledging our understanding of what's expected and the consequences.  If he protests, I would reply that since he is so confident in his abilities, he should have no problem meeting these basic expectations (which I have set up for all others on the team).  If Jim manages to improve and meets his responsibilities, then things will have been improved for the team, and everyone wins.  If Jim fails, then I have documentation to take steps to dismiss him; but I won't feel badly because I've been totally fair and upfront with him.

However, in the hypothetical situation posed, I would not have control over Jim's position, and I also have to deal with the director who suffers from the same cognitive deficit as Jim. In this situation, I would want to get Jim off my team so that his performance no longer harmed me or others.  Here is one possible tactic:  I would suggest to Jim that he should have his own project to run and that he should run the idea by the director.  I would support Jim's proposal when the director asks my opinion.  Convincing the director should not be difficult, given his lack of logic skills and being Jim's biggest fan.

The key will be to have Jim report directly to the director rather than to me.  If the director tries to make me oversee Jim's project, I have two possible responses: 1) I cannot be in charge of Jim's performance unless I'm made his official supervisor (in which case, I can put the previous plan in motion), 2) I state that I have my hands full leading my own project and cannot be expected to handle a second project, and/or 3) I remind him that making me responsible for Jim's project defeats the purpose of giving Jim his own project.  Hopefully, this would not be too much logic for the director to handle.

Assuming I can pull this off, I will no longer have Jim on my team.  Even if this means more work for the team...well, we already were having to redo his work. And the director will eventually see for himself Jim's incompetency. If not, then I might want to start looking for another job--because the director is probably not judging my performance well either.

Some might feel that the above plan is unfair or underhanded.  Actually, this problem with Jim is due entirely to Jim's incompetence and to the director's failure to deal with it.  The two people responsible for the problems the research project is experiencing (mistakes, slow progress, low morale) should have to deal with them, not me and not the other productive team members. The latter situation is what is unfair.  My plan takes the false beliefs of Jim and the director and forces the two of them to deal with the consequences.

So to summarize how to deal with someone suffering from the Dunning-Kruger effect:

1. Don't make the mistake of assuming they think like you do. Trying to use logic doesn't work because they do not think logically.
2. Focus on their overinflated beliefs and take advantage of them in formulating your strategy.
3. Don't cover for them when their incompetency causes problems.
4. Find a way to make them responsible for the consequences of their incompetency.

Image Credit: Jon Wilkins 2011; Creative Commons; http://www.darwineatscake.com

Lost in Translation

What would you do if faced with the following situation?

You are part of a research team that is involved in a large project. One of the team members, a post-doc, is very enthusiastic and outgoing. Jim exudes confidence in his abilities and contributions to the project. Unfortunately, Jim is a total disaster in the lab, and his writing is abysmal.  Worse, he is blissfully unaware of his incompetence, despite repeatedly being shown his mistakes.  As project leader, it falls upon you to clean up Jim's mistakes, reassign work (that has been compromised) to other team members, and revise his reports.  Jim's manuscripts have to be completely rewritten from scratch, but he still expects to be listed as first author and behaves as if the revised version is his work.  The other team members have become resentful of Jim and complain to you often. 

You cannot replace Jim because you do not have the authority; only the lab director can dismiss someone.  The lab director is totally enamored with Jim, whose overconfident behavior has convinced the director that he is one of the most valuable members of the research team. The director is also a person who lacks the metacognitive skills (or time) to accurately assess Jim's real competency.  You have tried to convince the director that Jim's performance is substandard and is hurting the group's progress, but he remains adamant in his confidence that Jim is competent.  The director believes Jim has just made a couple of mistakes, which could happen to anyone.

What would you do?  See the next post for how I would respond. In the meantime, take a look at the video below for a nice explanation of the Dunning-Kruger effect...and see if it suggests any solutions.



 

Beyond the Imposter Syndrome

I came across a blog post at "On Becoming a Domestic and Laboratory Goddess" in which the blogger, Isis, announces that the "imposter syndrome" is a scam.  In case you've not heard of it, this condition is one in which the person secretly feels like an imposter in their field, despite being highly competent and successful.  They are afraid that eventually everyone will find out that they are not a real scientist. Graduate students (in general) and women in STEM fields seem to suffer disproportionately from this problem.

Anyway, Isis expresses frustration over how many women are moaning about suffering from this condition. I think the concern here is that women will attribute any failure (to land a grant, to publish a paper) to this syndrome and this behavior will, consequently, enhance the belief that they are imposters.  I also suspect that those who have read or written a lot about the imposter syndrome have become weary of it and think that there is nothing new to be learned.

However, I think there is more to be understood about imposter syndrome and its opposite, the Dunning-Kruger effect, which I think of as the "overinflated ego syndrome".  The Dunning-Kruger effect is one in which the person overestimates their abilities...and the more incompetent they are, the higher their level of confidence in their abilities. At first glance, it seems incomprehensible that people who constantly make mistakes or fail to meet performance expectations would paradoxically believe that they are competent or skilled. However, the mental skills required to be competent at any task (e.g., ability to assess what steps to take to accomplish the task, to gauge standards of performance) are the same skills needed to accurately evaluate one's own competence.

Kruger and Dunning summarize the key features of such people:

1. They tend to overestimate their own level of skill;
2. They fail to recognize genuine skill in others;
3. They fail to recognize the extremity of their inadequacy

Thus, people who are generally incompetent are unable to gauge their own performance correctly and tend to over-inflate their performance (in their minds) relative to the performance of others.  Ehrlinger et al. provide the following example:

"..to produce a grammatically correct sentence, one must know something about the rules of grammar. But one must also have an adequate knowledge of the rules of grammar in order to recognize when a sentence is grammatically correct, whether written by one's self or by another person. Thus, those who lack grammatical expertise are not in a position to accurately judge the quality of their attempts or the attempts of other people. In addition, because people tend to choose the responses they think are most reasonable, people with deficits are likely to believe they are doing quite well even when they are, in reality, doing quite poorly."

Sufferers of the imposter syndrome are just the opposite.  In psychological terms, imposter syndrome is a condition in which the sufferer is not able to internalize his or her accomplishments and skills.  They are highly critical of themselves and tend to over-inflate the performance of those around them.  If we use graduate students as an example, we can see the dynamics involved in creating the imposter mindset.  Students are in a subordinate position from virtually every standpoint. They interact with people who are obviously competent and superior (professors) and who constantly tell the student (in various ways) that they are not yet competent at the skills required to succeed in their field of study.  When the student is thrust into a position of responsibility (they graduate and get a job), they may find it difficult to transition from the "incompetent" to the "totally competent" mindset.  They may go on to develop "imposter syndrome".

These two syndromes are neatly summarized in one of my favorite sayings: "Ignorance more frequently begets confidence than does knowledge." Charles Darwin.

Of course, these are two extremes along a wide spectrum of mental states. Most of us fall somewhere in the middle, perhaps with more women toward the imposter end and more men toward the inflated ego end (I have no data, just more than 40 years of observations). We may shift between these mental states over time, depending on our history and new situations.  I recall feeling like an imposter right after attaining my Ph.D., but this faded with time and experience. I can envision someone taking on a job in a new field and initially feeling like an imposter...at least until some experience in the new position is gained.  You can probably think of many other examples.

So what does all this have to do with women in science and does this information lead to any insights as to how we may solve some of the "challenges" we face?  More in the next post.

Constructive Criticism II

This post is the second in a series about criticism—how we evolve in our reactions to it and how we deal with it. Note that the suggested categories (and examples) are very general and not necessarily rigid. A post-doc might react to criticism as would someone more mature; conversely, a late-career scientist may still react to criticism as a student would.

I quizzed my spouse (who was always ahead of his peers in terms of maturity) about how he reacted to criticism as a student, and here is his response. He said that he automatically assumed that his advisor, other professors, even technical staff had many more years of experience than he did. He also believed that their criticism was always given to help him improve. Note that up to this point in his life, he had never encountered a truly nasty person and assumed the best in others (he still does, which actually works for him…maybe a topic for another post). Consequently, he invariably followed the suggestions of critics. He says he can’t recall any time that he strongly disagreed with any of them. I should point out that he was a very confident student…not at all a doormat. He simply was mature enough to accept criticism and smart enough to know that someone with 30+ years of experience might know a thing or two. I was in the same department, so I know his professors—all caring and honest people who tried hard to help students. Such is not likely the case everywhere, I realize.

My previous post focused on the less mature of us (me included) who progressed more or less in an average and predictable way. I also wanted to emphasize the negative outcomes of being either too sensitive to criticism or too resistant. Those who’ve matured early (like my husband) don’t need much help, in contrast to those who are resistant to criticism. Hence, my emphasis on cautionary tales.

So, kudos to those students and post-docs who have developed (early) a mature view of criticism. You are already at the next stage:

Mid-Career (asst. prof., new PI)

In this stage of maturation, the scientist has mostly moved beyond knee-jerk reactions to criticism, although there are occasional regressions, e.g., when a critic says something particularly bone-headed. During this phase, one listens carefully to the comments of others and distinguishes between the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Depending perhaps partly on personality and partly on early-career experiences, the mid-career scientist may begrudgingly accept criticism, but not like it very much. Others, particularly women, may still suffer self-doubts upon receiving criticism, whereas men may shrug off negative comments rather more quickly. A few begin to truly appreciate a thorough review that asks difficult questions and makes the author tighten up the logic or supply a better justification for a particular statement.

In terms of responses to criticism, the maturing author is diligent in responding to each and every critical comment—either making the suggested correction or calmly explaining why they disagree with the critic. This reaction is particularly important in responding to reviewer comments on a manuscript submitted to a journal. A good way to annoy a reviewer (who will be asked to do a second review of your paper) and the editor, is to fail to provide a thoughtful response to all previous comments and suggestions. A point-by-point reconciliation, explaining what you did in your revision and why, is greatly appreciated by reviewers and editors who must otherwise struggle to figure out whether you dealt effectively with their criticisms.

I know it’s sometimes difficult to remain detached when dealing with really idiotic comments that clearly indicate the reviewer either didn’t read your paper carefully or is simply out-to-lunch. But learning to become detached, taking the criticism less personally, and responding without undue emotion is what distinguishes the maturing scientist. At least on paper. It’s perfectly OK (in my opinion) to rail to your best friend, trusted colleague, or spouse about the awful review you just received and how unfair some of the comments were. You can even write out your immediate reactions to get it out of your system. But then you must step back, take some time away from it, and let yourself get some perspective on the critique. Perhaps first deal with the minor comments or those that you find useful. Let the ones that really get under your skin percolate a bit in your head (even if you are not thinking about them consciously, your subconscious is working on them). When you can contemplate the really negative comments without your blood pressure going up, then you are ready to address them.

Of course, it’s during this phase that you become a critic yourself, being tapped to carry out peer reviews and to serve on editorial boards. This experience accelerates the maturing process, as you might expect. You begin to see what kind of effort it takes to do a thorough review and to appreciate the time your colleagues have spent reviewing your work. You also see that associate editors have a difficult job (also unpaid) in persuading scientists to do reviews and to deal with author’s fragile egos.

What type of critic you become is likely influenced by how you have been treated as an author. You may decide to dish out the same negative stuff that you’ve received in the past, or conversely, commit to treating others with the respect and fairness you’ve failed to receive. Most scientists, fortunately, focus on providing constructive criticism and avoid personal attacks, either voluntarily or in response to journal admonishments to do so. A few become harsh reviewers, never finding anything of value in any manuscript that falls on their desks. Others are too easy, never finding any fault with any manuscript. You begin to realize that both these extremes are not helpful to you as an author.

In this mid-career stage, I think most scientists tend to accept all requests for reviews and then spend a lot of time on them, providing pages of comments. I have no statistics to back this up—just my impression from talking with others. My limited poll also suggests that women are more likely to fall into this behavioral category than men. I won’t speculate on why…. it’s probably for a lot of different reasons.

Personally, I never turned down a review request during this stage and felt obligated to put a great effort into doing a thorough and fair review. Doing a lot of reviews in the early to mid-career stages is profitable because you learn a great deal about writing, about good (and bad) science, about what journals want, and how to improve your own weaknesses. I provided some detailed reasons for being a reviewer at another blog (FemaleScienceProfessor), reproduced here:

1. You learn a lot about writing (e.g., in terms of technical proficiency and personal “style” or “voice”) and what it takes to get published. You learn as much from reviewing poor papers (what not to do) as from excellent papers (what distinguishes them from the pack).

2. You learn what the standards are (in general and for specific journals) and what specific criteria are used by reviewers and editors.

3. The more journals you review for, the better you understand what subject matter is being sought (and you are less likely to commit the error of submitting inappropriate material to a journal).

4. You become known to editors, especially if you are a consistently good reviewer. Editors then tend to go out of their way to handle future submissions of your own work personally and ensure that they are evaluated fairly and quickly.

5. As you become known as a fair and thorough reviewer to editors, you are in a better position to challenge a negative review of your own work

This has already become a longer post than I originally intended, so I’ll stop here and reserve further musings for the next post.

Constructive Criticism I

Criticism of one's work is very hard to take.  Your dissertation or manuscript represents your best efforts--blood, sweat, and tears.  To see it shredded by another is embarrassing and depressing.  However, as scientists and authors we must learn to accept and deal with criticism, constructive or not.  Everyone goes through a maturation process in this regard.  So I thought it would be interesting to describe the various stages through which a scientist evolves (or may evolve--some get stuck at an early stage for their entire careers).

The next series of essays is based mostly on my own and colleagues' experiences--our reactions to criticism as well as reactions of others to our criticism (i.e., essentially anecdotal and not necessarily representative of all scientists).

Today's post focuses on the first of three stages in dealing with criticism:

Early Career (e.g., student and post-doc)

This stage is typically characterized by extreme sensitivity to criticism. Novices may be dismayed and become extremely discouraged when faced with the news that their work is not acceptable.  People at this stage of development sometimes view critical remarks as personal attacks--they assume that the people who are criticizing their work and their writing are trying to "put down" or "hold back" the budding scientist and author.  Another belief is that the critic is jealous and is being over-zealous as a consequence.  Novices sometimes believe that their writing is just fine, if not brilliant, and look upon suggestions for improvement with a sense of disbelief or disgust.  They may balk at making suggested changes and strive to ignore editorial suggestions.

The novice author is reluctant to amputate any verbiage, extraneous or not, because every sentence reflects great effort--not unlike passing kidney stones. The writing also may be sprinkled with numerous citations, but many of them do not actually support the point being made--the novice having failed to check the original citations and is simply repeating what has been said by others. A table may add little to the paper and will take up valuable journal space, but the novice writer is loathe to remove it because it represents numerous, tedious measurements and shows how hard they worked.  Figures fail to effectively depict the data in a way that conveys the essence of the main research findings (e.g., there is no distinction made between the most important results and the merely ancillary data).  However, the novice balks at removing incidental figures for the same reason stated previously for tables.  Finally, the novice author has worked very hard to write dense, convoluted sentences that can only be comprehended with repeated readings--in the belief that this writing style conveys sophisticated mastery of the topic.

Unfortunately, the inexperienced writer is often resistant at this stage to recommendations and wishes to avoid the idea that their best efforts are not good enough.  By ignoring critical remarks, they can more easily protect their fragile egos and especially circumvent the additional work involved in revision.  Such actions are sometimes grounded in the belief that the criticisms by the adviser are frivolous and random and therefore can be justifiably ignored.  In other cases, the novice believes that the advice is based solely on a difference of opinion, and both opinions (novice and adviser) are equally valid--in which case, the novice prefers his/her own.

Little wonder that the early-career writer is reluctant to listen to suggestions for revision.

Young scientists who are in this frame of mind sometimes will return their "revised" thesis or manuscript with few or none of the suggested changes, thinking that their adviser will not notice or will forget their original criticisms. This rarely works because the adviser will identify the same or additional flaws during the second read. Novice writers invariably make the same types of mistakes, of which they are often unaware, but which jump out at an experienced reviewer or editor like slimy toads popping off the page. 

Sometimes, the budding scientist will further ignore their adviser's assessment regarding the raw, unrefined nature of their masterpiece and without permission, go ahead and submit the manuscript to a journal.  This action is typically followed by swift rejection accompanied by excoriating comments of reviewers (if it is even sent out for review).  If by some miracle the paper is accepted with major revision (the reviewers having taken pity on what is clearly a student's first paper), the novice ignores the reviewer comments and returns the manuscript to the journal with only a few minor changes, upon which the editor quickly rejects it.

In a few cases, the novice author, having graduated or found employment elsewhere, removes the adviser's name from the paper prior to journal submission in the mistaken belief that this will absolve the need to address requested changes. The manuscript is subsequently sent to the adviser for review, since she is the acknowledged expert in the field.  This unfortunate turn of events is followed by a reality check administered by both the journal editor and the adviser.

Some of the descriptions I've painted here are extreme scenarios, but are based on real events.  A few of these early career reactions have been repeated enough times to suggest a pattern among novice authors.  I think most advisers, reviewers, and editors, however, understand the mindset of novices.  We are not unsympathetic, because we've been there ourselves. However we also know that it is extremely challenging to be successful in the competitive world of scientific research.  Therefore, we know that improvement only comes with criticism--and deliberate effort on the part of the novice to address their weaknesses.

Some people pass through this stage quickly; some more slowly; and a few find themselves stuck here indefinitely.  It's up to the individual to transition to the next stage in dealing with criticism: Mid-Career (see next post).

Cruel and Unusual?

“The writing in this paper is pedestrian and plodding.”

“The author shows minimal understanding of this topic, and this paper actually moves the field backwards twenty years.”

“The approach used in this study is unimaginative and the experimental design contains serious flaws.”

“This author has no idea how to write a proper abstract.”

Sound familiar?

Part of being a scientist is dealing with criticism. If it’s constructive criticism, the comments will help you prepare a better article or other science product. I get annoyed when someone fails to thoroughly critique my paper and instead offers platitudes: “This is a great paper—I can’t find anything wrong with it.” Well, I doubt that anyone has ever written something that could not be improved upon. Such comments don’t help you.

On the other hand, some reviewers, editors, and others are less than nice in delivering critiques of your work. They may even make unfounded statements or raise ‘red herrings’ that are difficult to rebut and waste your time.

Students are rarely taught formally how to deal with private reviews, much less public criticisms. In the previous post, I described some ways to deal with public criticism (letters to the editor or a formal comment on a published work). Most scientists go through their entire careers without having to deal with such criticisms. Actually, I find that the more novel, surprising, interesting, and controversial papers are the ones that are publicly attacked most often. So, in a way, these are compliments.

The contents of letters to the editor or comments are often not unlike the criticisms raised in reviewer comments. They point out erroneous statements, failure to cite the relevant literature, methodological flaws, poor writing, etc. The key message in the previous post for dealing with criticism was to respond only to the scientific aspects and ignore any personal or other comments that caused an emotional reaction in you. It's difficult to ignore these things, but it will pay off in the end.

Rejected and Dejected

You’ve been waiting for weeks, maybe months to hear from the journal about your submission. Finally, you see an email in your inbox with the subject heading: “Decision-MS#xxxxx”. Your heart skips a beat, you take a big breath, and you click on the email to open it. It says, “Thank you for your submission, but we regret to inform you that…..”.

What now?

For some female scientists (especially early-career), this is the end. The paper goes into their file, never to see the light of day again. Their most frequent thought is, “What did I do wrong?” Or worse, "What's wrong with me?"

In contrast, most male scientists think, “What’s wrong with that journal editor and those ignorant reviewers? Can’t they see that my paper is fantastic? I’m sending it somewhere else!”

In graduate school, it’s rare for students to get advice on how to handle rejection. Advisors may not recognize that male and female students handle rejection differently and perhaps fail to give some extra encouragement or specific advice to female students. If the advisor is male, he may assume that female students and post-docs will react the same way he would to rejection.

But knowing how to deal with rejection can make the difference as to whether you are successful or not in a science career. How you react to rejection is as much of a test of character as your ability as a scientist.

A little-known statistic: some of the most published scientists have the most rejections. This is because they do not give up until they get their papers published and often suffer numerous rejections along the way. If you automatically assume the problem is with you when your paper is rejected, then you will tend to give up. If you instead believe the problem is not necessarily with you or your inherent ability, then you will realistically assess the reviews, make necessary revisions, and persist until you succeed.

If your work deserves to be published (i.e., it’s good), then giving up with the first rejection is a mistake. If the work is flawed, then heed the comments of the reviewers and editors (they’ve done you a favor) and revise the paper and resubmit somewhere else. If the problem is not fixable, then you might be able to salvage a portion of the study and publish it as a note.

For more discussion of what to do when your paper is rejected, see this article, “When a Journal Says No” by Wendy Belcher. The advice she gives is far more comprehensive than what I could cover in this blog post. I highly recommend it if you are at all unclear as to how to proceed when getting a rejection letter.

Instead, let me tell about my own personal experience with rejection.

A number of years ago, another scientist (female) and I collaborated on a paper, which we submitted for publication at a moderate-impact journal. It was rejected. We revised and resubmitted somewhere else. It kept getting rejected, and we kept revising and resubmitting it. We were determined to get the paper published because we thought it was a great study. She lived in a different city, so we met at another city mid-way between us to work on the paper. We holed up in a hotel room with our computers, a printer, and lots of coffee. Each time the paper was rejected, we would meet over a weekend and revise. We were getting very frustrated because some of the changes (based on previous reviewer comments) were later criticized by other reviewers. We started referring to it as the “Paper from Hell”.

Finally, we went back to our original version, incorporated some of the suggestions that seemed reasonable, and resubmitted to a high-impact journal in our field. The paper was accepted with minor revision. The week it was published, the editors of Science selected it for their “Editor’s Choice” section. The journal that published our paper was delighted that one of their publications was mentioned by Science, and the editors would subsequently thank us profusely whenever they saw us at conferences.

I guess the moral is: Be persistent; don’t give up too easily. I don’t know why our paper got so many rejections. It could be the reviewer lottery was not in our favor or simply that we had failed in earlier versions to write a sufficiently compelling paper. In hindsight, I see many things that I would do differently today—but by persisting, we ultimately got it right.

From "Publish or Perish" to "What's your H-Index?"

Everyone is familiar with the cliche' "publish or perish". But how many know what the H-Index is? The latter has in recent years become a common metric used to assess scientists.

I had an interesting conversation the other day with an administrator about assessing the performance of scientists. We ultimately began talking about the citation index and the H-index as useful metrics of science impact (for those unfamiliar with these, the citation index is a measure of how many times a scientist’s work is cited by other scientists; the H-index reflects both the number of publications and the number of citations per publication).

Mr. Admin was dismissing this metric as valid because it does not distinguish between negative and positive citations. The implication is that a scientist who publishes poor (flawed) papers might get citations, but those citations that are critical of the work are mixed up with positive ones. So he was arguing that the citation rate is not a good measure of the quality of a person’s work.

Of course, the answer is that evaluators should also look at the work itself and where it’s published, in addition to the times it is cited.

But then I thought about this some more. Are papers that get criticized necessarily wrong or fail to impact science? I think that many controversial papers or ones that report novel findings are immediately attacked (especially by competitors or those whose previous work is threatened). The consequent citations reflect criticisms of the work. Does this mean they are not relevant or should not be counted in quantifying a scientist’s impact? On the contrary. I think they are very relevant and reflect the very essence of science impact.

Even papers that are based on flawed data or incorrect interpretations, but that stimulate a new direction of research have a valuable impact. Early work using standard techniques available at the time may later be reinterpreted when newer, better methods become available. But these early pioneers have performed an essential service to their field of science. We honor them by citing their work, even if the later body of work shows that the original theory needed some tweaking. Even if initial ideas are completely overturned, the subsequent work often reveals new insights that might never have been discovered if those later researchers had not been stimulated into looking into the topic further.

Scientists who consistently publish thought-provoking work and challenge the current dogma tend to have high citation rates. Scientists who routinely do pedestrian work that just repeats what others have done tend not to be cited much, if at all. People who do really poor, flawed work tend not to get published.

There are other, possibly more valid criticisms of citation indices, such as the fact that all the authors on a cited publication receive a citation regardless of their contribution. Here is a compilation of some pros and cons of the h-index.

What do you think? Is the Science Citation Index/H-Index a valid measure of a scientist’s impact? Do you know how many times your work has been cited? Are you aware that academic search committees often use this metric (along with others) to decide whether you are a worthy candidate? Do you regularly analyze your citations to see which papers (and topics) are being cited most/least? Do you use this information to modify your research questions/approaches/writing style/journals? Do you know how you stack up compared to your peers?