Academic musing by Hendry, Bolnick, Gotanda, and awesome guests.
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(This post is by Tim Farkas. I am just putting it up. Andrew)
If pressed to list the most influential
paradigms of the last century, few ecologists would forget MacArthur and
Wilson’s (1967) theory of island biogeography, and even fewer would intentionally
exclude it. Since its inception, island biogeography has served as a powerful neutral
model to explain patterns of biodiversity across space, and has seen its share of
modifications, amendments, and criticisms, as befits any theory so prominent and
enduring. Even when challenged to compete with metacommunity theory – its freshly
minted and highly comprehensive contemporary – island biogeography performs
surprisingly well, boasting a highly intuitive framework within which to
develop new theory.
The late Robert H. MacArthur (left), a more recent E. O. Wilson, and their iconic 1967 book.
Perhaps it was only a matter of time, then,
as the eco-evolutionary synthesis came into focus, that island biogeography was
reconsidered in the light of rapid and ecologically powerful evolutionary
dynamics. In the March issue of Trends in
Ecology and Evolution, my colleagues and I (Farkas et al. 2015) point out that habitat area and isolation, central variables that
influence equilibrium species richness in island biogeography theory (MacArthur and Wilson
1967), can also influence the fundamental processes of ecological genetics:
gene flow, mutation, genetic drift, and natural selection. Hence, while area
and isolation determine colonization and extinction rates through neutral
processes, they can also cause rapid evolution.
MacArthur and Wilson’s (1967) original model. Small islands experience higher rates of extinction than larger islands, and isolated (far) islands experience less colonisation than well-connected islands (near), driving differences between islands in species richness at equilibrium.
We go on to lay down a general framework
for how rapid evolution itself can influence equilibrium species richness,
though effects on colonization and extinction. The key is that different
evolutionary processes either promote or break down local adaptation, so
habitat isolation and area can determine the location of a species on the “(mal)adaptation”
continuum (Hendry and Gonzalez 2008). Building off the trophic theory of island biogeography (Gravel et al. 2011), (mal)adaptation in a single species can ripple through food webs
and impact community-level patterns of colonization and extinction, ultimately
influencing species richness at equilibrium.
The
take-home: habitat area and isolation can have
effects on equilibrium species richness mediated by both ecology and evolution,
and those effects might reinforce or oppose one another.
Gene flow is perhaps the best process with
which to illustrate eco-evolutionary island biogeography, because it is
dependent on dispersal, which is heavily influenced by habitat isolation. A
highly isolated habitat is expected to have low species richness at
equilibrium, because colonization events will be rare, relative to a
well-connected habitat (MacArthur and Wilson 1967). However, isolation will
also reduce gene flow. Gene flow can have a diversity of consequences, but if
gene flow is strong, and comes from populations locally adapted to divergent
habitats, it breaks down local adaptation. Supposing gene flow causes local
maladaptation, what may be predicted for colonization and extinction throughout
the community? It depends on the role of the maladapted species in the food web.
If maladaptation in a generalist pollinator reduces its abundance, the
likelihood of extinction for plant mutualists might increase, reducing their
species richness. On the other hand, if maladaptation reduces the abundance of
a dominant consumer (e.g., a granivorous rodent), it could increase the species
richness of competitors (other rodents).
In one of the examples above, the effects
of isolation on species richness mediated by ecology and evolution oppose one
another. In an extreme, where the evolutionary effect outweighs the ecological
effect, isolated habitats could in theory have higher species richness than
well-connected habitats, at least for particular guilds. This outcome can be
illustrated using MacArthur and Wilson’s (1967) equilibrium figure of crossing
extinction and colonization curves.
Reprinted from Farkas et al. (2015). Notice, in our extension of island theory, how an opposing influence of (mal)adaptation can lead to inverted predictions compared to island theory (arrows), such that highly connected patches have lower species richness at equilibrium (bottom). C = connected, I = isolated.
We draw three primary conclusions in this
article. First, eco-evolutionary dynamics research would benefit from the
explicit inclusion of gene flow, mutation, and genetic drift alongside natural
selection. Second, a study of (mal)adaptation is likely a profitable means by
which to accomplish that goal. Third, rapid
evolution can have a strong influence on species richness, and in particular
can modify the core predictions of island biogeography. We hope this perspective
encourages evolutionary ecologists to focus on (mal)adaptation and to
incorporate evolutionary dynamics into their studies of biogeographic patterns.
References
Farkas, T. E., A. P. Hendry, P. Nosil, and A. P. Beckerman. 2015. How
maladaptation can influence biodiversity: Eco-evolutionary island biogeography.
Trends in Ecology & Evolution 30.
Gravel, D., F. Massol, E. Canard, D.
Mouillot, and N. Mouquet. 2011. Trophic theory of island biogeography. Ecology
Letters 14:1010–1016.
Hendry, A. P., and A. Gonzalez. 2008.
Whither adaptation? Biology & Philosophy 23:673–699.
MacArthur, R. H., and E. O. Wilson. 1967. The
Theory of Island Biogeography. Princeton University Press, Princeton, NJ.
Almost immediately after posting “How
to Succeed in Graduate School” 10 days ago, I started receiving comments
reminding me of other tips that I should have included. Now 1300+ views later, the original post clearly has to be Part 1 and I here provide Part 2. (Don't worry, I won't test your patience further with a Part 3.) As in Part 1, this post
applies most directly to students who wish to make a career of research in
academia or, to some extent, in government/industry/NGO. In addition, all of
the suggestions apply to PhD students, whereas only some apply to MSc students. Finally, my experience - and therefore advice - relates most directly to students in ecology and evolution, although I am sure much of it applies more broadly.
EVEN THE BEST LAID PLANS…
Driven in part by the requirements
of committee meetings and qualifying exams, students try to map out their
thesis in precise detail: chapters, papers, time lines, sampling/experimental
design, stats, etc. Doing so is all well and good, but 12 years of experience
on student committees has made clear that such plans are NEVER realized. I
would suggest a crude estimate that only 1-2 proposed chapters actually make it into a thesis, and
each of those that do ultimately look quite different from what was proposed.
In short, planning is great but flexibility and opportunity are just as
critical. Keep your eye out for exciting new ideas even if they weren’t in your
original thesis plan; these inspirations often pan out as well or better than the
original plan. And don’t stress out too much when your careful plan implodes – just
accept from the beginning such an outcome is likely. As a specific implementation
of this general suggestion, never apologize for failing to realize your original
plan when discussing your work in talks or presentations (and try to avoid it
in committee meetings). In reality, no
one cares what you didn’t do, they only care what you did do. Talking about what you didn’t do just distracts and
(sometimes) annoys the listener. In short, you should focus on what you have
actually achieved and what you plan to do next.
Students are often encouraged to provide
a strong a priori prediction for a
given study, which can lead to several problems. First, it is usually easy to
make a reasonable prediction that is directly contrary to the prediction advanced
by the student: increasing A could just as easily lead to decreasing B as
increasing B. Second, in correlative studies, one can nearly always conceptually
invert the x-axis (presumed to be the cause) and the y-axis (assumed to be the effect)
and yet still have a perfectly reasonable interpretation: see my post on “Faith’s
Conjecture.” Third, when the study is actually conducted, a priori predictions are often NOT confirmed.
Instead, negative (non-significant) or contrary results frequently emerge. Fourth,
a strong a priori prediction can lead
a student to assert support for the hypothesis when, in reality, the data more
strongly support an alternative. This disconnect is very common in papers that
I edit/review: in essence, the inferences aren't supported by the data. (Many
journals even have a check-box in their reviewer forms for just this outcome.)
For all of these reasons, a single prediction is usually not optimal. Instead, it is much more useful generate plausible alternative
predictions that correspond to alternative mechanisms/processes/effects.
That way, no matter what the outcome, you already anticipated it and you have
an explanation for it. Moreover, you are less likely to be disappointed when
your data don’t support a prediction, and disappointment in such cases has a
huge influence on how enthusiastic and confident you are in presenting your
results. In closing this point, I need to note that your supervisor might have
a particularly strong opinion about predictions and, if so, you obviously need
to take that into consideration.
An example of Faith's Conjecture: gene flow can constrain adaptive divergence and adaptive divergence can constrain gene flow. From Rasanen and Hendry (2008 - Ecology Letters).
AVOID THE GRASS-IS-GREENER SYNDROME
Following from the above point, a
given project always looks best before the actual work starts. After that,
entropy happens and things start to fall apart. Targeted populations can’t be
collected. Permits can’t be obtained. PCRs don’t work. DNA degrades. Funds run
out. Hurricanes or floods destroy replicates. Hard drives crash (whatever else
you do, make frequent backups of everything). And so on. Yet the project often
turns out OK anyway. The problem is that most students lose excitement and interest
as their ideal visualization transforms into messy reality – and this disillusionment
increases with time, which decreases the motivation and drive to publish the
work. Then they move on to something new – like a postdoc – without having published
their previous work and the “grass is
greener” syndrome kicks in. Now you are planning a new project, which as
noted above looks ideal in concept, whereas the older reality is tarnished. As
a result, efforts are often directed toward the newer work and the older stuff
languishes. Yet it remains valuable to publish the older work as soon as
possible. Stated in a more concrete fashion, you shouldn’t neglect your
unpublished PhD work after you graduate. One reason is that your new project
will also pick up considerable tarnish before you get around to publishing it.
Another reason is that most people get their 2nd post-PhD position
on the merits of their PhD work, not on work conducted during their 1st
post-PhD position. Timeframes for transitions between most positions (e.g.,
postdocs) are simply too short to get much on your CV from your current
position before moving on to the next one. A third (related) reason is that
following through on your PhD work is usually by far the quickest route to a
new publication, and lots of publications produced quickly will help your
career. (Great advice on manuscript necromancy – breathing life into a “dead”
manuscript – can be found here.)
FIGHT THE IMPOSTER SYNDROME
Despite
external evidence of their competence, those with the [imposter syndrome]
remain convinced that they are frauds and do not deserve the success they have
achieved. Proof of success is dismissed as luck, timing, or as a result of
deceiving others into thinking they are moreintelligentand
competent than they believe themselves to be. (via WIKIPEDIA) A number of
students fall into this trap and yet I can
assert with confidence that success in graduate school comes FROM YOU. Certainly
it helps to have a supportive university, department, supervisor, and lab, but
research success requires you. If you
have a cool research result, you obtained it. If you publish a paper, you did
it. If you get an award, it is because you deserved it. None of this would have
happened without you. Note that acknowledging your own abilities doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get help from
others – that is often essential too. No one can be an expert in everything,
and it makes the utmost sense to get help from experts. I am reminded of the
pithy qualifier offered at the start of his defense presentation by a fellow
graduate student, Andy Dittman: During my
talk, when I say “I”, I really mean “we”; and when I say “we”, I really mean
“they.”
What examiners want to see at your
defense is a colleague rather than a student. The whole point of being awarded
a PhD is that you are being recognized as intellectually equivalent to the
people sitting in judgement on whether or not you should enter that club. Thus,
your defense will always go most smoothly if you imagine yourself as a
professor giving a seminar in another department, rather than a graduate
student humbly seeking approval. Importantly, this advice is not an
encouragement for you to be arrogant or dismissive, as I suppose sometimes
happens with seminar speakers. With this in mind, emulate seminar speakers that have come to your department and whose
talks (and answers to questions) you, and others in the department, reacted to
best. Be confident but not arrogant. Be assertive but not abrasive. Admit
when you don’t know something but don’t apologize for it. Listen respectfully
to questions but don’t be cowed by them. Those people out there want to see you
as their equal and you should proceed accordingly. (Here is some related advice from The Professor Is In)
The maximum length of your degree
is often set by your university, department, or supervisor – and you need to meet
those deadlines. So you can’t take too long. However, you also want to be to
quick about it. Trying to finish too quickly will generally decrease your
publication quality, quantity, or both. These outcomes are problematic because getting
your next position depends largely on your PhD publications. Thus, you shouldn’t
rush yourself out the door unless it is required. Note that following this
advice will also help to fix problems that can arise from the “grass is
greener” syndrome noted above. However, you certainly shouldn’t PLAN to take a
long time, nor PLAN to exceed the time that you initially schedule. In such
cases, you will find yourself running afoul of Hofstadter’s Law: It always takes longer than you expect, even
when you take into account Hofstadter's Law.Thus, make a realistic time plan and try to meet it but don’t rush
yourself at the end if opportunities permit. Moreover, it is critical that you
use such extra time productively – you need to get papers out!!!!!!
In direct contrast to
the above encouragement, some students drag on way too long. They insist on
getting everything perfect. They want to publish every paper before submitting
their thesis. Or they simply procrastinate endlessly. This strategy is also a
very bad idea. You need to work productively and efficiently and submit your
thesis and move to the next position without worrying about publishing
everything. I suggest you start planning
your next position, such as a postdoc, at least a year in advance. Networking
is critical: start talking to profs at meetings. Grants are great: apply for
postdoctoral fellowships as they will give you the most flexibility for the
future. But, critically, don’t spend so much time networking and writing grants
that you diminish your publications, because these are by far the most
important predictor of success in obtaining your next position. Thus, you need to find the sweet spot between not
rushing and not dragging. My former student Ben suggests a nice analogy: “I find myself with the mental image
of a pendulum swinging; when you graduate, you want to be on the upswing, but
not yet to that pause at the top of the swing where you no longer have any
momentum.”
I am have encouraged to also talk about
personal interactions, such as when you and your supervisor don’t get along. Or
you hate your lab/office/field mates. Much has been written on these points by
others and I am not going to get into them here. They are simply too
context-specific to fit into this rapid point-by-point style of advice. If you
really want to work through these issues, I suggest you first talk to the
people with whom you are having trouble and then talk confidentially to a
neutral third party (another prof, for example). And always be respectful, regardless of how you feel about someone.
My last “how to” post was about getting into graduate
school, so it seems logical to follow up with a post about how to kick ass once
you get into graduate school. Of course, the advice that follows won’t apply in
all instances, and some of it is rather obvious, but I hope that I can provide
some unique insights that might help you on your way. (Advice from other
sources are provided by links at the end.) I also need to note that this post applies
most directly to students who wish to make a career of research in academia or,
to some extent, in government, industry, or NGOs. In addition, all of the suggestions
apply to PhD students, whereas only some apply to MSc students. As an aside, I
think MSc projects are great (I got a lot out of mine) but many institutions,
including mine (McGill), and funding agencies put the major emphasis on PhD
students. As a result, it is more and more common to simply skip the MSc and go
straight from undergrad into PhD.
This post will be part 1 of 2 as the topic is super important and too much needs to be said to fit into a single post. Part 2 is here.
PUBLISH – EARLY AND OFTEN AND WELL.
We had better get the obvious out of the way first – your
success in graduate school is mostly determined by the papers you publish. You
want quantity. You want quality. You want quality in quantity. You want it
early and often and well. So how to achieve this?
Get started early. The earlier you start
publishing the better. I strongly suggest identifying a definable project very
early on that you can submit fairly quickly – in your first year. It doesn’t
have to be earth-shaking or ground-breaking. A (hopefully novel)review paper on your proposed research area is a good option.) It just gets you started. You
learn how the process works. You establish yourself as someone who can see research
through to completion, someone who has something to contribute, someone who can
get the job done. It will make everything easier: committee meetings,
qualifying exams, defenses, future positions, everything. If you conducted
undergraduate research, write it up early in your graduate degree (the longer
you wait the harder it will be).
Shoot high at some point. It is so much
easier to dump your work in open-access journals than to work your way through
the more picky alternatives. A few papers in open-access journals are fine
(especially early on) but you also need some papers in picky journals, ideally
society-based journals like Ecology
or Evolution or PRSB. These journals are a critical stamp of approval that says your
work isn’t just “solid” but also “important” and “interesting.” Of course, the glamour
journals (Science, Nature, PNAS) are even better career-wise if you can get into them, but
they are a big risk. I have known a number of students who have essentially put
their entire thesis into one paper trying to get it into those journals only to
have it rejected from all of them after years of trying. The student has then been
in such a hurry to publish before graduation that they dumped it in open
access. And then they had to scramble to come up with a few more chapters. So
it is a risky strategy to shoot for the glamour. Note that your supervisor will likely have strong opinions on these
points, and her/his suggestions come before mine.
First authored papers are by far the best.
Collaborations with other students, postdocs, and profs are an extremely
rewarding part of graduate school (more on this below) but what is most
critical for your future career opportunities is first authored papers. Don’t
make the mistake of thinking that a bunch of co-authored papers are equivalent
to a first-authored paper. Moreover, co-authored efforts can still take an
immense amount of time and effort, potentially reducing your ability to produce
first-authored papers. So collaborate on other projects but remember that your
success will be determined much more strongly by your first-authored
publications.
PLAY TO STRENGTH, WORK ON WEAKNESS
Very early on as a supervisor, I realized that students (in
fact, everybody) can be ordered along a continuum from “thinker” to “doer." Thinkers read all the relevant literature. They debate and puzzle and work over
every concept and idea in great detail and at great length. Doers see the task
and get it done – quickly and efficiently. The truth is that the current
competitive academic environment is geared to reward doers given that the sheer
volume of papers matters. Or, stated more precisely, a thinker who has very few
papers will have trouble moving on, even if those few papers are great. And
yet, at the same time, a doer who has tons of papers will sometimes be deemed
superficial or a dilettante if those papers are deemed too minor – or folks can
be suspicious of people who publish what they deem as “too many papers to do a
good job on any of them.” The first step is to realize where you fall on the
continuum: “My name is Andrew, and I am doer.” If you are a thinker, you must
force yourself in the doer direction. You have to set yourself goals and
deadlines and you must meet them. Stop thinking quite so much – and do some
more doing. You will publish more papers, which is good. Of course, the
opposite applies to doers – slow yourself down and do more reading and thinking.
You will publish better papers, which is good.
Key: There are two types of people: those that talk the talk and those that walk the walk. People who walk the walk sometimes talk the talk but most times they don't talk at all, 'cause they walkin'. Now, people who talk the talk, when it comes time for them to walk the walk, you know what they do? They talk people like me into walkin' for them.
IT’S THE DATA, STUPID
Publishing good work (early and often) depends first and
foremost on data, which depends on the best possible sampling/experimental
design and implementation. Nothing, simply nothing, can fix a poor sampling
design or insufficient/inappropriate replication. The subtext here is that
stats are great, and need to be done as well as possible, but the data come
first and foremost. Data are real and exist without stats. Stats do not exist
without data. Thus, don’t get too hung up early with trying to be a #STATSHero
– that can come later. Of course, knowledge of the stats you will apply will
greatly aid decisions about experimental design and effort. It is just that you
have to inflate your football before you can throw it. As an aside, it is true
that a #STATSHero will often get lots of publications by helping other students
with their stats and will be a desirable commodity as a postdoc and in many other
contexts. This is all well and good but remember that first-authored
publications are considered much better than a ream of co-authored
publications, and also that effort helping others with their stats can reduce
the time you can devote to your own work. Don’t let good stats come between you
and good data.
YOUR SUPERVISOR IS A COLLABORATOR, NOT A JUDGE.
Many students agonize over the precise details on drafts of proposals and papers that they are producing before showing them to their supervisor. The
undercurrent seems to be that they want to impress their supervisor (a
reasonable sentiment) and thus want their writing to be perfect before she/he
sees it. The reality is that you will
fail in this effort. Your early drafts will NEVER come close to satisfying your
supervisor – but that is the point, really. If your supervisor doesn’t trash
your drafts, then what good are they to you really? The truth is that your
supervisor is best viewed as an experienced and invested collaborator. They are
there to help and that help often involves an entire restructuring or reframing
of your paper, an effort in which they will usually (but not always) be well
informed. Thus, don’t worry so much about making your first (or second or
third) draft perfect because, no matter how hard you try, it won’t look
anything like what you originally wrote after your supervisor gets a hold of
it. Instead, it is much more efficient and less frustrating to get your drafts
to your supervisor in the early stages while they are still quite rough. It
will save everyone a lot of time and stress and will reduce the chances you
will be offended or hurt or crushed by massive changes to something you thought
was great. (Even if your paper is great at the start, it can always be better –
and that is what supervisors try to do: no matter how good the paper is, they
want to make it better.) Before moving on, I need to point out that you should not carry this suggestion to far. That is, supervisors also can get annoyed if
your document is too cursory or incomplete. Do a good job, just don’t strive
for perfection – that comes later.
QUALIFYING EXAMS
Qualifying exams in their various forms are often terrifying
for students, who have to stand at the front of the room playing “guess what’s
in the professor’s head.” Here are some suggestions that can really help get you
through it. First, make sure (if the regulations allow) to talk to all of the committee members well before the exam. Tell
them about your project and ask them what they suggest you should read before
the exam. This is essential because different profs with different backgrounds
often have very different ways of viewing the world and think different ideas
and papers are critical for you to know. No matter how much your supervisor
helps you prepare, they simply can’t intuit what the other examiners might be
thinking. Second, realize from the
beginning that you will NOT know the answer to most of the questions. In
fact, the way these things play out is that professors are specifically seeking
to find out what you DO NOT know. Thus, as soon as it is clear you know the
answer to a particular question, they immediately want to move on to something
else. They are instead probing for what you DON’T know – and they will find it.
Think of it as their attempt to circumscribe the hypervolume of your knowledge so
they can decide if it is large enough to proceed toward a PhD. The definition
of this hypervolume requires, by definition, the exploration of its edges
rather than its center. So relax, you won’t know the answer to many of the
questions, which is fine and the point, really. Third, admit when you don’t know the answer (don’t just blather on about
stuff that you hope is related) but then, whenever possible, say you are
willing to try to figure it out on the fly. Fourth, failure (of the temporary kind) is often a good thing. It gives you
an opportunity to improve your knowledge in key areas and can lead to papers on
its own. In fact, evolutionary biologist Tim Mousseau turned his remedial paper
following a qualifying exam “failure” at McGill into a citation classic.
My Dad's frustration with qualifying exam preparation led him to blast out this poem one afternoon. He posted it on the departmental bulletin board and, apparently, the professors weren't impressed. I would have been.
PRESENTATIONS
Like it or not, success in today’s scientific enterprise
requires (or at least greatly benefits from) not just good science but also a
good “presence.” In fact, after publishing papers, the next most important
skill – yes, even more than becoming a #STATSHero – is to give a great research
presentation. This is true at every level of your career: undergrad, grad,
postdoc, prof. The best way to learn how to give a good presentation is to
practice, practice, practice. By this I mean at conferences, retreats, lab
meetings, etc. – any opportunity you can get. It doesn’t matter so much what
you talk about (don’t worry if you don’t have data) but how you talk about it.
So do it early, do it often, and don’t quit doing it. Before each major
presentation, practice it for fellow students and, if possible, your
supervisor. Lab meetings are great for this. Immediately after a presentation,
ask fellow students and, ideally, your supervisor how you can make it
even better next time. Some of the advice will be technical (less text, simpler
figures, better colours, etc.) and you will gradually adopt what works and
jettison what doesn’t. However, the greatest improvement can come simply from
increasing your comfort level, which increases with the number of times you
give presentations. (If you are petrified by public speaking, think of joining
a debating club or taking acting/theater/performance classes – I think my comfort in speaking stems in
part from performing arts classes taken in high school.)
For evidence that it doesn't have to matter what you say - but how you say it - check out this Chicken Chicken Chicken: Chicken Chicken presentation.
SPEAK OUT
Following from the above idea of a “presence”, participation
in free-form discussions is very important. By this I mean speaking out in
discussions and asking questions in lab meetings and seminars and at conferences.
Becoming comfortable in such contexts is an extremely valuable skill and it
becomes increasingly important as one moves up the career path. For instance,
professors are often expected to have a strong opinion about almost everything.
Moreover, being animated in discussions is a great way to establish
collaborations, develop new ideas, and generally feel connected to your lab,
fellow students, and your department. I have a colleague (Mike Kinnison) who
challenged his students to ask at least one question per talk they saw at a
conference. I think this is a great idea – not just the actual asking but the
preparation for it. If you tell yourself that you are going to ask a question
at the end of a talk, then you find yourself paying much closer attention and
being more critical in your evaluation of the work. Doing so helps you gain a
lot more intellectually from a talk. I suggest you write down at least one
question per talk and try to ask it at the end. I realize that some people are
mortified about speaking out but I can first reassure you that no one ever
thinks anything negative of a student who asks a question – regardless of the
specific question. (Unless it is rude, which you should never do, or unless you
ask too many per talk!) In fact, they are nearly always impressed. So, if you
are in this shy category, find a context where you can feel somewhat
comfortable asking questions, ask as many questions as possible in that
context, then move up to the next context, and keep going.
SIDE PROJECTS
Side projects can be great. They are an opportunity to do
something a bit different from your thesis, often with fellow students or with
postdocs/profs. And, returning to the point about publishing early, they are
often more defined - and therefore easier to publish quickly than your %&#%^$
thesis that has to be integrated across multiple chapters. Of course, too many
side projects can delay your progress and drive your supervisor nuts, so don’t
get too carried away. Indeed, side projects are the bread-and-butter of “doers”
but, for the reasons discussed earlier, doers need to restrain themselves from
too much temptation. The funny part is that side projects are often what people
become known for rather than their major thesis focus, so do follow your muse when
it strikes.
SOCIAL MEDIA
A social media presence through blogging and Twitter is
certainly a way to increase your profile, meet a community of like-minded
scholars, and get tips to important papers. I think every student should be on Twitter and be a part of some blog (not an administrator but rather a contributor).
However, social media is also a big time-suck and so it is critical to not let
it detract from your research. Of course, some people become more famous for
their social media presence than for their science, which feels good but
(usually) does not translate into a career in research. So focus on the research
and use the social media to supplement/promote it and yourself. Some ways to
minimize the negative aspects are to only follow a modest number of accounts
and restrict yourself to only a few tweets per day and posts per month.
http://oncirculation.com/tag/twitter/
TEACHING
Teaching is a valuable part of any graduate program and you should
be certain to do it a bit. Moreover, it can help distinguish you on the job market from someone with an equally-good publication record but no teaching experience. But I suggest not doing it too much (unless you have
to) as I can assure you it comes at a trade-off with progress in research.
Graduate school should be one of the best times of your life. You can help this to happen by being successful, as per the above comments, and by making sure to have fun. Indeed, many of the greatest joys of graduate school come from stuff unrelated to the research. Hell, I learned to fly airplanes while in graduate school and I had a long series of very late nights playing Doom with my office mate (I kicked your butt, Mike!) And the parties. And the fishing and diving trips. And I found my future wife! You obviously need to embrace these activities; and, yet, of course, you can’t get too carried away. You need to make sure that you are progressing in your research. So I guess the other way to say it is “work hard, play hard.”
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