Ramblings | DEZERAECOX

Year in review: 2020 Edition

Sun, 14 Mar 2021 10:40:50 +0000

Year in review: 2020 Edition

2020 was… A year that felt like a decade, but with the productivity of a boozy long weekend. In case you haven’t been on planet earth for the entire year (hello friend, teach me your secrets), it was of course the year in which a coronavirus (specifically SARS-Cov2) emerged and rapidly took over the globe.

The ensuing pandemonium was slow to build, and even slower to resolve. In fact, most countries around the world are still living with some form of social restrictions aimed at controlling transmission and preventing severe infection. We’ve since entered a recession, predicted by many to be the largest since the global financial crisis. Most importantly, many people lost their lives to the virus, and many more still have a severe and long-lasting illness.

I am fortunate enough to live in a country with very low infection rates and virtually no community transmission, and so life has returned to a post-virus normal. But (of course, there is always a but) to achieve this hefty goal, we as a community endured the longest and harshest lockdown conditions seen anywhere around the globe for almost a year. Make no mistake; it was essential and worthwhile. However, it was also eye-opening, isolating, disruptive and challenging. And as well as being a bench biologist who couldn’t get to the bench, I faced the lockdown separated by state borders from my partner, family and friends. To say it was mentally tough would be a colossal understatement, and despite this I am well aware of many who faced worse than me.

So, in acknowledging that no two experiences of 2020 were alike, I decided to stick with my traditional by-the-numbers account of the past year. You’ll find wins few and far between, more than a handful of losses, and a list of goals that looked a little different from start to finish. Finally, I look to the future and set my sights on recovery in 2021.

Wins

A snapshot of the high points

I survived 2020. I think that certainly belongs in the win column, don’t you?
I read three books, and reviewed one.
I published five blog posts totalling 6500 words, which were viewed 1557 times by 833 different visitors from more than 10 countries
I contributed my first to an online publication
I published my first , providing analysis tools for researchers considering applying for NHMRC funding
I worked over 2500 hours, more than 40% of which went towards submitting my first first-author postdoctoral paper for review to a top-tier journal
Five manuscripts I contributed to were officially published
I slept an average of 7 hours and 5 minutes
I overhauled my entire organisation system, from code to experiments to publications
I created and published not but science-communication videos as part of my first official scicomm training worskhop
I organised and hosted 17 Departmental seminars from a diverse group of researchers spanning career stages and countries - and made a successful transition to virtual when the pandemic hit!
I gave 2 invited seminars, and attended 3 virtual conferences

Losses

A not-so-snappy shot of the low points

Another year with no published first-author manuscripts, despite furiously writing for most of the year
My first-author paper was rejected from 4 different journals before even being sent out for peer review
Almost one fifth of the hours I worked were spent on emails and other administrative tasks
I didn’t write a single grant or application
I downloaded 1084 papers, and read less than 10% of them
I started 4 books that I didn’t finish
I didn’t publish blog posts in 7 out of 12 months
My coding projects are still still in a state of disarray, in desperate need of a tidy and some documentation
I only averaged 3817 steps per day
I was, perhaps, 50% productive on any given day

Lessons

The bits I wish I knew at the start of 2020, but had to learn the hard way.

Selfish isn’t a dirty word - for much of 2020 I struggled with the feeling of being a bad friend, bad partner, bad lab mate, bad family member as I weathered the storm of Victoria’s lockdown alone. I was lonely, unhealthy, unmotivated and struggling to keep my head above water and still I felt uncommitted to the many relationships in my life I let languish during this period. But in reality, I didn’t have anything to give - and I needed to be selfish, to rebuild my own mental health, to redefine my sense of self in this weird and wonderful (?) new world we were suddenly inhabiting. And it took me a long time to be ok with this idea of a self-centred approach to wellbeing. After all, you can’t pour from an empty cup.
Working from home and living at work are two entirely separate things - At the start of 2020 there was an abundance of tips about productive workspaces, setting routines, engaging in your normal ready-for-work activities, setting aside time each day to step away from work…. As someone who has had the luxury of a few work-from-home days in the past that yielded astounding levels of productivity, I was initially optimistic about the opportunities a few onths of working from home presented. It was only a few weeks into what would turn out to be a year long work-from-home order, before I realised how sorely mistaken I was. This was not the quiet, focused time I had enjoyed pre-pandemic, but clouded, overcast and gloomy time spent doom-scrolling, feeling unengaged and unenthusiastic about the prospect of another day spent alone in my home-office. It was a few months in that I came across the phrase living at work, and it struck home how insidiously this transition had happened. Despite having a separate work space, work never really left my home space in the way that I could leave the work office, and I came to realise how important the role of our choice is in this regard.
Variety is the spice of life - Ok, I know this one is a little cliché. And yet, if you’d asked me a year ago I would have adamantly told you that I am a person who is fond of organisation, planning and routines. From breakfast meals to shampoo brands to pens to friends - I am a creature of habit. I know what I like, and I surround myself with it. I structure my time. I plan and organise weeks, months, years in advance and I work toward goals with almost singular focus. And yet, this year almost every single one of those things was thrown completely out the window. It was impossible to plan a week in advance (or even a day sometimes). I found myself missing those spontaneous interruptions to my calendar or walks for coffee with random colleagues during the day. I missed the variety of faces on the tram each morning, and instead sought out variety in walking routes to new cafes for lunch as a poor surrogate. Most vividly I missed the usual spontaneity of a week in bench research science. Normally, each day is subtly different - a different experiment, or technique, this meeting versus that meeting, a new piece of code to work on or a new manuscript to write. Instead of this variety, life became a blur of zoom meetings, trudging forward on a single manuscript, and trying desperately to halt my doom-scrolling as we awaited daily case numbers and press conferences. I will never again take for granted the motivation a varied work day brings to my passion for science.

Goals

As with much about 2020, my goals unfortunately went promptly out the window around June. Even still, I finally submitted the first of three first-author postdoctoral research papers, and successfully created a growing community of Happy Hacker scientists who are learning to code. I started semi-regular yoga and implemented a new morning routine focused on engaging mindfully with the day ahead. While my writing here lagged severely, those posts I managed to write and publish are some of those I am most proud of. None of these things went according to plan, and it certainly wasn’t a glamorous insta-worthy road to ticking boxes. And yet, here we are, moving forward ever so slightly. So where to from here?

Papers are paramount. Déjà vu aside, with drafts still floating around in various states of disarray the first half of 2021 demands some serious focus on wrapping up the next two manuscripts. Using structured writing time of at least twenty hours a week, my goal is to have submitted the remaining two manuscripts before starting my next postdoctoral position mid-year. While last year writing sessions were often sidetracked by more ‘pressing’ needs, this year I will plan each session in advance, using calendar entries for accountability and a master task list for assigning goals and tracking progress.
Revamp the reading routine. Last year I hinted at a timely review of how I consume scientific literature. I’ve often pushed reading to the end of my to-do list and settled for skimming daily email alerts or saving an article or two from Twitter with some handwavy expectation of actually reading them. Instead, I want to not only find time for an engaged reading practice but also give myself space to really think about what I am reading, parlaying this into more (and better!) scientific insights. I will implement two reading sessions per week, drawing pre-selected articles from my ever-growing pile of exciting new material. This will be tracked using a database, which simultaneously enables detailed cross-connection between individual resources and developing insights and ideas within overarching project themes.
Commit to coding cleanup. One of the few positives to come from a year of working from home, coupled with a freshly-submitted manuscript combing computational analyses of wet-lab experiments, was a rapid expansion and solidification of my amateur coding skills. I am often pleasantly surprised when I realise just how far these skills have developed, and it makes me even more excited to pass them on during Hacky Hours each week. And yet, two packages I first wrote more than four years ago still languish, lacking love and in desperate need of refactoring. This is the year I commit to cleaning up these packages. I will spend an hour each week tackling small chucks, which will be tracked using GitHub issues and measured in milestones.
Invest in intentional. Sometimes a week can pass by and I barely realise due to a blur of endless triaging. These type of weeks tend to feel like an old-school cartoon where my wheels are spinning yet the car is going nowhere fast. My goal is to understand (and correct) my balance between the urgent but unimportant tasks that often fill my day (hellloooo email, I’m looking at you…), and the essential but non-urgent tasks that will be of most tangible benefit long term. Beyond task management, I will start each morning by writing down three intentions for the day, using these to anchor how my time is spent and as a record for reflection. I will also frame these intentions within the time management matrix, to ensure I am investing in long term progress by hitting small milestones each and every day.

2020 was without a doubt challenging and confronting and, just between you and I, 2021 was not looking to be off to a great start. After handing over my role in Melbourne and leaping out of my comfort zone, I landed in limbo - awaiting a revised start date for my international Fellowship, unemployed and uncertain of my direction for the first time in over a decade. And yet, here I am daring the universe by setting goals for the year ahead. From here, 2021 is about regrouping, recovering and recalibrating, readying for reentry to the world post-COVID. And I couldn’t be happier to have you along for the ride.

Image credits: @brookelark via

Learning to code: it's as easy and as complex as that.

Sun, 05 Jul 2020 15:12:56 +0000

Learning to code: it’s as easy and as complex as that.

Many life scientists have used their time under pandemic-induced lockdown to learn their first programming language. Yay! Coding has many many advantages (reproducibility, more complex analyses, reusability, time-saving) that I have espoused all too many times before.

Many people start with a tutorial or two, then jump straight in and analyse a dataset. They get a plot, maybe a few statistics and voila! They are now scientists who can code.

Kinda.

See, the thing is there is more (much more) to implementing programmatic workflows in a biological context. Unfortunately, these are the skills that intro-to-programming courses often fail to teach you (or sometimes even mention) - but without them, adding scripts to your workflow can often make your work less reproducible, not more. For the sake of the argument, lets pick one.

Version control.

Imagine a bowl of spaghetti (lots of lines of code), which you admire briefly before throwing at a canvas (your interpreter). You create a beautiful work of art (your plot), and stand back to admire your handiwork. Maybe you show it to a few friends, and they are super impressed. (Awesome!). And then they ask - how did you do it? Not just the throwing motion, or the rough distance between the bowl and the canvas. They want to know the precise location of every single strand of spaghetti in the bowl before you threw it at the canvas. They want to know the recipe you used for the sauce, down to the precise number of grams of oregano.

Now, of course, we aren’t actually talking about a bowl of spaghetti - we are talking about your code. So - of course - you can simply show them the script! Huzzah! The precise instructions that enabled you to make that very specific plot. But here’s the kicker. The code is not static. In fact, chances are that you poured over it for hours (maybe days) adjusting, tweaking, changing, testing and rerunning - all to get the glorious, awe-inspiring plot at the end.

By this stage, you’ve probably made over 100 spaghetti-splattered-spectacles (plots) and your house is starting to smell like an Italian Pizza joint. If I asked you to produce the exact recipe, down to the very position of each strand of spaghetti, for plot number 47 - could you do it?

My guess is probably no.

Conducting experiments is at the heart of science. However, without the essential extracurricular activities like maintaining backups, organising your results files and optimising project management systems, you wouldn’t last very long in academic research. The same is true of coding. Learning to write a functioning script is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to implementing reproducible computing workflows in biology.

So, with this in mind, what are those all important skills you ask? Well, luckily, far more experienced scholars than I have written on this topic and provided guides (like and ) for those starting out in the computational space. These are highly applicable to biologists learning to code, and I encourage you to check them out before you stray too far down the spaghetti-on-the-wall path (like I did). As with any system, it is easiest to implement new routines before you have become to set in the old ones! At the very least, here are a few things to consider:

, including Github/GitLab/BitBucket
, including efficient folder layouts
and docker containers
practices
, including repositories and citing software you use

For more, make sure you check out the resources below.

Oh, and one last thing.

Unfortunately, this type of organisational work is not typically measured as a key performance outcome for biologists. Your number of git repositories or test coverage for an analysis suite is unlikely to come up in an award nomination or promotion application. And yet, it is entirely crucial as we move toward bigger and more complicated data and analyses - and so I encourage you to take the time to learn anyway. Maybe one day it will be recognised as essential work by the powers that be - but until then, at the very least, it remains essential for anyone wanting to do good reproducible science. And who doesn’t want that?

Final thoughts

So you want to learn to code? Yes - do it, 100%. I honestly couldn’t recommend or encourage it more. But please do so mindfully. If you want to have the best possible chance of integrating this wonderful tool into your scientific ecosystem in the long-term, you have to lay solid foundations and develop sustainable practice/methods.

Have you used any of these techniques as a budding bench-to-bytes biologist? Find me on or head over to the to tell me more!

Resources:

Image credits: Tomwsulcer via & olamishchenko via

Lorne Proteins 2020

Sat, 08 Feb 2020 05:19:01 +0000

Lorne Proteins 2020

If you’ve landed here after checking out my poster , welcome. If you stumbled here by accident, the more the merrier. Either way, thanks for stopping by!

I hope you found something interesting or useful, and enjoyed hearing about the work we are doing to develop new tools for measuring proteostasis. If you have any questions, want to know more about what we do, or simply want to get in touch, you can find me on twitter head over to the .

For anyone who wasn’t at the conference, or didn’t get a chance to say hi, I have included a brief run-down (and tried to skip over most of the gory – boring, technical – details!).

What’s all this proteostasis business?

Cells have an extensive quality control network responsible for maintaining their molecular machines, including synthesis, folding, degradation and transport

\[1\]

. Collectively, this machinery is known as the proteostasis network. Proteostasis imbalance results in protein misfolding and aggregation, the central molecular signature of neurodegenerative diseases such as Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s.

We lack knowledge of which proteins in the cell become vulnerable to improper folding during proteostasis imbalance. One measure of protein foldedness is the extent to which a protein can be unfolded thermally or with a chemical denaturant such as urea. Until recently, it has been difficult to track foldedness in cells due to sheer complexity of the many ten’s of thousands of proteins and proteoforms needed for our cells to function.

To overcome this, this work specifically aimed to:

Devise a chemical biology and proteomics approach to monitor the foldedness of the proteome.
Determine the influence of pharmacological agents that unbalance proteostasis on proteome foldedness.

What is tetraphenylethene maleimide, other than a tongue twister?!

Tetraphenylethene maleimide (TPE-MI) is a dye (tetraphenylethene maleimide) that becomes fluorescent when it binds to reactive thiol residues

\[2\]

. Buried, reactive thiols are the most buried residue of all amino acids in globular (properly folded) proteins. Monitoring the exposure of these thiols using TPE-MI gives us a sensitive way to probe foldedness in complex mixtures.

To test this strategy, we used a purified, well-studied protein – β-lactoglobulin. We know both the sequence and 3D structure of this protein, and its behaviour in a range of denaturants is known. β-lactoglobulin has 5 thiol residues, of which two pairs are bonded and the remaining one (Cys121) is buried in the core of the folded protein. As β-lactoglobulin unfolds in increasing concentrations of denaturant, we get a corresponding increase in TPE-MI fluorescence.

But what about the giant protein soup our cells make, I hear you ask…

While TPE-MI can reliably tell us about the unfolding of a single, purified protein, our cells are jam-packed with thousands of copies of thousands of different proteins. How can we possibly know which proteins TPE-MI is binding to?

Enter: proteomics. This revolutionary tool is a workflow based on mass spectrometry which can report back on the composition of complex mixtures – both which proteins are present, and the relative amount of that protein. The basics of this technique are beyond the scope of this post, but if you are looking for more details check out the resources section below

\[3-5\]

. I have included a brief explanation of the method we use below, which relies on isotopically labelling cells in culture before lysing, denaturing and labelling with TPE-MI. Proteins are digested (chopped up) into regular, smaller pieces before analysis via mass spectrometry.

Using custom software, we can identify and quantify protein pieces. Unfortunately, we cannot identify the protein pieces specifically labelled with TPE-MI, but instead, we look for the loss of those pieces. We can do this for many many proteins and start to understand the concentration at which specific proteins unfold. We can even start to understand intricacies in unfolding for separate protein domains.

How does this help us understand disease mechanisms?

This new method now provides a way to monitor how the stability of proteins (measured how much denaturant it takes to unfold them) changes under conditions of proteostasis impairment that are present in disease. For example, we are now investigating the changes in proteome foldedness when we inhibit hubs of the proteostasis network such as molecular chaperones. How do the proteins that rely on specific molecular chaperones to be folded change when those proteins are no longer active? What if we stop the cell from degrading old proteins? Or from decorating their proteins with extra modifications that mediate structure and activity like phosphorylation? Defects in this machinery are common in neurodegenerative protein aggregation diseases and we now have the tools to start tackling these questions.

References and handy links

Chiti F, Dobson CM (2017) . Annu Rev Biochem 86: 27–68.
Chen MZ, Moily NS, Bridgford JL, Wood RJ, Radwan M, Smith TA, Song Z, Tang BZ, Tilley L, Xu X, Reid GE, Pouladi MA, Hong Y, Hatters DM (2017) . Nat Commun 8: 1–10.
Lottspeich, F. (2009). . In Proteomics (pp. 3-10). Humana Press.
Graves, P. R., & Haystead, T. A. (2002). . Microbiology and molecular biology reviews, 66(1), 39-63.

That’s all from me for now. Still can’t get enough or want to know more? Simply want to get in touch? Find me on twitter head over to the - love to hear from you! Now, back to the beach 🏄🌴☀️ !

A year in review: 2019 edition

Fri, 31 Jan 2020 12:46:00 +0000

The holiday season is a time of reflection for many, me included. However, this was heightened this year, and somewhat hijacked, by the looming start of a new decade.

While there are plenty of discussions of why 2019 isn’t the end of the decade (like , and ), it did little to stem the tide of ten-year progress reports flooding . These outpourings of academic (and personal) success are often incredible and inspirational, but can also be overwhelming and disheartening for those of us who feel less accomplished.

So as is tradition, I decided to stick with my by-the-numbers account of the past year. You’ll find some wins, a handful of losses, and a few goals that looked a little different from start to finish. Finally, I look to the future and set my sights on kicking brand new goals in 2020.

Wins

A snapshot of the high points

I contributed to 4 manuscripts, of which 3 were posted as preprints
I completed my first independently-funded research project using funds totalling $40 000
I was awarded ~ $10 000 in travel awards
I attended 4 national and 2 international conferences
I presented 5 research talks, 2 posters and chaired an academic career development panel
I gave my first invited research seminar at my alma matta
I was awarded an international post-doctoral fellowship (!)
I performed over 45 (mostly week-long) experiments in just 159 working days, and over 75% of these gave useable results
I wrote or edited over 30 000 lines of code
I was an active member of 4 conference and professional committees, and an ordinary member of 4 professional societies
I directly supervised 3 students and informally mentored at least 4 others
I attended a 5-day leadership course, making 5 new connections that have blossomed into 3 new collaborative relationships
I accounted for each of my working days by posting a reflection to a purpose-built Instagram profile, receiving a total of 3191 likes
I authored 10 blog posts containing a total of 14 642 words, which received 5437 views from 3849 visitors across 36 different countries - more than half of these views were on a single post after I shared it with the Twitterverse!
I slept an average of 7 hours a night, did an average 6260 steps per day, and lost 12 kilograms
I read 1 1/2 more books than last year and completed 1/4 of my first ever attempt at cross stitch
I gave my very first tech talk at a local meetup group
I travelled to 3 countries and explored 5 new cities, and took 2571 photos
I spent 365 days being a partner, sister, colleague and friend - being a happy, (mostly!) healthy human

Losses

A snappier shot of the low points

Only one manuscript made it through the review process to be published
None of my first-author manuscripts are any closer to being submitted
Of the 431 papers I downloaded, I read less than 10% of them in full
I am not proud of my ‘bedside manner’, as I was impatient and frequently frustrated with students
I spent over 50 hours preparing 5 unsuccessful grant or fellowship applications
My coding projects are still in a state of disarray, in desperate need of a tidy and some documentation
I only read 3 1/2 books and put 12 kilograms back on
There were days where I barely slept 4 hours and struggled to make 1000 steps
I only took 11 days of leave, and was fuelled by stress and anxiety far more often than passion and curiosity

Lessons

The bits I wish I knew at the start of 2019, but had to learn the hard way.

You have to crawl before you can walk - academic conferences are great, especially the chance to travel internationally. However, you have to have the time and effort already committed to a project to have something new and interesting to present, and in turn to make the most out of the experience.
Time tracking - the more you know! There are already people using your personal data to sell you shoes and expensive holidays - why not use your personal data for good, not evil? Late in 2019, I started tracking how I spend my workday (keep an eye out for more details coming soon!), helping me refocus on my goals, dedicate productive time to important work and better plan my time for specific activities according to how long it had taken in the past.
The sunk-cost fallacy - Sometimes you have to cut your losses and move on, despite having invested so much time and effort and energy into one particular thing. If it’s not right, or not happening, maybe it never will be. And that’s ok - sometimes you have to empty some space to leave room for the next great thing, whether that’s the next big experiment or project, or the next townhouse or friendship. However…
Perseverance is key - every application makes your next application better. Although, being privileged enough to be able to persevere is a huge source of diversity challenge in academia. Appreciate when you have the option to continue chasing a dream, and not just when that dream becomes reality.
Decisions are hard - and making them can change the course of your life immediately, even in how you feel about the people around you.
Some people will never understand - and that’s on them, not you. Living your best life is unlikely to please everyone, so live a life you’re proud of and whether others understand your path or not is irrelevant.

Goals

This time last year I set some goals. This was a new approach to goal-setting for me, and I’m pleased that it worked (moderately) well! Physical activity was a consistent focus - even if only a short walk in the afternoon, I was conscious of the link between how my brain and body feel. I made substantial progress on building reflective practices and, last but not least, I landed the next job!

Building on this foundation, here are my goals for 2020

1. Papers are paramount. With a looming international move, I have a little over six months to tie-up all my projects and get my first-author manuscripts over the line. My goal is to finalise three publication-ready first-author manuscripts by April. With drafts floating around in various states of disarray, I will use structured writing time for at least eight hours a week to make focused progress. I will use calendar entries for accountability and maintain a master task list for tracking progress. I would also like to reorganise my reading and writing process and systems, but that’s a goal for another time!

2. Hacking hand-over. Part of the leadership course I attended encouraged us to think about ourselves as changemakers. This could result from our science, or more broadly our leadership, but nonetheless we were to imagine what change we wanted to make in the world over the next year. Then we had to plan it. Who would we connect with? What skills/tools did we need? I have always been a passionate advocate for programming for life scientists, and I would love to be the catalyst for this in our institute - to take the plan I sketched on paper (yes - real-life butchers paper!) and put it into action. My goal is to establish a local hacky hour at my institute, bringing together experienced, amateur and coding-curious researchers in a collaborative space to learn from each other. I will gather a small working group of researchers experienced in programming by the end of February, where we will brainstorm the best structure, location and time for meetups. The action items from that meeting will serve as a task list for tracking progress, and I will coordinate at least three hacky hours before handing over the reins when I move.

3. Blog better. Despite averaging one post per month last year, I felt there was a lack of substance with so many conference wrapups and few useful, practical or probative posts. The one obvious exception was a rather popular commentary on the state of NHMRC Investigator Grants. This was a combination of an important issue and a good coding project, and I would love to produce more content like this in the future. My goal is to continue posting at least once per month, of which half will pursue practical or probative themes. This will be easily tracked by my posting record here, so feel free to help me stay accountable!

4. Healthy is happy, and mindfulness matters. As I approach another decade of life (that’s right, a big three-oh this year), I am starting to appreciate that a healthy body and mind is not really something you can achieve. There is no box to tick to say you are done, and there isn’t really a finish line. A commitment to maintaining your physical and psychological health is lifelong, and relapses will happen when you aren’t paying attention. My goal is to recover my healthy habits, focusing on yoga and reflections once a week. My progress will be easily tracked by my health app (thanks technology!), and I will continue to maintain my purpose-built Instagram account with weekly posts. For the safety of me and my lab mates, that account will stay anonymous - but it serves as a neat record for me at least!

2019 was undoubtedly one of the hardest, but most rewarding years yet. Just when I finally felt comfortable in my space and role in Melbourne, I landed an international Fellowship - a huge win that is equal parts exciting and terrifying. As they say, life begins at the edge of your comfort zone. So here’s to an adventurous, unknown 2020 - may it be filled with science, self-exploration and smiles.

Image credits: @brookelark via

Investigating the Investigator Grants 2019

Mon, 30 Sep 2019 01:26:50 +0000

Introduction

The hottest topic on Australian researchers lips this month has been the recent NHMRC Investigator Grant announcement. After all the commotion around the new scheme and the distribution of research dollars, I set about flexing my data-science muscles to see what the outcomes of the scheme were overall, and what a successful application might look like for the next round.

What are Investigator Grants?

If you are a scientific researcher in Australia, chances are you were aware of the NHMRC announcement a few weeks ago of their latest round of funding. For those who are outside health-focused research, this was a highly-anticipated announcement after a complete re-structure of the NHMRC Funding Schemes over the previous year. The reform included replacing the Fellowship system (funds to support individual researchers to establish their own research programme) under the unified banner of Investigator Grants.

Historically, previous incarnations of these Fellowships (Early Career, Career Development and Research Fellowships) have supported the very best and brightest researchers in Australia with varying levels of lottery-luck in their award. Importantly, having been successful at the first rungs on the Fellowship ladder, researchers were then much more likely to gain the next level of support. Therefore, the award of these Fellowships to emerging researchers is a crucial support system that could make or break a career.

In particular, the lists better support for Early and Mid-Career Researchers (EMCRs) as a key goal of their reform:

Early and mid-career researchers are being discouraged from pursuing a research career.
\[…\]
In response to these issues, NHMRC reviewed the structure of its research funding and has reformed its grant program.

NHMRC, 2019

Why the fuss?

For researchers who spend many (many) weeks (months) working on the application for these schemes, the outcomes are of intense interest. The research funding environment in Australia is extremely competitive, and often the difference between funded and not funded can be little more than pot-luck. Early reports during the peer review process this year suggested that the new scheme had an abundance of issues and was likely to be even more of a lottery than previous years.

After the announcement, scientists flooded Twitter with their thoughts, interpretations and statistical analysis of the overall outcomes. There were many deserving people who were lucky enough to make the grade this time around. However, there were also an abundance of leading researchers who missed out and cursory analyses highlighted an abundance of inequities and unforeseen results of the reform.

_Sheldrick/status/1166908265743015936

_keating/status/1166886599482724352

Many of the numbers you will see online come from the key performance data released by the NHMRC (data on gender, age and state awardee rates has been made available since at least 2013). It is my firm belief that, as scientists, we should use science (including data science) to drive our decision making. The trends reveal biases/underlying issues in the grant scheme, and provide rationale/direction for additional reform. In addition, the profile of previously successful applicants can help researchers like myself understand how we fit within the scheme and, according to whether (or not) we fit the profile, inform our decision to apply in the next round (which is not that far away!).

Crunching the numbers

Most of the raw data used in this analysis came from the . I collected some extra data on the Field of Research codes and individual researchers from additional sources including the and .

After initial cleaning of the raw data, I decided to equate the new and old schemes by ‘matching’ the tiers as best as possible. According to a fact sheet provided by the , equivalent schemes are as follows: Early Career Fellowships map to Emerging Leadership level 1, Career Development Fellowships map to Emerging Leadership level 2, and Research Fellowships map to Leadership levels.

Due to differences in eligibility (according to years post-PhD) as shown above, the correlation is not perfect. But it serves the purpose of being able to compare as the NHMRC intended at least.

For the nitty-gritty details of the number crunching and visualisation techniques that went into the makings of this post, be sure to check out the post soon. If you’re simply here for the pretty pictures and insights, read on!

Key insights

Overall trends

At first glance, it appears as though the new investigator scheme has seen an injection of more money into the Fellowships portion of NHMRC funding. However, this funding includes more money per person at the upper tiers without a substantial increase in the number of applications funded. Moreover, the number of successfully funded applications and dollars was skewed toward the Leadership levels with an overall decline in the number of level 1 and 2 (Emerging Leader) applications funded.

The decline in the number of applications funded was matched by a substantial increase in the number of applications submitted, leading to a nosedive in the success rates particularly in the EL2 and L1 brackets. This increase in applications was thought to reflect the changes in eligibility structure meaning everyone had a go and often at levels far below what was appropriate for their research experience. The NHMRC is reported to be hopeful the number of applicants will decrease in the next round (thus artificially inflating the success rate).

Location, location, location!

With the conglomerate of research institutes, personnel and equipment in Melbourne, it has always been tough to beat in funding success. The same was true of this year, with Victoria the overwhelming leader in the number of awarded applications and second-highest success rate. In fact, Victoria received more than 45% of the awarded Fellowships in 2019.

The large number of applications originating in Victoria, coupled with their high success rate, suggests that not only is there a critical mass of outstanding researchers concentrated around the Melbourne biomedical hubs, but that they benefited immensely from the support processes in place in the lead up to submission. Hopefully, other institutes around the country can find value in their strategies for the following rounds.

Gauging the gender gap

Gender has always been a touchy topic when it comes to Fellowship funding in Australia, especially at the later stages of academia. There were concerted efforts made to target gender equality in the new scheme. However, at first glance, there was an enormous bias in the total number and dollars awarded. In fact, this disparity is the worst that the Fellowships scheme has seen in the last five years.

If we dig a little deeper, it becomes clear that this skew is due mainly to biases in the upper tier of the scheme. In fact, at the first and second tiers (level 1 and 2), there has been progress toward equality and, in some cases, even over-representation of women for the last five years. However, the successful males outnumber females two to one at the highest tier (level 3).

Two to one. The new scheme, if anything, has made this worse with the proportion of awards for women the lowest it has been since 2015. This points toward a systemic issue with how relative to opportunity is assessed and the lack of support for women entering the upper echelons of academia that is still ingrained in the research culture in Australia. Moreover, the extended 5-year term of these awards means that these differences will permeate University faculty for many years to come.

Titles and track records

As a general benchmark, academic titles say something about a researcher’s seniority. Considering the distribution of titles among successful awardees, there is a clear trend toward more and more senior researchers finding success at lower levels of the Fellowship scheme. For example, Associate Professors have taken a share of the level 1 funding for the last two years and for the first time, there was an Emeritus Professor awarded level 3 funding in 2019.

Similar trends can be seen in the track record of successful awardees, especially their publication history. While this is imperfect due to author name mismatches, overall the median number of publications for level 2 awardees has held steady around 50. In contrast, level 3 saw a sharp increase this year for the first time. The median number of publications for level 1 awardees has also steadily increased, meaning that to be competitive ECRs now need on average twice as many publications as they did 5 years ago.

With the revamp of funding levels and removal of specific ‘years-post-PhD’ ranges for level 1 and 2, this was always a concern. While I have (many, many) issues with using the years-post-PhD award as a ruler to measure relative success, at the bare minimum I do believe this distinction helped stratify junior researchers in the eyes of reviewers and assisted their assessment relative to opportunity. Unfortunately, the lack of boundaries this year left many researchers unsure of the appropriate level of funding they should apply for and moreover allowed many to take advantage of the lower levels in the scheme. This placed a large responsibility on reviewers to fairly evaluate an individuals trajectory against others with up to 10 years longer in research. A big ask!

Trendy topics

With every application, researchers include up to five keyword phrases describing the focus of their proposed research. By looking at the most popular keywords, I wanted to understand the research themes attracting the most funding and potentially consider how this has evolved over the last few years.

2015 keywords

2019 keywords

Interestingly, the top five keywords for the previous five years have typically been some iteration of health, disease, biology and cancer. While these seem very general, reading between the lines reveals a transition from ‘disease’-driven research to ‘health’-centric. Interestingly, epidemiology has emerged as a prominent focus this year. Cancer research has also held a steady proportion of funded applications, suggesting an area of high priority either among reviewers or impressive researchers embedded in this field.

What is unclear from these trends is the type of research being funded in these proposals. This is captured in the NHMRC reporting process as ‘broad research themes’. Traditionally, fundamental (Basic) research has held a large share of the total funding. However, the last five years have seen a steady decline in this proportion and a corresponding increase in the more translational themes.

In particular, clinical medicine and science enjoyed a sizeable bump in the proportion of funding awarded such that it has almost reached parody with basic science. This likely stems from the strong emphasis on ‘research impact’ that permeates all aspects of the new scheme, and at face value is not terribly alarming. However, our translational research must be underpinned by quality fundamental understanding and our ability to fund this type of research from the NHMRC scheme appears to be questionable in the future.

What does this mean for science, and ECRs, in Australia?

Overall, there has been a shift toward more senior and established researchers in all three levels of award. This is not merely a consequence of the new scheme, but has definitely been accentuated by it. This is likely reflective of the desire to invest in researchers who can demonstrate their previous impact has a direct and immediate public benefit.

This is also reflected in the share of the pie gobbled up by each of the four broad research areas, where Clinical and Medical Science has seen a steady increase at the expense of Basic Science.

While I made every effort to take a comprehensive snapshot of the available awardee data, these insights were limited in part by fragmentation of the data. The raw data provided by the NHMRC includes summary totals e.g. by gender or by state, but often the per-applicant information, due to obvious privacy reasons, is not available.

Some of the missing data, such as the years-post-PhD for successful applicants, could, in theory, be provided anonymously and would provide tremendous insight for potential applicants. At this stage, the closest proxy for years post-PhD is the mean age of awardees (although this as a measure is complicated by relative to opportunity). This year the mean age for level 1 awardees increased from 35 in 2018 to 37, agreeing with the overall sentiment of increasing seniority among successful applicants. With the restructuring in 2019, the NHMRC has all but done away with the ECR funding dedicated for those entering the postdoctoral workforce and require us instead to relying on the provision of project funding by senior researchers for many years before being deemed worthy and ‘impactful’.

There have been a number of statements released by associations commenting on this and other perceived failures of the new scheme, and suggesting changes to overcome these issues. For example, the released a host of recommendations aimed at alleviating many of the pain points ranging from the application structure to review processes. However, the short turnaround time (given applications for the next round open tomorrow and close in a little under two months) means that these recommendations are extremely unlikely to be implemented until next year. Moreover, this is a general and of research funding schemes world-wide. At this point, like so many other ECRs in my position, it is now time for me to think about whether my time, energy and effort are best placed in the hands of the NHMRC, other Australian funding schemes or - like so many in my position - whether I should instead focus on opportunities abroad. In the spirit of data-driven decision making, hopefully these insights have helped guide your thoughts as they have mine.

Resources

The original data was sourced from the
For more on the initial guidelines provided during the scheme restructure, check out the
Author track record information, including publication number and field-weighted citation impact, were collected from . If you are considering an application in the upcoming round, it’s a great idea to benchmark yourself against previous successful applicants.
For more info on the specific number crunching and data visualisation techniques used here, don’t forget to keep an eye out for my post.

Are you thinking of applying in the next round of Investigator Grants? Did any of these stats surprise you, or were they helpful in your decision of whether or not to apply in the next round? Head over to the , or let me know on .

Image credits: inspecting gears with magnifying glass | @ pluyer via

Toolbox Talk: Scientific posters

Tue, 30 Jul 2019 10:39:57 +0000

Going to a large, often international, conference jam-packed with superstars in your field is one of the privileges of being a scientist. Conferences are essential for building your network, keeping up-to-date with the progress inside your niche and more broadly in your field, and establishing or maintaining collaborations. If you’d like to know more about my conference experiences, check out . I was lucky enough to attend and present short talks at a few conferences in 2017, and it was a wonderful opportunity to show the scientific community what I have been working on.

However, there are only so many oral presenter slots available at such events, and often these are used by the organising committee to highlight the very best and newest science. But what about the rest of us? It can be really difficult to get the most out of a conference, especially as a student, if you don’t have an opportunity to showcase your work. Enter: poster presentations.

Wait, like in elementary school?

If you are thinking of a giant piece of butcher’s paper, covered with scribbles in multi-coloured permanent markers, you aren’t too far wrong. But things have evolved a little since the school days, and we do have slightly more developed tools for displaying our work these days. Unfortunately, making an engaging scientific poster is often not something we are formally prepared for during our scientific training. We are being moulded into the next generation of scientists, after all - what no one tells you is that artist is just one of the many additional hats that you will wear often as your career progresses.

With this in mind, I thought I would share a little about my process and tools for making an engaging poster. It is by no means a one-stop-shop, as every time I make a new poster I learn a little more about the process, but hopefully, you will find something useful as you prepare for that next science-filled conference adventure.

Tools

There are plenty of purpose-built design software packages out there specifically for making commercial posters, and some even targetted at producing scientific visuals. I have included a few links in the additional resources, but to be honest, I have had mixed success with these - if you find any that I have missed or that you’ve found particularly helpful to let me know!

In the meantime, I have settled on a combination of a freely-available vector graphics program (Inkscape) for compiling individual panels into standalone figures and presentation software (e.g. or ) for the overall poster design. If you haven’t heard of vector graphics programs before, or are unsure why you might want to use one, you can read more . In essence, because of the way they are constructed, vector graphics are easy to manipulate and can be scaled indefinitely without losing their quality as they are not composed of pixels, in contrast to the raster-based file types jpeg and png.

For data-laden figure panels, I will usually stick with python or (if you are interested in this, check out some of my other toolbox posts ). For any work dealing with protein structure, is your friend. The learning curve can be quite steep (I am only just now mastering the basics of opening a structure file, editing the colours and changing the display type from ball and stick to ribbon!) but it is relatively easy to produce a striking visual that will aid in any handwavy descriptions of a protein’s structure. Keep an eye out for my beginner’s basic guide to PyMol in a future Toolbox Talk!

Last, but definitely not least, I use a to create a link to this website. Even if the name is not familiar, I am sure that you would have come across in the wild before - they are a type of matrix barcode that links to a website or application when scanned with a smartphone camera. There are plenty of free online platforms for creating your own QR codes, and many that give you the ability to adjust the shape and colour of the individual elements, however be careful to know the difference between static (meaning you have no flexibility to adjust where the link directs after printing) or dynamic (that contain an automatic redirect which you can adjust after printing) to make sure you get one that suits your particular needs. I have found this especially handy for posters - by encoding your contact details or link to your website, it is easy for conference attendees to get in touch without having to hastily scribble down your email on their crumbled napkin.

Techniques and tips

Even the most exciting and life-changing data can find itself on a poor poster. There are many unwritten (and written) rules for making an engaging and eye-catching scientific poster, and many more experienced people than I have written guidelines and tips, some of which you can find in the resources section below. In any case, I thought I would throw in a few of my trusty tips here:

Layouts should be simple and easy to follow. I find that creating boxes to guide the reader through the poster in a logical fashion can be helpful. Remember a poster is about walking someone through your science and stories that jump backwards and forwards can make it hard to stay engaged. As a general rule, try not to require your audience to do too many optical gymnastics to follow the narrative of your science. When creating a new poster from scratch, I like to sketch out the layout, brief text tidbits and figure ideas by hand in A4 format to help get a handle on what data I need to track down and figures I need to produce. I also find drafting this initial layout in A4 size helps to keep my final poster from getting too overcrowded.
Find SVG versions of logos for the institutes that contributed to the work. It is good practice to acknowledge the financial support any project receives, and posters are no exception. In practice, I typically will have anywhere from 1 - 3 logos on my poster and any additional smaller contributions can be acknowledged in the text if you feel it is necessary. I will always find SVG versions of the logos, such that they can be edited and resized without losing any quality. Generally, you will be able to access these from your University brand team, or a quick google search with an advanced filter to find SVGs works well too.

Never underestimate the power of a good colour scheme. There is nothing worse than a poster that looks more like a rainbow kaleidoscope than a scientific document. Try to steer clear of elaborate colour schemes, and away from anything too light or bright. Also, keep in mind that picking a simple colour scheme to use throughout the entire poster (e.g. one type of sample is the same colour in all panels) helps to provide continuity for your reader. For those who are colour-coordinator challenged, a quick google search for colour palettes will provide all the inspiration you need.

Remember the power of size, shape and colour for drawing attention. With the limited time and large amount of information available at poster sessions, conveying the most important points from your work is crucial. Using accent colours, bold fonts or larger sizes can help to draw your reader’s eye to the key aspects of your work, and hopefully prompt them to ask more about the details!
Consistency is key. A poster, aside from displaying scientific results and information, is at the end of the day a piece of art. As with any beautiful artwork, the little things matter! Use the handy aligning and specific dimension setting functions in powerpoint to make sure everything is balanced and consistent. Check that the text sizes, fonts, line widths etc are identical throughout your poster, especially for things like headers and panel outlines. There will always be one or two typos that sneak past you, but it’s also a good idea do several final read-throughs to check for typos - once your masterpiece is printed, there is no turning back!
Print smaller versions for proofing. Printing an A4 version of your poster is a great way to check for readability and those last-minute alignment or spelling errors. As a general rule, anything that is not readable in this format will not become more-so simply by being printed bigger - remember you want to be able to engage your visitors in conversation, not have them glueing their nose to your poster trying to make out the details!
PDF is your friend. Particularly if you include transparent artwork or special characters, it is good practice to export your poster from powerpoint to PDF before submitting for printing. There are also a few tricks with powerpoint to ensure the quality is maximal, which can be found in the ‘Options’ menu of the dialogue box during export.
Be prepared to print early. Some institutions have their own print services, and these can be a cost-effective way to have your poster printed. I have a lot of experience with Officeworks and have generally been thrilled with their service, although I would recommend visiting a store in person to submit and collect your poster. They will generally give you a test print which is handy to make sure your creation survived the file format change. Regardless of which route you choose, plan to have your poster finalised and printed several days before departure - this way you will have a few days up your sleeve to handle the inevitable curve-balls!

Useful resources

from Animate Your Science has some straightforward tips for layout and content. I will admit to disobeying a few of their “rules” but generally great advice!
Toolbox talk on and the

Did I miss your favourite tool or technique? Find me on or head over to the to tell me more!

Image credits: codytdavis, greyritualstudio, alecuffia and arterbury via

FASEB Protein Aggregation Conference 2019

Sun, 30 Jun 2019 04:29:41 +0000

After a science career spanning a decade without having attended an international conference, I have been fortunate enough this year to speak at not one but two! What follows is a not-so-brief rundown of my second international conference, what I learnt along the way and where I am hoping to take these lessons.

The benefits of a niche, narrow-focused conference

From the very first keynote speaker (shout out to Judith Frydman - what a powerhouse for proteostasis research), it was clear to me that this was going to be different to almost any other conference I have attended in the past. This conference (and in fact, the same is true for most FASEB themes) was very targeted around a single area of biology (protein aggregation), meaning that the talks were all very focused and relevant for all attendees. Indeed, the tight-knit and collaborative nature of this community was exemplified by the fact that each speakers acknowledgement slides listed at least one - normally many - other attendees.

It was so refreshing and heartening to see a dedicated community of brilliant researchers converge around this problem with a singular view to solving the puzzle of disease-associated aggregation. As well as this, there was a broad range of techniques on display and I felt that I left with a fantastic cross-section of the breadth of work being done in the field, both for pathogenic and functional amyloid aggregation, ranging from single-molecule through structural, cellular and whole-organism studies right up to clinical trials. Importantly, plenty of researchers presented unpublished data (presumably due to the diminished need for an extensive background in this audience, who are likely to have seen the speakers published works) that I would otherwise not have seen for many more months/years if the paper is held up during publication.

For me personally, this conference represented the intersection of my PhD work (centred on aggregation of a specific protein) and my current postdoctoral work (focusing more broadly on proteostasis and its role in disease-associated protein aggregation). So much has happened in the field since my PhD and it was pure bliss getting to nerd-out surrounded by like-minded people. I was surprised more than once at the new connections my brain was able to find in this setting. I found that by listening to many perspectives/methods targetting similar biology, it was easier to start to integrate those complex ideas rather than reading the papers in isolation. Aside from this, for the junior attendees like myself this conference made for a fantastic job market, with many lab heads in our field advertising positions.

Lessons learnt

A good and engaging speaker is one who is in tune with the audience, including their level of engagement, and who respects the time of the audience by sticking to their allocated slot.
Aim to engage. In a small group such as this, you will inevitably run into many of the high-profile speakers - maybe even at the breakfast table! - so it is essential to have attended and engaged with their talk. Bonus points for devising an intelligent question to follow up on their presented material!
The “comment and a question” audience member will always elicit a collective groan - don’t be this person!
Conference organisation is no small feat - but inevitably the strength of the organisation team will impact on the general experience. In this case, a lack of confirmed program less than a week out from the conference was not a good sign. Missteps in the organisation led to the chaotic herding of humans to food and coffee breaks and program potluck ensued when the speaking slots were revised on day one of the conference.
Location, location, location: Snowmass was an incredible conference location. A small ski village easing into the break between winter ski and summer hiking seasons, there was plenty of sunshine and a brisk breeze all set in front of a stunning snow-capped mountainous backdrop. A huge highlight of the conference was the relative isolation which, while difficult to travel to and from, heightened the sense of community and connectivity between attendees. Spending time immersed in the location will strengthen your connection to that conference. Snowmass made this particularly easy, with plenty of Springtime hikes, walks and sunshine on display.

The who, what, when and where of woeful wifi - an outstandingly woeful conference internet connection elicited plenty of complaints throughout the week. However, I did feel was more engaged with talks that I might not have otherwise prioritised, as it was much more difficult to multitask with attention-sucking admin jobs like email. While sticking almost 100 researchers in a room for large swaths of the day that does not have reliable internet is probably a recipe for disaster, it certainly supports the age-old adage of ‘unplugging’ during seminars/conferences to be emersed in the research at hand.
Chairing is caring - an experienced chair who takes control of a session, including speaker introductions and managing question time, can have a profound impact on the speakers and attendees. It is not a job that should be taken lightly. It is worthwhile paying attention next time you have the chance to observe an adept chairperson, taking note of the often unseen acts that contribute to a flawless, inclusive and positive conference session.
The diversity debate among question askers - it struck me how often the same group of 5 - 10 people in a room of ten times that many were always the ones to ask questions. I have never taken to the microphone at a conference to ask a question of the speaker. Not due to lack of ideas - I will often have a list of question ready and waiting to be addressed - but I always lack courage in a room filled with ’experts’ and my imposter syndrome keeps my butt glued to the seat. Is this maintained as some kind of PI-ready test you have to pass? Throughout this conference, I ruminated on the idea of how to engage people other than those that are brave enough to take to the microphone - there are plenty of free crowdsourcing options out there ( and to name a few), and yet I have not seen a single conference where this is adopted. I am keeping a keen eye open for an opportunity to put this inclusivity initiative into action.
By far the biggest take home from this conference was that everything which seems so significant before leaving for the conference (poster prep, student meetings, experiments, slides, …) will no longer be so important once you arrive, and will be overcome by things like remembering faces of people you meet, feeling comfortable in a room of strangers, testing the confines of your comfort zone and nailing your two-minute “who I am” pitch. I am still working on perfecting these aspects of conference attendance!

Personal perspectives

“Growing a pair” is a lifelong process: it is important to make the most of opportunities at a conference (which can often be once-in-a-lifetime combinations of people, place and perspectives) while understanding and appreciating your limits.
Finding your people and your place: while engaging with diverse people is a key goal of attending any conference, recognising that you need smaller groups and its OK to need more relaxed time (e.g. spending time with small group of colleagues for drinks at a local bar instead of the crowded networking events.

The psychology of ideas: you know that feeling when your idea is discussed during a meeting, and the academic goes on to believe it was theirs? For the first time ever, a senior academic articulated to me their inability to discern where an idea comes from, and it was enlightening. In contrast to my previous reactions, this wisened academic encouraged me (and the other early career researchers present) to hold firm when this happens and to realise that it is most often without malice but simply a product of the multitude of ideas and meetings senior researchers attend every day.
The importance of a mentor in science: it’s no secret. In fact, any time I have spoken to an academic about their career path and trajectory they speak constantly about the different mentors that smoothed their journey. But this conference, I spent a bit of time reflecting on the importance of proactively approaching search for good mentor-mentee relationships. Having mentors that enter your career organically is important, but you should also identify and target strategic additions to your ’team’ of mentors.
Who am I? Every successful and prominent researcher to take the stage at this conference began with “My lab works on…”. It is important to define this early on, and I am very aware of this hole in my current career focus.
The value of contemplation: Conferences have been one of the few times this year that I have taken the chance to sit and think - really think - about science (and life and decisions). While I would like to bring more of this deep contemplation to my every-day science, I am learning to accept and expect these events to be heightened moments of reflection and embrace the soul-searching mood!
Trading hats: with a few days set aside before and after the conference for travel, it was incredible to put on my long-lost tourist hat and enjoy the sights, sounds, smells and sensations of being in a new country. This experience reminded me of how lucky I am to have the opportunity to do this as an academic, and that I should more often take time to reflect on that privilege.

Overall, this conference was a tour-de-force of world-leading experts and cutting-edge research, and included several abstract-selected talks from ECRs (including myself!) that together comprised a diverse and wellbalanced program in a stunning location. Were you in Snowmass this June? Get in touch via and let me know what you thought of the FASEB Protein Aggregation Conference!

Banner image credits:

Book Review: Spineless

Thu, 30 May 2019 12:27:33 +0000

I know, I know, book reviews are so seventh grade. But I am making a conscious effort, both to read more and to actively engage with the media I consume. So, I thought writing down a few tid bits about each of the books I conquer this year might help me and promote some great popular science literature that I think everyone should get around!

The nitty-gritty details:

Title: Spineless: The Science of Jellyfish and the Art of Growing a Backbone

Author: Juli Berwald

Theme:

Jellyfish, general scientific concepts, academia and beyond, motherhood, self-discovery

Target audience:

Everyone

Overall thoughts:

Part travelogue, part memoir, part deep-dive (literally) into the world of jellyfish… Spineless should serve as inspiration for all of us to advocate for research and understanding of the current climate emergency from the perspective of our gelatenous sea-bound dinosaurs. Masterfully intertwined with recounts of her international jelly-finding adventures are details of Berwald’s quest to reclaim a creative space in the midst of family life.

We may span different generations, geographical locations and scientific fields - but I felt an undeniable sense of commeradery and connection with the sentiments throughout this book. Many times along the way I found myself grateful that there was someone else with shared experiences of academia. I also found comfort in the seeming inevitability of her attraction to science. It was so incredible to hear how one person can navigate the complicated spiderweb of academia to pursue a true thirst for knowledge.

Overall, this was a fascinating read for scientists and non-scientists alike. Contemporary, lighthearted and enlightening with amazing illustrations to boot.

**Some of the best bits*:**

What is clear is that the more we learn about these animals from our deep past, the more we will understand about the gnarled evolutionary tree that supports all the animals in the world, including ourselves.

pg 82

As my kids progressed through elementary school, jellyfish had become my own alternative school, a place where my mind could play, and explore, and expand, the intellectual playground that I craved.

pg 84

Gene mutation is always seeking diversity, coming up with innovation, pushing boundaries.

pg 85

… asked him why so many jellyfish were transparent. He looked at me as if I’d asked him why grasshoppers were green. The question is, why isn’t everything transparent?

pg 96

Passion pushes our curiousity, drives innovation, and breaks through boundaries. Economics makes rules, sets boundaries, and forces compromise.

pg 101

While we usually think of domestivation in terms of animals and plants, GFP has essentially become a domesticated gene. By being so useful to us, this single gene has circled the globe, transferred from petri dish in one lab to cell culture in another to your neighbourhood pet store.

pg 118

… your orientation in the world is one of the most important things you can know.

pg 127

There’s something very democratic and modern about this multiple-pacemaker arrangement, evolutionarily ancient as it may be. It is a completely diffuse yet incredibly functional system. The jellyfish’s nervous system is smart without being consolidated.

pg 136

The more we think the same thought, the more neurotransmitters and receptors we produce at that synapse. And so it goes until the memory’s physical structure is a robust synapse, connected by the flood of neurotransmitters and a field of receptors.

pg 140

“information isn’t knowledge; knowledge isn’t wisdom”

pg 156

We have to move beyond this age of combustion… The jellyfish are an alarm that says we are mismanaging our ecosystem. They are a symptom. The cause is our stupid behaviour. And there is nothing else.

pg 161

Given the mighty forces that drive our planet - volcanism, plate techtonics, magnetic storms - … our penchant for focusing on small issues
\[is\]
infuriating. “The planet isn’t going anywhere … We are. Pack your bags.”

pg 161

Even though I was miserable, the decision to quit academics came with a considerable amount of guilt. The scientific community had made an investment of nearly a decade in me. It had pair me, albeit frugally, during my training. And I walked away from it. A piece of me always felt that I left a debt unpaid.

pg 167

The low points - not the moments of joy - were the decisive moments in my life. I had almost never made a change when things were going well.

pg 177

This wasn’t about being capable; it was about being willing. Making a difference would require our collective intention and effort. It would mean growing a spine.

pg 179

You know, maybe that’s where the hope lies. The recognition that we are all stuck here on this planet together. Maybe that fact will be what eventually gets us to clean up our act.

pg 210

My fear wasn’t something I would have admitted in my grad school days when I was trying to show that I could handle anything, that I had what it took, or what I thought it l=took, to be a scientist.

pg 216

Jellyfish had become a better-late-than-never vehicle for me to explore the threats to the ocean’s future. They’re a way to start a conversation about things tha can seem boring and abstract - acidification, warming, overfishing, and coastal development - but that are changing our oceans in fundamental ways.

pg 223

Experiencing the ocean’s brilliance first hand meant more than all my after-school lectures combined… Our kids need to understand what’s at stake too.

pg 278

The realisation that scientists need to roll down their sleeves and button up their jackets has dawned on the European scientists I met much more insistently than it has on those on the other side of the Atlantic.

pg 284

In the United States as well as Europe, there is an ongoing attack on science, a willful insertion of misconception into the public sphere. And that leads to policies that fly in the face of the data and reason.

pg 284

Letters to the editor, which seem such an archaic form of free speech in these Twittering times, actually get read in Washington.

pg 285

Raise your voice. By staying quiet, we are deceiving the public. The public deserves to know what’s going on in the ocean. We are being willfully myopic.

pg 287

If any of those things had happened differently, I wouldn’t be standing in this spot at this moment. Life may be a series of happy accidents, but I had never before had them all come together in one morning.

pg 290

Our dancing turns to fighting, often for the wrong reasons. We fall in love easily, but often with things that don’t matter or even harm us, things that numb us to the thousands of ever-more discernible darts we are shooting at our own planet. This can lead to terrible mistakes, even self-destruction.

pg 304

*Please note these are direct quotes from the reviewed material and do not represent independently conceived ideas.

Handy links:

Buy the book
Check out Bradshaw’s blog

Have you read Spineless, or have another science-adjacent book you can recommend? Find me on or head over to the to tell me more!

Image credits: Spineless cover photo

EMBL Proteomics in Health and Disease Mechanisms 2019

Sun, 24 Mar 2019 07:19:06 +0000

Last year I had the privilege and pleasure to attend (and present at) four scientific conferences. This year is shaping up to be just as wonderful, as I have been lucky enough to attend two conferences is as many months, marking the start of what I hope to be a productive year ahead. Here is a little about my recent European adventures, including my first oral presentation at an international conference.

Conference details:

Title:

Date: 7th - 9th March 2019

Location: Heidelberg, Germany

Overview:

Focused on the application of proteomics to cell biology and unraveling disease mechanisms by addressing conceptually novel ways to study long-standing questions in these fields. As most proteomics-based conferences tend to focus on analytical chemistry, the selection of biological topics is usually uneven. Therefore, this unique conference aims to showcase biology applications and build bridges to the disciplines where the technology’s promise is still not nearly fully realised.

There’s a first time for everything!

This was my first truly international conference. What do I mean by that? I have attended and presented at several Australian national conferences consisting of international speakers, but was yet to have travelled overseas to visit a conference in another country. Unfortunately, our isolation makes such an undertaking on a student or starting post-doctoral salary near impossible. In this case, I had been madly applying for every pot of travel funding I could find for the last year, and in a fantastic “it-never-rains-but-it-pours” moment I received all three of the grants I applied for! This meant I was able not only to travel halfway around the world and attend a pre-eminent conference in my field, I could also afford to visit some long-term collaborators for a week afterwards. All together, the two weeks of travel were almost entirely covered and this meant that instead of being consumed with the cost of my every move I could actually focus on the science.

Overall scientific programme and conference feel

Not only did I get to hear about all the amazing developments at the forefront of proteomics research worldwide, I also got to showcase some of my work to leaders in the field. This was an incredible opportunity, and while I was a little disappointed with my talk (owing to sub-optimal preparation and a large dose of nerves), I received overall positive feedback. As well as this, there was so many advances in techniques and biological understanding that I would have never come across on my own, at least not within the next 12 months while the papers are being sucked down the peer-review black hole!

As well as a stunning program, I feel I must give a bonus shout out to the EMBL organising team. Everything ran smoothly, was well organised and timed, and was superbly catered. There was also a small enough number of participants and a well-balanced program between students, post-doctoral researchers, principle investigators and moguls of the field. A conference I would highly recommend to anyone interested in the biological applications of advanced proteomics techniques.

So conferences are just an excuse to travel?

Conferences are the life-blood of academic knowledge sharing. You might think the enormous volume of published literature would be the best source of the up-to-date goings-on of the science world, but sadly in most circumstances you’d be wrong.

I have written before about the importance of conferences, particularly for those of us a little isolated outside the major American and European science hubs. This is because these conferences are essential for establishing and maintaining connections with colleagues, and for hearing about the cutting edge research being done in your field all over the world. As I alluded to above, unfortunately by the time most manuscripts have made it through the academic publishing process, six to twelve months have past (sometimes more) and there are more new and exciting developments already happening (with the advent of preprint servers such as BioRxiv this will hopefully change, but more on that in a later post).

For these reasons, conference attendance in particular for early-career researchers, is about so much more than the travel. Sure, it helps if the places you are visiting are enticing and if you can spare a few days afterward to explore, but the invaluable aspects of conference attendance always take precedence.

Lessons learnt

As my first international meeting, I learnt some new lessons about attending (and making the most of) conferences abroad.

1. Multiply your typical organisation time by at least double. International travel, in addition to conference attendance and accommodation, requires a significant investment of time and energy to plan and book a reasonable itinerary.

2. Departure day is not that far away. I realised after madly rushing to finish my slides on the 14 h flight from Australia to my stopover, that I had perhaps underestimated how quickly my departure date would approach. I was so focused on tackling the seemingly all-so-important last minute experiments and meeting with my students to plan their activities while I was away, that the very reason for my trip got pushed to the side. The result was a less-than-flattering performance during my presentation, and a general feeling of exhaustion throughout the conference which dampened my social spirit. Consequently, I did not proactively initiate many interactions with other attendees, and therefore failed to make as many useful contacts as I otherwise could have.

3. Do your research, researcher! This mostly relates to scoping out the program beforehand. Sure, reading the headline speakers you should be able to identify any leaders that would be good to hear from. But more than this - look over the abstracts, and pinpoint those which are relevant, interesting or potentially useful. To assist this process, concurrently search the presenter in PubMed to get a handle on their other research. Unfortunately, an abstract may not do justice to a programme of scientific discovery, however reading the most recent/most cited articles will help you highlight not-to-miss talks. In addition, I got caught out this conference by an invited speaker whose most recent papers have been instrumental in my project design. Unfortunately, I recognised the first author’s name, and not the speaker (who was senior author on the papers in question) and therefore missed an initial opportunity to discuss this work in depth with the driving principle investigator. Having then done my homework, I was able to make this crucial connection.

4. There will be other conferences, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Sure, there will be uncomfortable moments, especially attending a conference in a foreign country surrounded by unfamiliar languages and faces. But the best in life happens outside your comfort zone. Unfortunately, it took me a significant portion of the short three-day meeting to push my comfortable boundaries, and after the first two days I left feeling as though I had not taken enough advantage of the opportunities a small meeting with superstars-of-the-field presents. I was disappointed in the impression I made over these two days due to my lack of will power to engage in the social activities, and this was compounded by the feeling of responsibility to those who had funded my trip (including the conference organisers, with a very generous stipend). Ultimately, by the end of the conference, I gathered the seeds of a few meaningful connections to chase up by email - and the very important lesson to make more of these meetings in person in future.

Final thoughts

There are plenty of downsides to science (hellloo no job security, poor work-life balance etc) and travelling (long-haul flights, little sleep, $$$) - but conferences provide a great opportunity to combine the best of both. I would thoroughly recommend this conference, or any in the series of , for early-career researchers looking for an excuse to visit Europe and beyond.

Have you attended any other international conferences or EMBL events you can recommend? Find me on or head over to the to tell me more!

Many thanks to the generous funding provided by the Bio21 Institute Post-doctoral Fellows Travel Grant, the University of Melbourne Faculty of Dentistry, Medicine and Health Early-career Researcher Travel Award and the EMBL Corporate Partnership Programme Travel Grant. Without these initiatives, this travel would not have been possible and I am so very grateful for the opportunities provided by these funds both at the conference and beyond.

Image credits: EMBL Conference logo sourced

A year in review: 2018 edition

Tue, 15 Jan 2019 09:52:30 +0000

The last few weeks have seen a flood of people posting their 2018 achievements, promoting the academic currency of papers published, grants won, students mentored and conferences attended.

Without taking away from these achievements, I wanted to focus on viewing myself as more than my work, and especially more than the ‘publish or perish’-driven manuscript list. And so, here lives my reflection on the year that was. Lessons remain a crucial part; after all,

“If a man looks at the world when he is 50 the same way he looked at it when he was 20 and it hasn’t changed, then he has wasted 30 years of his life,”

Muhamed Ali

Of course, I would be remiss not to celebrate the high points - but I have tried to temper the ‘gloating’ with a few honest low points. Finally, I take a look to the future. By defining goals which will drive my personal and professional life in 2019, I hope to kick off a fulfilling and smooth-sailing year with the course charted and the wind in my sails.

Wins

A snapshot of the high points

I received my first personal scientific project funding through an Early-Career Researcher Grant
I had four papers published, including the last of my PhD research, and landed travel funds for an international conference
I was priviledged to give too many conference presentations to count (Lornes, ABS-ABA, Winter School..)
I developed and grew this page, with 20 blog posts including tools, conference reviews, book reviews and scicomm
I produced hundreds (maybe thousands?) of lines of brand new code - but more importantly, saw a significant improvement in my ability and confidence when programming which has allowed me to assist others
I attended my first PyLadies meetup, where I met people like me (in science, learning python independently) and some less like me (employed full time in programming or data analysis positions)
I developed closer relationships with family and friends, as I worked harder to maintain and build these ties
I read two more books than last year
I consistently, regularly exercised, losing 15 kilograms
I hit a saving milestone and we bought a house

Losses

A snapier shot of the low points

I worked for two months on experiments that were to resuscitate one of my major projects
I’m now left with no papers in the pipeline, leaving lots for the year ahead to wrap up these projects
My coding projects are in somewhat of a state of disarray, in desperate need of a tidy and some documentation
I only read 2 books, and put 8 kilograms back on
I spent more than 50 hours writing six grants, all of which were unsuccessful
I was quick to judge others and less approachable than I would like to be, letting my stress seep to the outside
We unbought a hous

Lessons

The bits I wish I knew at the start of 2018, but had to learn the hard way

Have the hard conversations - with your boss, your partner, yourself
Self-care is about what you need - not what everyone else’s definition of rest and relaxation tells them (and they, therefore, tell you) you should be doing
“There are less qualified people than you doing what you want to do, just because they decided to believe in themselves. Period.”
Make a positivity folder and actively collect the warm fuzzy moments: emails, photos, messages, compliments, congratulations…
If you want to do something, really want to, then make time. Do it. No one else is going to do it for you, and your schedule will not magically clear. Life is never going to get less hectic or stressful.
Every day, hour, minute you spend wishing your way to the next thing (job, house, friend, partner) you will equally spend wishing you had taken the time to value what you had, to revel in it.
Prioritise, prioritise, prioritise

Goals

Hopefully to help me meander with purpose through 2019

It might be a little meta, but a big goal of mine this year is to learn to set SMART goals. Not so much “new years resolutions” - but personal and professional goals that I would like to work towards every day.
If you’ve never heard of the SMART goal concept, you can find a more detailed description , but in a nutshell SMART goals are:
- S - specific, significant, stretching
- M - measurable, meaningful, motivational
- A - agreed upon, attainable, achievable, acceptable, action-oriented
- R - realistic, relevant, reasonable, rewarding, results-oriented
- T - time-based, time-bound, timely, tangible, trackable
With this in mind, I have the following goals for 2019:
- Yoga at least two days in a fortnite during 2019. A flexible body -> flexible mind -> clarity of ideas, increased alertness and engagement with the task at hand. I would like to be able to better calm my mind when distraction threatens. I will track this goal via a calendar which records each session.
- Land the next job - be strong enough to throw myself into the applications and let go of the guilt of not chasing (limited) Australian funds. This will be measured via my application for at least 3 more Fellowship programs.
- Attitude adjustment - I will track this goal via weekly mini-reflections, where I will focus on (1) Learning to take control of what is within my reach, and to more rapidly accept that which is outside my control and move on, (2) Doing one self-positive task per day - learning, physical activity, kindness, and (3) Fostering self belief to replace self doubt, in personal relationships, professional settings and long-term career prospects
- Prioritise, prioritise, prioritise!

And with that, it’s time to say sayonara 2018 - bring on 2019.

May science be kind to you!

Image credit: @brookelark via

NoBell Prize 2018

Fri, 30 Nov 2018 11:01:39 +0000

The phrase “Nobel Prize” usually evokes a sense of prestige and gravitas. There is no doubt that these prizes are bestowed upon individuals who have made outstanding contributions to the human race. However, sometimes what exactly the prize-winners invention or contribution was can be a little beyond the grasp of your average citizen.

Enter the “NoBell Prize”.

Hosted each year by the Melbourne Neuroscience Institute, this fantastic event is a funny scicomm-athon open to the general public, where brain and mind researchers attempt to explain their research without jargon in three minutes. Should they utter a sceric of technical jargon, the judging panel ring a bell and the researcher must satisfactorily explain the concept in lay terms before moving on. At the end of the night, the number of bell rings is tallied up and the researcher with the least bells is crowned victorious with a ‘prestigous’ faux-gold cup. This year pitted 5 fantastic researchers against the bell:

Dr David Farmer - Research Fellow, Autonomic Neuroscience Laboratory, The Florey Institute
Dr Holly Chinnery - Corneal and Ocular Immunology Unit Lab Director
A/Prof Carsten Murawski- Principal Investigator, Brain Mind and Markets Laboratory
Prof Erica Fletcher - Visual Neuroscience Laboratory Head
Dr Scott Kolbe - Advanced Neuroimaging Laboratory Head

While at face value this may seem like a frivolous take on a serious and distinguished event, in the age of fake news and dismissed scientific evidence the importance of events like these cannot be understated. It was articulated best by the host of the evening, Dr. Shane Huntington, when he espoused the responsibility we have as researchers not only to conduct good science, but to demand good science, to advocate good science, and to communicate good science.

In fact, as Dr. Huntington believes, the current fracturing of truth and lack of belief in evidence-based policy is a reflection of a failure by us as an academic community to effectively engage and communicate with the public. Events like these are essential for both public science literacy and practice in effective communication for researchers.

Even with the serious (and important) aspects, all around the NoBell Prize was a fantastic evening with lots of laughs and an equal helping of learning - even for me! If you have the chance, I highly recommend checking out the NoBell Prize in 2019. Maybe you could even go up against the bells yourself!

Book review: The Effective Scientist

Sun, 28 Oct 2018 10:32:43 +0000

I know, I know, book reviews are so seventh grade. But I am making a conscious effort not only to read more this year, but also to actively engage with the media I consume. So, I thought writing down a few tid bits about each of the books I conquer this year might help me and promote some great popular science literature that I think everyone should get around!

Title: The Effective Scientist

Author: Corey. J. A. Bradshaw

Theme:
ECRs, academia, science impact

Target audience:
ECRs across scientific disciplines

Overall thoughts:
A well written, self-reflective evaluation of the important aspects surrounding scientific research that make or break a scientific career.

As a “first-gen” PhD, I naively thought that being good at the research (understanding concepts, designing and interpreting experiment, analysing data, writing papers and teaching students) would be enough to guarantee me a successful and impactful career in academia. However, very soon into my first post-doc it became clear that there was a great deal more than these qualities required, and that it was not something that is taught in Grad school. Mostly, people garnered “insider knowledge” on how to succeed. With this truthful and frank book, Bradshaw provides some of these insights as a guide for new early career researchers, helping to at least level the playing field for those of us not in the know. So much of his recounts were relatable, and wisdom enlightening. Even those who consider themselves in the know could learn a thing or two from the empathetic approach and good lab-building practice ideas put forward by Bradshaw. Together, these skills may help you survive (maybe even thrive) in the world of academic science, will lead to a more fulfilling and impactful career, and allow you to positively contribute to the betterment of society. And as a side-note, the print version itself is absolutely beautiful (props to Rene Campbell for the images throughout, and for the amazing cover image) - a win-win-win!

Overall, I can not recommend this book enough for early-career scientists of all disciplines. Aspiring post-graduate students, newly-minted PhD’s, post-docs and junior principle investigators alike can all benefit from the wisdom held between this magnificent cover!

Some of the best bits*:

Knowing what or how to achieve what you will be expected to do is not necessarily intuitive or easy

We must compete in an age of on-tap information, most of which is either meaningless drivel or utter nonsense

To most, significant just sounds more authoritative, educated, and erudite than a lot or big. This is, of course, complete rubbish because some people use big words to his the fact that they are not quite as clever as they think they are

…you might be of the mistaken assumption that science is a nice, linear, logical process leading to unambiguous conclusions.

Failure, at least of the temporary kind, is therefore ironically a state that you will necessarily have to get used to if you are to succeed as a scientist.

What lacking novelty really means is ‘we do not think your paper will get as many citations as we would like’.

I could go on and on, but in reality this whole book bears repeating. In fact, I am quite certain that I will return many times over the years to revisit specific chapters or paragraphs - to cherry-pick more than these few phrases does an injustice to the rest, you will simply have to read it!

*Please note these are direct quotes from the reviewed material and do not represent independently conceived ideas.

Handy links:

Buy the book
Check out Bradshaw’s blog

Quick Recap: PyLadies Melbourne Event

Tue, 31 Jul 2018 11:24:05 +0000

Locating the labyrinth a nd meeting the meetup For a few months, I had been working on the courage to check out one of the many coding-related groups held all across Melbourne each month. There are the meetups, various networking events and more data science groups than I could possibly list here (if any of these peaks your interest, check out the meetup list ). Still, as a scientist-turned-programmer (and a shy one at that) I wasn’t too quick to jump in the deep end with a roomful of people who of course I assume know everything there is to know about programming. Eventually, an email popped into my inbox with details for an upcoming centered around a tool I had been using (and hating) almost daily, and finally, I thought, “This is it. It’s now or never”. So, a cold Melbourne Monday night I bundled up my backpack and headed into the city after a long day at work.

After a tricky start (getting into locked business buildings in the heart of the Melbourne CBD is not my strong suite - mastermind criminal I am not!), I finally made it to a table jam-packed with Souvas accompanied by a fridge full of beer and cider (or apple juice poppers if that’s what you’re into). I was one of the last to arrive, so I quietly slunk in the back and collected some food before introducing myself to the orchestrator of the event. Not long after a quick round of “What’s your name, what do you do…”, we were bundled through to a second room where there was a bunch of tables and chairs set up around a projector.

For the next 90 minutes, enthralled and entertained with her tales learning python’s premier plotting library, matplotlib. I won’t go too much into the finer details of her talk - you can check it out . But, I will tell you a little about Ash and why her talk being my first foray into python meetups was so important. A masters student come research assistant, Ash is a bench-trained scientist with a flair for uncovering transcriptional signatures of immune genes in cancer. She came into python as the only scientist in her lab using this language and has built analysis pipelines for her work from the ground up. Coming into python as a scientist was definitely something I could relate to! Ash was brutally honest about how hard she found it at times to navigate the various Matplotlib interfaces. She unashamedly admitted how easy it was to spend hours ‘prettifying’ your graphs. And most importantly for me, she had a room full of fellow pythonistas, mostly software engineers and data scientists, nodding along. It was unbelievably reassuring to hear that I wasn’t alone in my experiences of matplotlib-induced pain. On top of that, having someone methodically explain the basic concepts, the tricky syntax and the bizarre labeling conventions was so helpful for crystallising the knowledge I had slowly accumulated over the last year or two since starting to use matplotlib more regularly. I even learned a few new tricks (aspect=‘auto’ anyone??).

I know it may seem like I’m gushing (and maybe I am, a little) but it truly was a revelation to me that scientists could have something so useful and relevant to contribute to what (on the surface) seemed like a simple conversation for those ‘in the know’. The PyLadies are an incredibly welcoming bunch, and I can’t wait for next month to ‘meetup’ with them again.

The nitty gritty When: Third Monday of each month Where: Melbourne CBD Who: Anyone identifying as female who is interested in python. What: The presenters and topics vary by month, so for all the details make sure to check out the PyLadies meetup page.

Note: The details I’ve included here are for the . If this is not near you, don’t dismay - there are PyLadies groups all over the world and most likely one near you! There are even remote PyLadies groups that regularly post talks online if this sounds more like your jam head to check it out.

Python not your thing? There are so, so many different groups on , I am sure you will find something that takes your fancy!

Resources If you’re in a world of matplotlib pain, here are a few of my favourite resources that (along with Ash’s talk) really help to lay out ground rules and will hopefully give you a fighting chance:

Magnified 2018

Tue, 05 Jun 2018 07:53:54 +0000

The Illawarra Health and Medical Research Institute (IHMRI), in association with the School of Arts, English and Media at the University of Wollongong (UOW), are hosting a fundraising exhibition featuring images from the work of researchers and students, in support of Motor Neuron Disease (MND) research at IHMRI. This is a cause quite close to my heart, and as an alumnus, I was lucky enough to be invited to contribute. I actually had a heap of fun choosing my artwork (you can check out my submissions below) and for all the details on when and where you can find the exhibition head . Works in the exhibition will be on sale to the general public, with all proceeds going towards Motor Neuron Disease (MND) research at IHMRI. What better reason do you need to pick up some fantastic sciart?

Decoding Proteostasis

Proteins are the major cellular building blocks fundamental for most basic operations sustaining life. Most proteins need extensive management by the cell’s proteostasis machinery to maintain their proper shape. Proteostasis imbalance can cause neuronal death, leading to neurodegenerative disease. Various cellular stresses, such as inhibiting housekeeping functions or dismantling structural components, can differentially impact neuronal health. Understanding changes in each individual protein (columns) within a cell as it responds to different stresses (rows) highlights how different stress types influence proteostasis. Revealing common vulnerable pathways, by decoding this ‘proteome barcode’, will help focus future therapeutic targeting on neurons weakest links.

The twists and turns of proteostasis

Misfolded proteins aggregate into elongated fibrils (yellow/green ribbons), which cause neuronal death and lead to neurodegenerative diseases like MND, Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s disease. Using powerful microscopes, we can watch how the molecular chaperones (red), part of the cells proteostasis defence network, attach along the fibrils, helping to protect the neurons from these toxic tentacles.

what to do when you can't get a word in edge ways

Sat, 28 Apr 2018 03:45:17 +0000

I don’t believe in resolutions, mostly because I have finally learnt (after 20-something years) that I will never stick to them. However, January 1st this year saw me looking to make a few key changes in my lifestyle. A few of these resulted from lessons I learnt throughout 2017 (you can read more about those ), and some were personal decisions that I felt would contribute to my mental, professional and physical health. One of those decisions was a commitment to reading and writing more. What you see here is my attempt at writing - but what about reading? I consume a steady stream of media everyday, and I decided it was high time that I put the constant onslaught of information to better use - to make it work for me, instead of feeling like I was drowning under it’s weight. My answer to this challenge came in a few forms:

1. A new system for prioritising and tracking purely scientific reading. This includes journal articles and media pieces with direct relevance to my current project, or project ideas that I hope to pursue one day. For more on my new system, and how I automate some of the process, keep an eye out for a future post coming soon.

2. A more balanced and positive social media environment. For me, this meant migrating to Instagram and Twitter (in favour of Facebook). Given I was a relative late comer to Twitter, I was able to curate my social network to generate an environment filled with positive stories, useful information, scicomm and professional opportunities etc. Not only does my time spent on these social channels no longer feel cumbersome and negative, but I have also found a brand new way to stay up to date with new science and funding opportunities, as well as a group of positive uplifting scientists working to effect real change in the systems they see failing scientists (and particular female scientists) worldwide.

3. A conscious effort to read something for leisure. While I allowed myself to choose books loosely based in science, it had to be in an expanded real-life paperback-in-hand book (no online journal articles) that I would sit with and focus solely on for at least half an hour at a time. I have only managed a single book this year (more on that ), but these ‘unplugged’ moments have helped anchor my self-care for the past few months. I find it refreshing to have a single focus for a defined time period (no electronic attention-grabbing distractions), and it was great to stretch my mind and take in broad science outside my niche that was designed for a popular audience.

After almost four months, my media-rich life is finally beginning to feel manageable. Tackling the barrage of text and images head on, I have found a balance between reading I have to do (articles), reading I am inevitably going to do (socials) and reading I would like to do (books). And if nothing else, this really reinforces for me the biggest lesson of 2017 - call it yin and yang, call it … call it whatever you like - it’s all about the balance!

Book review: Human Universe

Sat, 28 Apr 2018 03:43:15 +0000

I know, I know, book reviews are so seventh grade. But I am making a conscious effort not only to read more this year, but also to actively engaging with the media I consume. So, I thought writing down a few tid bits about each of the books I conquer this year might help me and promote some great popular science literature that I think everyone should get around!

Title: Human Universe Theme:

A self professed love letter to humanity, this book asks questions about our origins, our destiny, and our place in the universe, covering the science behind each scale in the universe, from single cells to whole galaxies to the infinite multiverse.

Target audience:

Inquisitive minds, suitable for both scientists and those with little to no scientific background.

Overall thoughts:

Well crafted stories and arguments, with an appropriate level of context for someone with no background in science, but not so much as to be nauseatingly boring for scientists. In many instances, Cox manages to articulate many of my feelings about science, policy and the challenges we face both as scientists and more broadly as a society with a solid foundation in established scientific research.

Some of the best bits*:

The language of science - because there is no better demonstration of our ascent… than the exponentiation of knowledge
Education powers the mind beyond direct experience - onwards and outwards
Common sense is completely worthless and irrelevant when trying to understand reality
The inbuilt and unavoidable stupidity of intelligent beings
Countries whose borders and interests are defined by imagined local differences and arbitrary religious dogma, both of which are utterly irrelevant and meaningless on a galactic scale
A lovely example of serendipity coupled with curiosity and a sprinkling of genius; from cannonballs to snowflakes to the code of life.
Science is a time machine, and it goes both ways. We are able to predict our future with increasing certainty. Our ability to act in response to these predictions will ultimately determine our fate.
Science and reason make the darkness visible
We woken up at the wheel of a bus and realised we don’t know how to drive it
A common governmental lament is new knowledge is not converted efficiently enough into economic growth. Is that what knowledge is for? Who pays for progress? Who should pay for progress?
there is much research to be done , but the barriers are likely to be budgetary rather than fundamental; the United States spends more on pet grooming than it does on fusion research.
I teach, I am taught, I research and I learn. I have been fortunate.
What are we made of? Up quarks, down quarks and electrons.* Please note these are direct quotes from the reviewed material, and do not represent independently conceived ideas. Where can I find it? Get it online .

the nomadic scientist: blessing or curse?

Thu, 05 Apr 2018 10:36:32 +0000

From the very beginning of my undergraduate degree, I knew that I wanted to pursue research overseas. Not so much a permanent relocation, but I was very keen to leverage the international nature of science to see the world. I secured a post-graduate position with a group leader who was open and supportive of this goal, and was instrumental in helping me go abroad during my PhD research. What followed was a whirlwind trip to Cambridge, UK, where I worked on acquiring a new technique to add to my developing skills arsenal. Despite the short stint, it was hands down the most personally and professionally life changing experience.

This is not to say that my home institute isn’t producing to good science - it is - but through this experience I was immersed in a city bursting at the seams with passionate experts, cutting-edge research and world-leading techniques. To say I fell in love would be an understatement. The cohesiveness and intertwined networks I observed whilst there were an incredible, eyeopening window into the collaboration that comes from bringing together world-leading experts from a broad range of disciplines in a melting pot dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge.

After returning to Australia, I worked towards the holy grail - thesis submission - and dreamed of the postdoctoral jobs I could chase internationally. One year on I am still here, and in a position I am thoroughly enjoying, but you better believe I still have my eye on an overseas position in the next 5 years. I do wholeheartedly believe that a diverse research training period is a critical foundation for a well rounded researcher, giving context and cultivating understanding of the abundant theories and approaches one can take to answer the big scientific questions. Diverse experiences offer the chance to explore the problem at hand from a new perspective, leading to unique insight.

And as excited as I still am about all the places science could take me in the next few chapters, my extra-continental daydreams have been tainted with an air of urgency of late. I am beginning to feel as though, with the current funding climate, the only way I am going to get a foot in the door is to do my time in a country where the pay is less, the work-life balance a little more unbalanced and my family a little(lot) further away. Even worse, I am acutely aware that in this situation I am the privileged one. Assuming I am lucky enough the secure a position in a good lab group in my area of research, I have very few restrictions or barriers to relocation. Sure, money is always an issue. And there might be a few personal hiccups (my partner is not infected with my incurable case of wanderlust), but I am (relatively) young, without kids and with no significant financial constraints (other than the misguided hope to someday get on the property ladder).

Many of my colleagues, and friends, do not enjoy the same level of flexibility.

And so, I suppose this post is more about what you think - is it possible to progress in the Australian scientific research landscape without being a nomad, at least for a little while? And what effect does this have on the diversity retained in the upper echelons of the academic institutions?

lifeguards of the cell

Sun, 11 Mar 2018 09:39:27 +0000

I believe communicating science with a broad and diverse audience is our responsibility as researchers. One of my most important audiences has always been my friends and family, many of whom didn’t do or don’t remember a single high school biology lesson. Needless to say, they’ve been a great testing ground for honing my elevator pitch - and I’ve discovered a neat metaphor makes it so much easier to describe complex scientific concepts without the dumbfounded look that normally accompanies any mention of protein homeostasis at family BBQ’s. Thankfully, our beach side home of Wollongong provides plenty of inspiration!

My scientific passion is understanding how each cell in our body achieves the world’s greatest balancing act - keeping all of its basic building blocks, proteins, in their correct three-dimensional conformation and therefore a functional state. Cells have an intricate network of ’lifeguards’, the proteostasis network, who monitor the proteins (or swimmers), keeping them folded and active or sending them to be degraded when they are no longer functional or needed. When there are disruptions to these lifeguards, the swimmers begin to drown (misfold) and can take others down with them (non-functional proteins accumulate) - at which point our cells begin to die. In the case of neurons, this cell death manifests as diseases like Alzheimer’s, ALS and Parkinson’s disease. It is therefore immensely important for us to understand why proteins begin to drown, how the lifeguards work and what contributes to their failure.

Much of my PhD work centered on one type of lifeguard - the small heat shock molecular chaperones. These lifeguards essentially patrol the beach, watching the swimmers, and spring into action when they detect a swimmer in trouble (a misfolded protein). Unfortunately they don’t have the ability to completely rescue a drowning swimmer (refold the protein), but they are quite good at bringing them back to the clubhouse and keeping them safe until help arrives (holding the protein in a folding-competent state). I focused my research on understanding how the small heat shock proteins help the swimmers (do they give them a life-ring? a pair of floaties? when do they hand them over to the experts?), and whether there was anything they could do once the drowning swimmers started to accumulate.

As a result of my PhD research, we now know that there are many ways the small heat shock proteins can interact with a particular type of swimmer (a-synuclein, whose misfolding and accumulation leads to Parkinson’s disease). Understanding these fundamental mechanisms is a crucial step in developing therapeutics to target the cellular lifeguards, to help treat or cure the diseases that result from their failure.

my attempt to pay it forward: MicroMentorHQ

Wed, 17 Jan 2018 04:03:50 +0000

I should start by acknowledging that I have always considered myself very lucky to be where I am. I am doing what I love (Science) in a (mostly) brilliant and (definitely) beautiful country, and I am conscious of the insane priviledge this is. This feeling of being priviledged has been a common thread throughout my secondary, teriary and graduate education, and continues now in my current postdoctoral position. I now find myself in one of (if not the) the most vibrant centers for science in the country. I am surrounded by people who are both good at their job, and emmensely passionate about it the mechanics of doing it well - how to be better at the technical science, but also how to progress in academia and how to leave the ivory tower a better place than when they found it.

Where before I was surrounded mostly by students and had met only a handful of postdocs during my PhD, I am surrounded for the first time by a critical mass of other post-docs. Suddenly, I have access to this wealth of resources and networks - both emotionally supportive and practical advice on the best ways to survive the post-doc squeeze (link here to Maggie’s STEM info with the squeeeze point diagram) and make it to the top of that ivory tower. One of the points that kept coming up again and again is the importance of mentoring and sponsorship - both in the traditional sense of experience mentor to inexperienced mentee, but also peer mentoring to foster emotional wellbeing.

Original WordPress export included an unresolved placeholder here.

During one of our frequent trips home last year, this topic came up in conversation with a few friends of mine from my home institute, one a current post-doc and one a final year PhD student. It saddened me to realise just how lacking these networks were for them. Despite being well prepared in the technical sense for the next career move (they both do excellent research), we all felt a little ‘out of the loop’ when it came to the trickle-down knowledge that can only come from those who’ve come before you. Some of this is mitigated by twitter (the scientific twitter community really is quite incredible), however engaging with Twitter as a platform was another thing that had not ’trickled down’ to these friends.

I resolved that this was my chance to pay it forward - to take what I was exposed to, and the lessons I was learning, and pass it along to late-stage students and postdocs. And so, MicroMentorHQ was born. First and foremost, I wanted the group to be a peer mentoring community for women in science, particularly Early-Mid Career Researchers. The inherent idea was that we all have valuable experiences and by connecting us wherever we may be in the world and at whatever career stage we are at, hopefully we can more easily elevate one another in the world of science. The current funding climate, and the other cruelties of doing science, also means that we need to get better at sharing opportunities and celebrating success, and I hoped to build a network that would encompass all of these ideas.

The experience, it’s is current form, I think is somewhat like a lunchroom with separate tables (or message boards) for different conversations. There is a place to introduce new members, where I hope to post bio’s to enable everyone to get to know each other and maybe even get the collaborative juices flowing. There is a message board specifically to curate any funding opportunities, including fellowships, grants, travel funds and awards. It occasionally includes reminders for upcoming deadlines and is a great place to share helpful advice for the application process. There is a board for science life i.e. when someone is reading something interesting, learning a new technique, celebrating papers published or grants won. Most importantly, there is a board from Human Life - where someone can ask for advice, tell a story or post photos of their kids (or dogs or cats). In science I find it all to easy to forget that we are all human beings and I honestly believe this needs to become a bigger part of the conversation.

Fast-forward two and a half months, and we have ten members. One of my main personal goals for 2018 is to grow this community, to help connect those in a similar situation such that they too can access all the benefits of being in a rapdily evolving scientific research hub. It may work, it may not, but I feel it is my responsibility to at least try to pass along the great fortune I have enjoyed so far.

If you’d like to get involved, have any suggestions or comments please get in touch - I’d love to hear from you!

a year in review

Wed, 10 Jan 2018 10:50:36 +0000

This week kicks off 2018, and can I just say - about bloody time.

I know I’m not the only one - but 2017 was a bit of a roller coaster for me, both personally and professionally. I started a new job, in a new city, working in a new field. I made new friends, rented a new apartment, joined a new gym, and bought two new cars. My partner and I learnt new things about one another, and together we set a new personal best for flights between Melbourne and Sydney in a year. Between all of the new, a few old habits reared their ugly head - I worked consistently 10, 11, 12 hour days, weeknights and weekends. When I wasn’t at work, I was thinking about work. About how much I had to learn, and how out of depth I was. My old friend Impostor Syndrome came to visit, and set up camp on my new couch for a solid four to five months. Old health issues came back to bite me. It took me a really long time to feel at home in the lab again (settling into a new lab space after 4 solid years in your old one is hard, note to self), and I found it hard to balance my expectations with the reality of what was physically achievable in a single day. Lesson one of 2017 was balance, above all else. Balance is essential for mental and physical health, and without it you will drown.

Perhaps worst of all, I said yes. Consistently, for 9 months, I said yes to taking every meeting, trying every experiment, attending every outing… I was terrified of missing out on that most important opportunity. Six months into my new job, I was already juggling more than 10 ‘projects’ - each of which was substantial enough to occupy an honours student for a year - and had little idea which of them was actually paying my rent. Instead of giving myself a chance to settle in, maybe tackle a few key projects that would quickly generate data, I tried to chip away at everything and wound up floundering amongst a sea of failed experiments and next to no progress. I was burnt out, and looking for any way to slink off into the darkness and away from the academic career I had been working toward for the past decade. Lesson number two of 2017 was that it is ok, and in fact important, to say no. Sometimes. A handful of productive projects are better than a wealth of failing ones. It’s ok to be up front with your limitations - some people (the good ones) will respect you even more for it.

Despite all the heartache, I didn’t quit. Sometimes, hanging on for dear life is enough. I have a beautiful partner who reminded me everyday of why we were here. I have wonderful friends and family who boast proudly about this crazy scientist they know. These are the things that keep you going. Lesson number three of 2017 was keep these people close. They are your life blood.

Towards the end of the year, the waters started to smooth. I kicked my ImpSyn friend off the couch, made daily exercise a priority and devoted some time to personal goals. One of those was this (which I admit is still a work in progress). I also enrolled in an online course to pursue some extra-curricula computer programming skills. I finally engaged with Twitter (and oh what a wonderful, welcoming community I have found there). I worked to connect all my fabulous women friends in science as we go our separate ways for now (more on that later). Lesson number four of 2017 was don’t be afraid to know your goals, and to prioritise them. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Even if it’s only small steps once a week or once a month, every little bit of effort will take you one step closer to your goal. And life is too short to keep these goals hidden out of fear.

The year came to a close in a wonderful corner of the New South Wales south coast. We beached, waterskiied, flew kites, ate tremendous icecream and slept. I had eight (yes, eight!) whole days without opening my computer, or even thinking about work. Those eight days were the happiest I spent in 2017, and after them I felt like I had opened the floodgates. In the back of my mind, I started to develop experiment ideas, fellowship projects and potential collaborative ventures. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to get back to work to put things in motion. Lesson number five of 2017 is that in order to go fast, you must first go slow. A few people whom I deeply respect have mentioned this before, but it wasn’t until my summer holiday that I truly understood their meaning. This is my 2018 mantra.

These lessons, despite being painful to learn, have opened the door to an exhilarating 2018. I’m heading to three conferences over the next five weeks, which will mark my first national conference oral presentations. I’m attending a summer school, where I get to focus solely on developing my programming skills for six days straight. I am working on Fellowship applications which, if successful, will have me headed overseas in no time. My friends-in-STEM community continues to grow. For the first time in a while, I am excited about the upcoming few months. After the butt-kicking 2017 gave me, I finally feel like 2018 is the time to fight back.

Here’s to 2018. May it be full of science, love, laughter, growth and success for you all x

My toolbox: 2018 Edition

Tue, 28 Nov 2017 10:27:50 +0000

After coming back from a wonderful conference, I feel refreshed. I heard a lot about the state of my field of research, the cutting edge ideas and the direction our research is taking. You can read more about it .

Of course this aspect of science is important - the research outcomes, equipment and techniques we use are all critical pieces of information that make up the substance of oral and poster presentations. However, this year’s conference brought with it a stark realisation. I feel there is a large part of the conversation that is missing that is equally as important.

In fact, I think it is the true essence of how it is that we do what we do.

How do we, on a daily basis, manage a varied and conflicting schedule with experimental, administration and personal demands? What are the tools and techniques the help us balance these elements with efficiency and efficacy, ensuring nothing falls through the cracks?

I guess in a sense what I am talking about is a best practice discussion for the practicalities of doing research. Not a one size fits all approach, but at least a discussion of how the tools I use are beneficial and what I think I could use or need more of. While this may not fit a conference panel, here is my current toolbox.

This one is definitely top of the list, one of the more recent additions but easily the most life changing. This is essentially my digital brain, the place where I collect, sort and store information. Everything from web clippings (using my handy integrated chrome extension), papers of interest, post ideas, project ideas, meeting notes to shopping lists - it all lives here. Completely synced across all my devices, and easily searchable. All of the major ’life’ aspects have a notebook folder (e.g. manuscripts I’m coauthoring) with notebooks for each element (e.g. “Paper Name #327”), and individual notes for each idea or aspect of that element (e.g. introduction ideas, responding to reviewers comments etc). I think of this as a virtual brain dump - so that as long as I remember a particular piece of information is in evernote, I know it will always be there when I need it.

My digital assistant. I use Calendar to manage meetings, equipment bookings and deadlines. In addition, the daily tasks feature keeps track of experiment steps or analysis projects. For me, this is one of the most crucial features, for a couple of reasons. First, tasks can be assigned to a specific day and live above that day in the calendar. This makes it easy to see what I need to do for the day, as well as what times I will have to play with. Second, I get to tick off completed tasks! I have found the most effective way to keep momentum is to break everything into small, manageable elements, so 8-10 specific tasks that give me a sense of accomplishment each time I tick off something. Finally (and most importantly) tasks are easily reassigned to other days using drag and drop. This means that it is so easy to be flexible, and doesn’t require tasks to be rewritten as with typical hand written to-do lists.

Drive at the moment is simply my backup storage place that provides some functionality when my hard drive is not plugged in. In some situtations it is really helpful to share documents and easily manage sharing permissions, although I dislike having to download and resync non-google files. I am still figuring out how best to incorporate this into my workflow.

Basically a freeware version of adobe Illustrator, I use Inkscape for all figure preparation. This includes figures destined for manuscripts, posters, or presentations. But also just as a neat way to collate image data from experiments. I am yet to come across something that I have wanted to do with a figure that Inkscape can’t handle. There is a relatively steep learning curve, but for a piece of free software it is remarkably versatile. One thing I will note is that it does not play well with iOS (admittedly this is not from personal experience, but from colleagues who have had a tough time getting started), however windows works well.

& : As a self-taught python enthusiast, I am always looking for the best way to write, edit and run code to analyse my ever-growing data sets. This is my current configuration (although I have been through many others - Spyder, Jupyter, Sublime to name a few) and I am happy with the ease with which I can run scripts within atom, as well as manage my git commits with a few keyboard shortcuts. As someone relatively new to git version control, being able to see the folder layout and files which require an updated commit is incredibly helpful. Also, the ability to test, then tweak my code using attached iPython kernels within the editor is a great time saver.

Until very recently, I was an EndNote purist. I was first given access during my Undergraduate degree, and it did a wonderful job at managing my bibliography compared to the manual method. So I amassed a reference library, despite many issues leaving me disgruntled, and established a pipleline that included downloading the referencing file, downloading and saving the pdf separately, and then linking the two together using EndNote. To find articles, I would search in EndNote then locate the pdf and open it to view my notes and highlighted sections. If I lost you there - apologies - but it goes to illustrate my point: long and tedious. I have recently rediscovered Mendeley, and in terms of accessibility to my articles and notes, and ease of import, Mendeley beats EndNote hands down: click the Mendeley extension in my browser (or drag and drop to import a pdf), add notes/highlight and that’s it. All managed and searchable within a single program, again synced across all my devices. There are still a few kinks to work out (sometimes the imported reference information is a little clunky) but overall much more functional.

I have recently come across the idea of ‘story-boarding’ an article during the initial planning and write-up phases. Coming into a new lab, my writing style was at odds with my new boss and needed a little TLC - I am great at the technical reporting language but struggle to tell a narrative. The basic idea behind story-boarding is to layout the elements of a manuscript as discrete chunks and move them around like puzzle pieces to get the flow right. This also helps to identify holes - more experiments or more detailed analysis etc. I am using Trello as a way to trial this concept - each manuscript gets a ‘board’, the lists correspond to ‘Intro’, ‘Methods’, etc. and cards are tiny chunks - text prompts for the intro, individual figures or panels for the results. While this is the newest addition to my workflow, and firmly still in the trial phases, I am pleased with the outcomes so far. It has encouraged me to think about what papers I am working towards (helping to focus my research), as well as getting me thinking about the story to go with it.

So there you have it - my toolbox. It’s worthwhile noting that many of these I adopted from watching/hearing how someone else achieves a particular goal and making it work for me. I hope you find something new and useful, or maybe you have some ideas for something better? Feel free to let me know in the comments - I’d love to learn from you!

ideas on what helps and hinders symposium speakers

Mon, 27 Nov 2017 20:28:25 +0000

During the recent , a friend was scheduled to give a talk about her work. Sitting in the audience watching a parade of marvellous speakers is a special kind of torture, when you are convinced you could not possibly achieve a similar performance. I should know - until the very last year of my PhD, I was not a very talented communicator either. However, after a venture overseas and a stint in a different lab, I found my voice. I wouldn’t say I’m brilliant (far from it), but I have realised the importance of this aspect of science communication and worked hard at being able to at least stomach the idea.

My friend asked how I’d done it. How do you overcome the paralysing fear most people associate with public speaking? I didn’t really have an answer for her at the time - I encouraged her to be confident, which is of course the main ingredient. However, I have thought about it since then, and while watching the remaining conference talks I came across a few things that as an audience member I think can make or break a presentation.

1. Don’t repeat your talk name and title - people can read the program and your first slide (we are mostly smart cookies after all), and it is the job of a good session to chair (also presumably a smart cookie) to give those details when they introduce you. Instead, open by thanking the organisers for the opportunity to present some exciting new work, and a one line teaser to grab the audience - tell them why they should pay attention RIGHT NOW, and not wait until five minutes into your talk. If you don’t have them at the beginning, there will be no getting them back.

2. Oh, you’re skipping your introduction? Because EVERYONE ELSE has given this intro? At a conference specifically about your topic? NO WAY?! Think about your audience early on in the talk’s preparation stage and don’t be afraid to adjust on Day 1 of a three day event. If available, check out the program/other abstracts early, highlight talks with relevance to yours and gauge the level of any remaining introduction that you will need to give. Being able to refer to someone else’s intro not only shows you have engaged with the symposium but also gives you more time to go through the exciting bits (your results!)

3. Keep it simple, stupid. Most of the time you will have a very short window in which to convey your story, which will inevitably be the result of months and months of your blood, sweat and tears. Trying to cram too much into this time window makes your story confusing and hard to follow (10 tiny bar graphs on one slide, anyone?) and people will loose interest. Focus on a simple message, tell people what they need to understand that message, tell them what the message is, then reiterate why your message is important. Simple. As a bonus, people will chase down details with questions, avoiding the dreaded crickets-and-tumbleweeds at the end of a particularly confusing or dense talk.

4. Following on from this, constantly telling people you don’t have time to present this, that or the other (in an effort to keep the slides simple), sounds arrogant and selfish - figure out a story that you CAN tell in the allocated time and reiterate that you are happy to talk details during the breaks.

5. Fake it till you make it. This one has stood the test of time, and for good reason. So much of our perception of a good presenter is taken from their physical cues - and that stems entirely from confidence. If you are nervous beyond belief and terrified of doing something wrong, that will inevitably come through in your body language. If you own your talk and your work, that will come across instead. I think of this like you are the pilot of a plane - if you sound scared and uncertain, your passengers are going to be unsettled and anxious, leading to this cycle of negative reinforcement. If instead you get on the PA system, calmly detail the weather or flight plan (how would they really know how high you’re going to fly??) and make them believe you are in control of the situation, your passengers (the audience) will be calm and the atmosphere relaxed. Everyone will make it out alive and live happily ever after. Or so we hope.

Got any good tips that I’ve missed? Let me know your secret ingredient!

a few words on why I'm here

Sun, 26 Nov 2017 09:15:24 +0000

Truth be told, I don’t know that even I am sure why I am here. But if I am honest, I think the idea has been tumbling around, gathering dust, in the back of my brain for a while.

In 2013, I travelled to Cambridge, UK for 6 months as part of my postgraduate research. I had many people who asked for updates and photos of my travels, and the first ‘site’ I ever established began with that in mind. To this day, it has never progressed. I was always intimidated by putting my thoughts on ‘paper’ and the idea that I would spend time writing non-scientific pieces seemed ludicrous during my PhD. However, I am starting to understand the value of this process.

“Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on” - Louis L’Amour

So my goal is to write. To ramble, in fact! Many of the blogs I regularly read give similar things - a sense of reassurance that the way I feel and the experiences I have in the world of science are not unique, and I am not alone. My thoughts may not be that helpful, interesting or insightful, but it will be me. Conquering my fear. Maybe that is all I can hope for.If you’re reading this, thanks for jumping on board with me. I really appreciate your support and hope you find something of value to add to your scientific journey.