The great career juggle – can science research do it?

Phew! I’ve finally submitted my PhD thesis and I now have some time to get back to the blog.

After months and years of avoiding the question: “When are you going to hand it?”, I’m now trying to duck everyone’s next question: “What are you going to do now?” So much for basking in the glory and the relief that you’re meant to feel after handing in three and a half years of work – that seemed to last no more than the time it took me to walk from the science faculty back to my desk!

It’s not that I don’t know what I want to do, it’s just that other PhD students and academics make some really confused facial expressions when I tell them about my career plans. At the moment, I’m working a few part-time jobs in different areas of science teaching and science communication and I’m really enjoying it so far. That said, I’d really like to continue doing some research on the side as well, but is that possible? If not, why not?

It seems that the only way to do science research is to make it a full-time career. The traditional career trajectory of a successful researcher is from PhD to a post-doc position, and then perhaps another post-doc, and then a lecturing job, and then, if you’re really good, a professorship. Post-docs, lecturers and professors are generally full-time academics; part-time academic positions are few and far between. Unfortunately, those lucky enough to land these jobs may find themselves struggling to be taken seriously by their full-time peers.

Are part-time academics being left at the bottom of the pile when it comes to winning grant money?

The Australian workforce is undergoing a process of casualization, where more and more jobs are being made into part-time and casual positions rather than full-time ones. I understand that part-time and casual positions may offer less job security, which is a real problem for some people, but I can see some definite advantages of this type of employment.

Part-time and casual roles allow greater career flexibility, provide work opportunities for parents with young families, and encourage young people to gain a wide set of skills while working in different and varied roles. With young people now expected to change jobs and careers more often than members of previous generations, job security will come from being employable, adaptable and flexible, rather than simply being employed.

So, will science research roles follow suit as other careers embrace part-time and casual employment? Interestingly, the University of Melbourne’s Human Resources website encourages their staff to improve their employability by engaging in different types of work arrangements, including full-time, part-time, contract and self employment. Whether this advice really applies to academics and researchers is another story.

Some scientists may lack the transferrable skills required to make a career change

Given that a large part of being a researcher is competing with other researchers for grant money, I can completely understand why the default career in science research involves a full-time position. Full-time academics can devote more time to writing grants and papers, and their career, therefore, progresses faster than that of someone dedicating only part of their time and mind space to the job.

However, there are signs that things are changing. Many funding bodies, including the Australian Research Council (ARC), are now assessing the track record of academics “relative to opportunity”, which takes into account how an academic’s research and publication record may be affected by changes from full-time to part-time work. After browsing the ARC’s consultation paper on the peer review process for grants, I can see how concessions for “track record relative to opportunity” certainly apply to researchers who are forced to move to part-time work, due to situations such as family or carer responsibilities or illness. It isn’t clear, however, how this concession would apply to people who are able to work full-time but choose not to.

It will certainly be interesting to watch whether careers in science research and academia will become more flexible in the future. Given my pipe-dreams of continuing to do research on a part-time basis, I just hope that I won’t be watching from the sidelines.

Ancient lizard pregnant for 120 million years

The fossilised lizard Yabeinosaurus tenuis was pregnant with at least fifteen babies at the time it died (Original photo: Jie Zhang/Susan Evans)

Scientists have discovered the oldest-known fossil of a live-bearing lizard. The fossilised remains of the ancient pregnant lizard, dated between 120 and 125 million years old, show the skeletons of more than fifteen developing embryos in utero.

The earliest live-bearing (viviparous) lizards were thought to have originated during glacial episodes in the Pleistocene, no earlier than two million years ago. However, the recent discovery of the fossil suggests live birth evolved at a similar time in both lizards and mammals.

Susan Evans, a professor from the University College London and co-author of the journal article published in Naturwissenschaft, discovered the fossil in Lower Cretaceous geological deposits in the Jehol region of Northeast China.

“We previously thought that lizards adapted to live birth after mammals, but now it looks like it happened at roughly the same kind of time,” Evans told PhysOrg.com.

The fossilised lizard, identified as Yabeinosaurus tenuis, was most certainly viviparous; Evans found no trace of an eggshell surrounding the embryos and their skeletons indicate they were almost fully developed and probably within days of being born.

Susan Evans, co-author of the research, determined the developmental stage of the embryos by studying their tiny skeletons (Original photo: Jie Zhang/Susan Evans)

There are very few examples of fossilised pregnant reptiles, since it is incredibly rare that the skeletal remains of embryos are well-preserved in the fossil. Previous fossils have revealed that some ancient aquatic reptiles were also viviparous, but this is the most ancient primarily land-dwelling viviparous lizard to be discovered.

In the past, some “pregnant” fossils were in fact cases of cannibalism, where the remains of a juvenile reptile in the gut of an adult were mistaken for an embryo. However, there is no mistaking these embryos for this fossilised lizard’s lunch - the positions of the fifteen little skeletons correspond to the location of the paired uteri found in modern-day lizards.

My birthday card!

I turned 25 yesterday, so here's a lizard bustin' a move - thanks Hope!

I'm a Scientist, Get Me Out of Here!

Why do mirages form? Why can birds sit on powerlines and not be electrocuted? What is string theory?

These are just some of the burning questions Australian high school students had during June on “I’m a Scientist, Get Me Out of Here!”

“I’m a Scientist, Get Me Out of Here!” is an online science event targeting high school students in Years 7 to 9. Successfully orchestrated in the UK since 2008, a pilot of the program was run recently in Australia from June 14 to 24. I was one of fifteen scientists selected to take part in the event.

Up for a challenge? Try explaining string theory to a class of teenagers in an online chat session!

The program is an opportunity for high school students to chat online to real-life scientists about science research and careers in science. The hope is that students learn more about what it means to do science, while the scientists learn to explain and communicate complex science simply, concisely and in an entertaining way.

We created online profiles so that the students could get to know us a little – we explained the sorts of things we do each day as scientists, our research interests, and what we like to do in our spare time.

Students then posted questions on the site for the scientists to answer. These often required creative answers to pique students’ interest, since other competing scientists (Full credit to them!) had usually provided an answer before I’d read the question. Some of these questions were really insightful, while others were hilarious. My favourites would have to include “If I stand next to gamma radiation, will I turn into the Hulk?”, and “Do miniature dachshunds get nipple rash when pregnant?”

Teachers also booked their classes in for live MSN-style chat sessions, during which students fired questions at us scientists and waited for our answers during the chat. It was frantic but strangely exhilarating typing like a maniac to give two or three line answers to questions like “How did the big bang happen?”, “Why do we dream?”, “What subjects should I pick for year 11 to get into veterinary science?” and “Do you like Justin Bieber?”

Charles Darwin and Albert Einstein had to compete with Justin Bieber for students' attention during some chat sessions

After a week of online questions and chats, the students must decide which scientist they like the best and which one gave the best answers. The fifteen scientists were split up into three zones, each containing five scientists, and the scientist judged the best in each zone won $1000 to put towards a science communication project of their choice.

But the judging process was brutal! Like the reality TV shows, “I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!” and “Big Brother”, scientists were dumped from the competition one by one during daily evictions. Our future in the competition hung in the balance as fickle teenagers decided our fate. What makes a scientist “better” than another in the eyes of a thirteen year old?

I asked myself – did I answer enough questions? I had answered over one hundred questions online, but there was another fifty I hadn’t had time to get to. Was my profile picture cool enough or was it just corny? Were my answers to the questions interesting enough? In the end, I was the second of the five scientists in my zone to be evicted. A big “EVICTED” banner was posted across my profile picture and I watched the remaining three scientists fight it out, answering question after question, offering really insightful answers for the students.

The final eviction was down to the wire – Aimee, a bubbly honours student from Monash University, was voted the favourite scientist, narrowly beating Mat, a chemistry lecturer from Sydney University. Aimee plans to use the $1000 in prize money to set up a science writing prize for high school students.

Phew! I was relieved that my two frantic weeks of being an online science guru was over, but I’d do it again in a flash and I encourage other scientists to get involved next time round. I found getting immediate feedback from the students during the online chat sessions really rewarding, even addictive – while I might wait weeks or months for results and feedback from my lab work, I could see what the students thought of my answers within a few seconds. I really think online events such as this are an important complement to face-to-face methods of science communication for kids, and I will definitely be tuning in to the next “I’m a Scientist” event.

The perfect beer for getting high

With an enthusiastic home brewer for a boyfriend, I often find myself in small brew pubs listening to other brewers talk about the science behind their craft. Like any good scientists, these brewers invest large amounts of time thoroughly repeating all their experiments, analysing the results and generally spending too much time at the bar.

But some brewers just aren’t satisfied with the challenge of brewing beer for consumption on earth. An unlikely collaboration between a Sydney microbrewery and a space engineering company has lead to an even more unlikely mission: to design and brew a beer that tastes good in space.

The beer, designed to take advantage of the emerging space tourism market, is named “Vostok”, a tribute to the first human spaceflight in history. “Floating in space thousands of kilometres above the earth, looking down at the view – of course you’d want a beer,” explained Jaron Mitchell, Vostok collaborator and owner of the 4-Pines Brewing Company, on ABC radio earlier this month.

The concept has received its share of media attention, complete with corny headlines like “How does Australian space beer taste? It’s out of this world!" and “Beam me up Shhhcotty”, but Mitchell denies Vostok is a novelty beer.

Australia's contribution to the space race may be the world's first space beer

“This is a craft beer. It is meant first for people who love beer so it must taste superb on Earth. It will support the growing space economy by being equally superb in microgravity,” Mitchell says of the beer on his website.

I’m not usually one to get excited by beer. In fact, I don’t even drink it. But there is actually some pretty amusing science that makes the process of brewing and testing a space beer quite impressive.

The baseline recipe for Vostok is a stout, a full-flavoured style of beer that often has a roasted and malty taste. Choosing a flavourful beer was necessary in order to compensate for people’s reduced sense of taste in space. Microgravity conditions in space cause body fluids to be redistributed away from the extremities, leading to facial swelling and nasal congestion. Just as you might feel when you have a cold or allergies, facial swelling in microgravity impairs astronauts’ sense of smell and taste. Swelling of the tongue during space flight may also desensitise the taste buds and astronauts consistently report a craving for flavourful spicy food while on tours of duty on the International Space Station.

Vostok and other stout-style beers are low in carbonation because bubbles cause problems in space. Carbon dioxide bubbles weigh less than the surrounding liquid and rise to the top of your beer or soft drink due to buoyancy. In space, microgravity means that bubbles of carbon dioxide have no appreciable buoyancy in your drink and stay dispensed throughout the drink, making a foamy mess.


Low carbonation will also help to combat what Mitchell describes as “wet burps", a rather inconvenient and embarrassing part of space travel. On earth, gravity and buoyancy causes gas to rise to the top of the stomach so that burps just release air. In space, gravity is insufficient to separate the gas and liquid in the stomach, resulting in burps that release little suspended balls of reflux floating around the spacecraft.

To observe the effects of carbonation on the body in low gravity conditions, the creators of Vostok have tested their beer in parabolic flight trials. Normally used to train astronauts, parabolic flights subject passengers to conditions ranging from almost twice the gravity experienced on earth (1.8 g) to zero gravity (weightlessness). The test subject, who consumed samples of Vostok both during the weightless portions of the parabolic flight as well as back on solid ground, reported minimal effects of carbonation in zero gravity conditions. Further experiments are being planned to test how microgravity may affect how fast alcohol is absorbed by the body in space.

The creators of Vostok will be racing against the clock to have their space beer fully tested and approved before the first suborbital flights in 2012. If you have a spare $200,000, you may be lucky enough to have a tipple of Vostok while looking back at the world below. Meanwhile, the rest of us landlubbers will have to be content to taste space beer with both feet firmly on the ground.

Genetic rescue of pedigree dogs

Cavalier king charles spaniels can suffer syringomyelia, a painful condition in which their brain is too big for their skull. Photo credit: www.takeapaws.com.au

Some of you might remember "Pedigree Dogs Exposed", a BBC documentary that aired on the ABC in late 2009.

The documentary sparked a huge public reaction in both the UK and Australia, as it revealed the serious welfare issues of breeding for certain characteristics in dogs. Perhaps the most chilling example from the doco was that of a cavalier king charles spaniel in agony due to syringomyelia, a condition caused by the dog's skull being too small as a result of deliberate inbreeding.

Scientists are investigating the underlying genetic causes of serious disorders in pedigree dogs with the aim of improving the health and welfare of these animals. The Australian National Kennel Council has promised to adjust breeding standards to improve animal welfare if scientific evidence suggests a link between a disorder and a characteristic that is standard for the breed.

The same gene that causes the characteristic wrinkles of Shar-Pei dogs also predisposes them to familial Shar-Pei fever. Photo credit: www.lasharpei.com

In 2007, geneticists discovered that the genes responsible for the hair ridge in Ridgeback dogs also predisposes these dogs to dermoid sinus.

Just last week, an international team of researchers found that a mutation that causes the characteristic wrinkly skin of Shar-Pei dogs also increases their risk of a life-threatening inflammatory condition called familial Shar-Pei fever (read the whole article in COSMOS here).

Knowledge of the genetic causes of pedigree disorders and diseases will allow the development of screening tests for the defective genes. Those dogs that carry the disease genes can then be removed from the breeding stock, reducing the frequency of the disease gene for future generations.

However, when the disease gene is also responsible for a "desired look" in a breed, as is the case in Ridgebacks and Shar-Pei, dog breeding standards need to be changed to discourage breeding for extreme physical characteristics. Thankfully, there is a strong commitment by the pedigree dog community to breed healthier dogs and many breed standards have been adjusted.

What are your thoughts on pedigree dog breeding? Does your pet dog suffer a condition specific to his or her breed?

So your lab partner is a klutz

I was at the pub last night with a two friends of mine from undergraduate years gone by; we all did a bachelor of science, and while I’ve been doing a PhD in biology, they both started dentistry degrees. While the prospect of looking into someone’s mouth and picking at teeth for a living does not appeal to me, the financial security of dentistry is pretty attractive to a PhD student facing a career as an overqualified dole bludger.

While I listened to my friends talk about probing gum lines, drilling teeth and making moulds for toothless old men, I began to appreciate the degree of manual dexterity needed for a profession such as dentistry. In fact, until only recently, one of the entrance tests for graduate dentistry involved bending a wire into a predetermined shape using pliers. This might seem like a strange benchmark to set for prospective dentists, but if given the choice, I would definitely prefer to visit a dentist who could control a pair of pliers over one who couldn’t.

It got me thinking about the types of hand-eye coordination I need for my research. Fine dissection skills, pipetting into small tubes, handling dangerous chemicals without spilling them. Sure, there are a thousand and one (often annoying) OH&S precautions for preventing accidents in the lab, but the main thing stopping you from dropping that large vial of carcinogenic liquid you’re carrying is your own dexterity and care.

Of course, not everyone is blessed with the fine motor skills necessary to be a dentist or a surgeon. There are probably few who would object to excluding the coordination-challenged from holding sharp pointy things near people’s faces or performing organ transplants. People’s welfare and lives are in the hands of these health professionals.

By the same logic, perhaps there should be a “no klutzes allowed” screening process before scientists be allowed to work in a laboratory. I’m not saying that I’ve never had an accident in the lab, everyone makes mistakes, but there is potentially nothing worse than working in the lab with someone pathologically clumsy.


Observing severe lab klutzes at work can be like watching the proverbial bull in a china shop. Lab partners of serious klutzes may become adept at stopping accidents before they occur, using simple phrases such as “hey, that’s okay, I can carry that huge bottle of sulphuric acid. By the way, how did your dent exam go?”

While working with a lab klutz can also be a serious risk to one’s mental health, it may also be a “character building” experience. Repeating experiments after someone dropped a week’s worth of your samples can only make you a stronger person, right?

Do you work in the lab with an extreme klutz? Was your chemistry lab partner in undergrad a complete liability? Alternatively, for those who suspect they might be the culprit of more than their fair share of lab accidents, you can meet like-minded people on Facebook.

Decoding a rampant disease

Photo credit: Barbara Howlett

The discovery of a unique genome organisation in the blackleg fungus, which infects and damages canola crops worldwide, will help farmers to better protect their harvest from the disease.

Read the full article here.

A colony of solutions

Photo credit: Malcolm Ricketts

The blog entries have been rather thin on the ground as of late. I've been writing manuscripts, reviews and now grant applications, and as PhD deadlines start looming, the blog will have to take a back seat for now.

In the meantime, check out this article I wrote for COSMOS magazine, which explains some of the amazing ways ants and slime moulds can solve complex problems.