Wonderful, intense article

I wanted to share this NYT article, titled "Lethal Chemistry at Harvard". It is not a fun story, but given the mindset I was in when first reading it years ago, it helped changed my life. In my mind, it is one of the most important  pieces written about the modern life young scientists. The story unfolds with the suicide of a graduate student named Jason Altom, but it evolves into an accurate portrayal of the sometime cutthroat world of graduate student life. In particular the focus is on those attempting to complete their PhD. Unlike MBA or law students, those working in the hard sciences do not merely try to out-compete each other, rather they are sometime fighting nature itself. Some students will spend their lives searching for the next 'ultimate' discovery, maybe no more fruitfully than alchemists once searched for the philosopher's stone. Jason ended his life studying synthetic chemistry at Harvard while under the supervision of the famous (and infamous) E.J. Corey. His goal was the total synthesis of haplophytine. The synthesis was never completed. Feeling he had failed in his mission, he made the calculated, absurd and irreversible decision revealed in the article's opening paragraph:

In death as in life, Jason Altom managed to be both extremely methodical and extraordinarily good-hearted. On the warm, humid day in mid-August when he ended his life, he walked up to the third-floor bedroom of the Somerville, Mass., house he shared with two fellow graduate students at Harvard University, drank a liquid laced with cyanide procured from the very chemistry laboratory where he was considered an unusually gifted student and lay down on his bed. Having accounted for the remote possibility that his own death might endanger others, the 26-year-old doctoral candidate left a warning note on the bed. ''Do Not Resuscitate,'' it read. ''Danger: Potassium Cyanide.'' As one of his roommates explained to me later, ''I think he was worried, in his meticulous way, that someone might try to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.''

Many in grad students at some point in their studies find themselves in a mentally bad state; they feel trapped, unsuccessful, or watch helplessly as opportunities slip them by. This article shares with us the troubles of an otherwise intelligent, successful individual. What happened?

 

First, there is an inevitable chasm that exists between the successful undergraduates and the next phase they may encounter (should they choose this route). The shock can be as abrupt as a bath of ice-cold water:

Graduate study in the sciences...is a very unsentimental education. It requires the intellectual evolution from undergrad who can ace tests of textbook knowledge to original thinker who can initiate and execute research about which the textbooks have yet to be written. What is less often acknowledged is that this intense education involves an equally arduous psychological transition, almost a second rebellious adolescence. The passage from callow, eager-to-please first-year student in awe of an often-famous faculty adviser to confident, independent-minded researcher willing to challenge, and sometimes defy, a mentor is a requisite part of the journey.

 The most stark realization comes next. The intelligent -now radical- graduate soon discovers this rebelliousness must somehow be fought blindly against unseen forces; they must develop a habit of punching fistfuls of air in the dark.

In scientific research, whether chemistry or molecular biology or physics, the graduate student's journey from ignorance to expertise is like a trip without a compass. ''In my experience, it's completely self-motivated, and there are no landmarks in the landscape,'' said Curtis Keith one day over a soda in the Greenhouse, a student cafeteria in the Science Center across the street from Harvard's chemistry labs. ''There are no rewards along the way, no stages when you get evaluated. It feels like there's a long period where you don't have any landmark to see where you are.''

In Jason's case, the initial path was surprisingly clear.  The retrosynthetic project he was assigned was highly complex, but given the starting point of a world containing of hundreds of millions of molecules, he had focused himself on one. The difficulty that lay ahead for hime was akin to proving a yet-unsolved mathematical proof in isolation. This can sometimes work, as in the case of Andrew Wiles. More often such challenges are dangerous to those unfortified without a deep, relative understanding of oneself.

Despite the forewarning, his synthesis began with some success. He made one half of the molecule then later, separately, the second half. Self-motivated to a fault, he wanted to continue until the whole synthesis was complete. The rest of the story outlines Jason's many unsuccessful attempts at combining the halves including into his final months of life. The apparent lack of outward warning signs puzzled his friends and coworkers alike. Everyone was grasping for an answer.

The final tally would indicate his case was an isolated one. Suicides have always been rare, though teens and late seniors have higher-than-average rates. There is a lack of evidence graduate students are any more depressed than the population as a whole. The article leads you to understand central causal explanations to such events will forever remain enigmatic.

Is the fact his failure was in grad school significant? It's hard to say. He may have been unhappy under different circumstances too, if, say, a group project went bust. But I doubt working in prolonged isolation is ever a healthy option. Prisoners often describe prolonged isolation in the most horrifying, starkest of ways. Even when surrounded by friends, the more isolated your problems become, the harder it is to talk about them. I think I understand that much.

To me, luckily, doubts over grad school were confined to whether or not I'd quit grad school. But if life becomes school and vice versa, then options will feel quite a bit more limited. The most important life lesson I have ever learned while doing my PhD is to know when to cash in your chips and walk away. Don't chase losses. Don't constantly say "this isn't good enough". Let someone else say that for a change, then be a fair judge whether they are right. Perfection is meaningless. The real goal is to keep working while still some aspect is fun. If such apparent luxury is refused, then all your choices have come down to something you enjoy doing no more than anything else chosen arbitrarily. When stuck, either work on something else or stop all-together. If a work environment frowns on either option, this would be a good opportunity to walk away.

What I'm implying here is that these are the sort of choices I have made more recently. I no longer feel bad for not working harder. I work as hard as makes me happy. This means hard work sometimes, but not always. Either I work to satisfy myself or my aims.