Anonymous Entomological Punditry on the Internet

[This is part of a series of posts about writing, entomology, and career development that are linked to my upcoming Entomological Society of America talk in November.]

I get a surprising number of emails from reporters asking for interviews, or podcast requests, or other questions related to some of the debunking posts I’ve published about different bits of media nonsense.

“Are you a bee expert?” one of the reporters asked once.
“No, I’m a bee pundit,” I replied.  ”I’m like the Lorax, except I speak for bees, not trees.”

Later, I realized punditry was actually a pretty good description for where I’ve plopped myself in the blogosphere.  I am, literally, a talking (blue) head that people accept as having some sort of authority about bugs.  I don’t write about my personal research much, but I try to translate the insect research of others and life in academia into regular human speak.  And I provide color commentary, usually with more F words that the average pundit, but that’s how I roll.

Had I used my real name, I could have quite a bit to add to my professional Vita (Curriculum vita is just a fancy academic way to say resume).  In Academia, size matters.  The fatter your vita is with publications and invited talks, the more well hung you are–in a scholarly sense, of course.

But I have stayed Bug Girl for many years, even at live appearances at Cons, and at the Entomological Society of America National Conference.  Why?
I thought it might be helpful for students starting out as bloggers, or established scientists pondering blogging as a means of outreach, to talk about the tradeoffs between real name and anonymity and career implications.

I’ve actually used the nickname “Bug Girl” since the early 90s–it was my first personal email address in 1993. Back then in the land of listservs and bulletin boards, women were fairly rare, and it was helpful to not have an immediately identifiable identity.

I also had an….interesting career path, and I left my first tenured position over an academic freedom dispute. I wanted to teach evolution as a well-established fact.  My position was similar to that of this recently fired prof:

“Science is the litmus test on the validity of the educational enterprise. If a school teaches real science, it’s a pretty safe bet that all other departments are sound. If it teaches bogus science, everything else is suspect…. I want a real college, not one that rejects facts, knowledge, and understanding because they conflict with a narrow religious belief.

It was useful to have a nickname where I could solicit advice online about the Dean’s instructions to soft-pedal evolution without publicly identifying myself.  And over time, this led to path dependence–rather than making a strategic decision between My RealID and a pseudonym, I drifted into the online identity of Bug Girl because of a bunch of random decisions from 20 years ago. Those decisions were made well before blogging was a “thing.”   It turned out, though, that it was a good decision, because as I began to be successful in my post-faculty career, I discovered that blogging was not only a thing, it was a bad thing as far as most of my bosses were concerned.

There are actually laws on the books on several states banning state employees from lobbying, or using their government positions to influence politics or the media. That is a reasonable restriction–it would not be appropriate for me to use an official .gov or .edu email, for example, to lobby for a specific candidate.  If you are high enough on the food chain that you manage large sums of money, lots of people, or set policy, then linking your real identity to a sometimes ribald blog can be a big deal.  Especially if you are in a job where you are not part of a union, not tenured, and basically serve at the pleasure of the provost.

I’ve tried to keep plausible deniability with my identity.   By not linking my name and Bug Girl’s, I can at least make sure that a Google search by one of my students will not turn up a post of me yelling F-bombs at Nintendo or disclose details of my rape.  My boss will not know for sure that I am an atheist (which, based on her comments that “those people have no moral compass” is probably for the best.)  I’ve  had several stalkers over the years, and I can be reasonably sure I won’t wake up, look outside my window, and see creepy dude #6 parked in my driveway.  It also helps that there are a lot of other Bug Girls online.

There are a lot of reasons (which I have articulated in detail elsewhere) that this online identity makes me feel safer.  Now that my new job has moved me near the Provost’s office, Bug Girl is honestly a better reflection of who I really am. Diplomacy and tact are now a major part of my day to-day-work life.  Anyone who knows me realizes this is an inherently unstable situation. To paraphrase one of my favorite blues songs, “It’s in her and its got to come out!”  Most of my friends call me Bug, and certainly my writing here gets several orders of magnitude more exposure than my scientific publications ever did or will.  I AM BUG GIRL.

Here’s something important you should never forget, though.  Your secret online identity exists only because of the kindness of strangers.  As hard as you try, you CAN be identified.  It’s only politeness that keep your online friends and readers from outing you.

It isn’t hard to find examples where science bloggers that use their real names–and that have known employers–have had disgruntled readers contact their boss.  It isn’t hard to find examples where a decision has been made by the higher ups that silence is better than controversy, even if the information provided online is correct.

There is no way to blog–anonymously or not– and never have it affect your career.  Your blogging had better be something that you enjoy, and that you are willing to defend to your family and your boss. When you are outed, all the F-bombs you’ve dropped will come crashing down on you if the only thing you did with your bully pulpit was trash your coworkers.

Blogging is a great outlet for my creativity (which is not expressed by writing official memos, trust me) and for my warped sense of humor.  I write for ME as much as anything, to challenge myself to make science as entertaining and interesting to non-scientists.  I am amazed at how successful I’ve been, which I think has more to do with being in the right place at the right time than the content I produce.

The way to be a better writer is to write more.  And so I did.

I think I’ve gotten better, but I still have a long way to go.

Related posts:

Advice for successful career decisions

One of the things I do more or less full time now is give students unsolicited advice.  I talk to both graduate students and undergraduates, and they are mostly worried about the same things:

  • Did I make the right choice when I decided to study ____?
  • Will I get a good job?  Is *this* job (graduate program/major/whatever) the one for me?

puppy!

I actually have a mathematical formula that I use to help people figure out when they are in the right major or the right job, or if a career change is a good idea.  And I’m going to give it to you, for free, because you read my blog, and are, Post hoc ergo prompter hoc ipso facto, cool.

Ready?

Here it is.

Job = Puppy

Yep. A job is like a puppy.  When you first get a job (or start a degree program), it’s wonderful and cool. Here, look –>

Doesn’t that make you smile?

Puppies are awesome. And if you have an actual puppy, you realize that puppies also have some downsides. Like…..poop.

There is no such thing as a poopless puppy.
There is also no such thing as a job with no shitty tasks.

The trick is to find a job that maximizes what I call the cute to poop ratio.

In other words, the quantity

recipe for happinessmust be greater than one.

If  the cute of your job is overwhelmed by the poop–it’s time to start looking for a new job.

I’ve made some really radical career changes–including walking away from a tenure-track faculty position.  Each time it was because the amount of poop in the job became overwhelming, and drowned out all the fun and cute elements.

Obviously, right now is not the easiest time to be starting a career, or make a career change.  Other things can modify this equation; health care benefits, for example, can turn a negative cute : poop ratio into a positive for me, at least in the short term.  If you are someone just starting out on your career path, taking a job that is not exactly what you want may also balance out, so you can get your foot in the door and start building a resume.

Just don’t stay in a job where the crap piles up around you and you are miserable longer than you have to be.
Life is short.  There has to be a balance.

Thus endeth today’s sermon. Back to bugs tomorrow!

How Undergraduate and Graduate School are different

Since I got so many questions, I thought I would pontificate a bit longer on the graduate school question, and turn it into a series of posts.  Let’s start with the decision to go to graduate school, and how graduate study is very different from being an undergraduate.

Several jobs ago, I wrote up a chart that laid out how undergraduate study and graduate school are different.  It’s surprising to me how many undergraduates I talk to think that grad school is just a bunch more classes at a higher level.

Here’s my original comparison chart:

Undergraduate
Graduate

Many courses outside the field are required as general education requirements. Classes are the sole means of evaluation for graduation.

Students complete an in-depth study of one field and enter into an extended research apprenticeship with a faculty member.  The primary means of evaluation for graduation is a research project or thesis, judged by a faculty committee.

Students may remain enrolled and continue progress on their degree even if GPA falls below a 3.0.

Minimum GPA for continuing enrollment is a 3.0.

Most courses are very large. Four years of coursework are completed.  Involvement with faculty is largely at the initiation of the student.

All courses are small, and involvement with faculty is direct and extensive.  Usually only one year of coursework is completed.

Students finance their own education.

Students receive tuition support and stipends that pay most of the cost of their education.

Students are expected to work independently and produce high quality results, as measured by a GPA.

Students are expected to work independently and produce high quality results, as measured by research, publication, and presentations judged by senior peers.

You learn what is already known.

You learn to create new knowledge.

Graduate school admission is actually admission into a community of scholars.  If research is what you do, scholarship is how you think about it.  Sure, graduate school is focused on independent research.  But the work of a scholar also means stepping back from your data, building connections between theory and practice, and communicating your new knowledge effectively.

Part of why graduate school is so stressful relates to the differences listed above between undergraduate and graduate study.  As an undergraduate, the emphasis is on knowing the answers, and getting stuff right on tests.   As a graduate student, you don’t know the answers. No one knows the answers.  That’s why it’s a research problem!  But to a student that’s been trained for 4 years as an undergraduate to regurgitate the “right answer” on exams, this transition to not knowing can be really difficult.

To make it even harder, the story of research is a story of failure.  You will fail a LOT in grad school.  You’ll discover that your apparatus should have been built a different way, that a lightning storm knocked out power and your DNA samples thawed, that you should have laid out your plots differently, and that you just plain screwed up on something. Again and again and again.

Because undergrads that go to graduate school are typically high-achieving successful types, this constant failure can be shocking.  You are doing something for the first time. No one really knows how it should be done, so it’s OK if you fail, as long as you learn from it.   And, frankly, the story of LIFE is the story of failure.  Being able to persist when things don’t go your way, and figure out a Plan B (C, D, E…..) is an important life skill.

The last difference I’ll point out is about stress. As an undergraduate, there are short periods of high stress when there are exams, and stress mostly comes from sources external to you. In graduate school, the test is every day, 24/7.  The main source of your stress is…you.

Your thesis can begin to feel like a bastard love child that you can’t stand to have anyone else criticize and that takes over your life.  You can go from doing a happy data dance around the lab to feeling like you’ve made a colossal mistake by going to graduate school.  You’ll suspect the Academia Police are going to come and toss you out for your stupidity at any minute. This cycle from high to low can happen within a period of a couple hours on any given day.

Feeling like an imposter is a classic graduate school malady.  It wasn’t a mistake they let you in. You’ll be fine, especially if you know what to expect.

Expect graduate school to be radically different than your undergraduate experience.  You’ll love it.

Bug Girl’s Graduate School Series:

External Resources:

Oh, the Irony….

The day after I posted how much I loved living on site at my job, I found out I’ll be cut to 50% next June; that’s effectively a layoff. It was probably inevitable that the state budget cuts would catch up to me.

The thing I will miss most about this job will actually be the Trumpeter Swans. (This is a photo that I took near my front door.)   I never was a birder until I took this job; it was all about the bugs. But I completely fell in love with Trumpeters living on this lake.

They are big, not terribly bright, and incredibly soft.  They have HUGE feet. Add in a recovery from near extinction and fluffy cygnets, and they’re impossible to resist.

But, while it will be hard to say goodbye to my awesome co-workers, students, and the swans, I’m kind of excited about the possibility of a completely new start.  Those of you who have been reading my blog for a while now know this job was waaay beyond a 40hr/wk employment experience; I wasn’t able to have much of a life other than work.  Aside from a rather spherical cat, I don’t have any dependents anymore; I am free to move anywhere I want.

I’ve spent some time thinking about what I want to do with the next 15 years until I can (in theory) retire.  I know what I’m good at; in fact, despite some considerable challenges, I think I’ve done some of the best work of my career in this job.  I’m good at social media and instructional design; I’m good with students, and I’m a good teacher and manager.  Somehow, if I can sort out how to combine that with bugs or nature-y stuff, I’ll be all set.

It’s clear to me that I need to do more hands-on stuff to really be happy. I’ve been applying for some very long shot jobs that I’m quite geeked about, but I don’t expect to successfully land.

The hard part is explaining why someone with a PhD wants to be a low-level flunky.  I’ve done the high-level admin thing. I climbed up the career ladder, and I found out the stuff towards the top is a lot less interesting to me than what’s at the bottom.

I would much rather be cleaning poop out of cages than planning a grant to fund the cages and poop cleaners, or create a multi-year strategic poop plan.

If you happen to know of any poopy jobs opening in the near future, please send them my way.

Where should I look for a job?

One of the most common questions I get from students around this time of year is “Where should I look for a job?”

The question they actually are asking is “where ONLINE should I look for a job?”, and it’s the wrong question.  The vast majority of jobs for students are filled informally, without a search.

I always have extra work, and when I manage to have money + work that needs to be done, I usually tend to hire people I know–either a good past student, or someone recommended by a friend.

For full-time jobs, the question is a bit more relevant, but still, applying online doesn’t yield the results that using your network of contacts will.  If I happen to know someone involved in a search, and I send them a copy of your recommendation letter directly….yeah, that immediately moves your resume up to the top of the pile.

So, before I give you my list of places online to look at:  Let me ask, what is the ratio of time you are spending pasting your resume online to the amount of time spent chatting with your friends and professional contacts about where you want to go?

My favorite places to look for Ecological/Environmental type jobs:

Two other things to try:

  1. There are a lot of new job indexes that basically work by harvesting other websites. Indeed.com is a good example of that type of service.
  2. Don’t forget to look at local university and state websites! While the funding may be shaky long term, for those starting out in the job market, there are usually lots of opportunities.

Have I missed an important resource? Please suggest it in the comments!
[Note: I will be especially harsh on spammers for this post--if you are suggesting a link, it needs to relate specifically to finding job postings in environmental science/conservation]

Additional Career Advice: 

Career Tip #7: First impressions

I can’t tell you how much first impressions count when I have a posted position open, and I get calls from candidates.  Many of them seem to have missed learning some of the basic rules of job hunting. As a service, I provide them here:

Rule 1: Do your homework.
If the job posting has an address, a business name, and our website on it, look on a map. Use Teh Google.

Please do not call me and ask where our organization is located,  or what we do.  You should already have read/researched enough to figure that out when you call–or at least have some idea!  Cluelessness: never a good first impression.

Rule 2: Never. Never. EVER. Say bad things about your previous supervisors.
Most people know that they shouldn’t do this in an interview, but it seems like outside that setting they forget it’s still a no-no.  Don’t blame your past failure in a job on a past boss that was “jealous” or say your expertise was stifled.  There are nicer ways to say that.

“The job wasn’t a good match for me.” “I felt like I needed new challenges.”

Yes, I will know what you are implying, but it shows you know enough to at least not blame others for what happened. No one has a perfect job situation, ever. However, if all of your past bosses had issues…perhaps they are not the problem?

Rule 3: Relax! But, don’t relax.
This is one of the things that makes interviewing so hard.  You don’t want to appear so uptight and over-caffeinated that you can’t function. You also don’t want to relax so much you are tempted to make remarks that might, say, disparage your previous boss, tell me you may have a drinking problem, or let me know you think Obama’s birth certificate is a fake.

An interview is NOT a conversation. It is a sales meeting.  You need to sell me your product–YOU.  What are your strengths? Why are you a good match? Identify those core messages before you call me.

I don’t like talking on the phone, so I’m pretty sympathetic to an awkward science type that blunders around a little. I actually write down notes when I’m making an important phone call, so I know my lines. But help me out here with a little homework, K?

Career Tip # 6: REU Applications

Do not print your cover letter for an NSF Research Experience for Undergraduates on Hello Kitty paper.

Seriously.

Had it not also come with transcripts attached, I’d think some of you were just messing with me.

Other things you should not do when applying:

  • Don’t have an email that is something along the lines of asss69@yahoo.com for your primary contact
  • Don’t email me DAILY with questions about your application, the process, and if we’ve made a decision yet
  • Don’t start your letter with “Dear Sir” if I am NOT a SIR.
  • Don’t use Babelfish to translate your emails. I’m pretty sure that’s how this sentence was created:  “If there is any information I can render you with, please ask.”

Related posts:

Dear Parent….

When you email me about an internship I’ve posted, and tell me YOU are looking for an internship for your son/daughter, that pretty much puts the kibosh on me ever hiring your kid right there.  (BTW, It’s especially not helpful if you use the words “lost”, “adrift”, or “confused” to describe your child.)

I’m sympathetic. Figuring out what you want to do in the world is hard. But any student over the age of 18 should be able to write me their own damn email.

If your kid isn’t with it enough to seek me out on their own, then I’m not about to let them near my research. Sorry.

The Collegiate Employment Research Institute found that 23% of employers reported parents were involved in the hiring process “often” to “fairly often.”  In fact, some recruiters reported parents came to the interview with the student.

That’s messed up. Please don’t be a parentzilla.

Related posts:

Helpful hint to Academic Jobseekers

If you send me your CV via email, and tell me you really want to work at our wonderful university, you should probably use BCC to hide the fact that you sent exactly the same letter to 16 other institutions.

Not CC, so I can see all their addresses.

Just a hint.

Additional Career Advice:

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 4,696 other followers