My dream died, and now I'm here

Summary

The speaker shares a candid account of their journey from aspiring physicist to a disillusioned academic, ultimately finding a new path on YouTube. Initially, they were enamored with the idea of scientific discourse and intellectual freedom, but faced gender bias and the harsh realities of academia, including the prioritization of funding over genuine knowledge discovery. The narrative details the struggle of navigating a system that values quantity over quality, leading to a cycle of grant-chasing and publication for the sake of maintaining positions and funding streams. After experiencing the strain of an itinerant postdoc life and the personal sacrifices it demanded, they made a pivotal shift during the COVID pandemic, seeking funding for research they were passionate about but were denied. This led to their current role, where they can discuss and explore the intricacies of physics without the constraints of mainstream academia, finding a community that values their unique perspective on the foundations of physics.

Takeaways

• 🎓 The speaker initially aspired to be a physicist but ended up on YouTube, reflecting on their journey and the reasons behind the shift.
• 🤔 Initially, the speaker's expectations of academia were idealistic, based on biographies of scientists and a lack of firsthand experience with the academic world.
• 👩‍🏫 Coming from a non-academic family, the speaker had limited understanding of the academic and research environment, which influenced their early career choices.
• 🧑‍💼 The speaker's experience with the head of the institute highlighted gender bias and the commercial aspects of academia, which was a wake-up call.
• 💰 The academic system was revealed to be more focused on securing funding (through grants and scholarships) rather than pure knowledge discovery.
• 📈 The pressure to secure funding led to a system where researchers were incentivized to produce papers and grow their reputations, often at the expense of genuine scientific inquiry.
• 🚫 The speaker opposed programs or positions exclusive to women, believing they reinforced prejudices and did not contribute to gender equality.
• 🔬 Despite achieving academic success, the speaker felt that much of the research in the foundations of physics was not based on sound scientific principles.
• 🌐 The speaker's career involved constant relocation, which was detrimental to personal life and mental health, especially for women trying to start families.
• 🤝 After struggling with the constraints of academia, the speaker pivoted to YouTube, where they could discuss science more freely and connect with a like-minded community.
• 💌 The transition from academia to self-employment was challenging but ultimately rewarding, as it allowed the speaker to engage in an 'honest trade' of knowledge and attention.
• 🌟 The speaker acknowledges that their experience is not universal and that many people find fulfillment within the academic system, but it was not the right path for them.

Q & A

Why did the speaker initially believe that being a physicist was their dream job?

The speaker's initial belief stemmed from their expectations based on biographies of scientists, which depicted a life of intellectual pursuits, engaging discussions, and a focus on knowledge discovery.

What was the speaker's family background, and how did it influence their understanding of academia?

The speaker comes from a family of teachers, accountants, and post office workers, which did not provide an academic background. This lack of exposure to academia meant they had limited knowledge about the realities of academic life.

Why did the speaker feel that the institute of physics did not offer them a job after their master's degree?

The speaker was not offered a job because they were a woman. The head of the institute suggested applying for a scholarship exclusively for women in natural sciences, which would relieve the institute of the financial burden.

What was the speaker's stance on programs or positions exclusively for women?

The speaker was against such programs or positions, as they believe that treating women differently reinforces the prejudice that women are less capable than men.

How did the speaker's experience at the institute change their perception of academia?

The speaker's experience at the institute, including the focus on money-making and the lack of integrity in research practices, led them to realize that academia was not solely about knowledge discovery as they initially thought.

What is the 'overhead' in academic funding, and why is it a concern for the speaker?

The 'overhead' refers to the portion of a research grant that an institution receives to cover administrative costs. The speaker is concerned because it incentivizes institutions to prioritize money-making over genuine research and can lead to exploitation of researchers.

What was the speaker's realization about the nature of academic research and its impact on their career?

The speaker realized that academic research often prioritizes quantity over quality, with a focus on producing papers to secure further funding. This led them to question the value and integrity of their work and ultimately contributed to their departure from academia.

Why did the speaker decide to pivot to YouTube after their grant application was not funded?

The speaker decided to pivot to YouTube because they wanted to pursue research that was meaningful to them, even if it was not mainstream or likely to be funded through traditional academic channels. YouTube provided a platform to share their passion for science with a wider audience.

What challenges did the speaker face in transitioning from academia to self-employment?

The speaker faced challenges such as learning to write invoices, registering a business, managing a distributed team, and navigating the financial and administrative aspects of self-employment, which were very different from their academic experience.

How does the speaker feel about their current work on YouTube compared to their academic career?

The speaker feels good about their work on YouTube because it is an honest trade where they can share their knowledge directly with an interested audience, without the constraints and pressures of academic funding and publishing.

What is the speaker's perspective on the relevance of their research on indefinite causal structures?

The speaker believes that their research on indefinite causal structures is highly relevant, even though it may be considered obscure within the broader scientific community. They are encouraged by the interest shown by their YouTube audience.

Outlines

00:00

🎓 The Unexpected Journey from Physics to YouTube

The speaker reflects on their initial aspiration to become a physicist and how it diverged to creating content on YouTube. They recount their naive expectations of academia, shaped by biographies of scientists, and the stark reality they encountered. Despite coming from a non-academic family and having limited exposure to the scientific community, they found a sense of belonging among like-minded peers at university. However, the struggle for a stable job led to a series of events that soured their view of academia, including gender bias, a lack of job security, and the prioritization of financial gain over intellectual pursuits.

05:04

💼 The Dark Side of Academia: Profit Over Knowledge

The narrative delves into the systemic issues within academic institutions, where the focus shifts from knowledge discovery to financial gain. The speaker explains how 'overhead' fees from grants and scholarships benefit institutions more than the researchers, leading to pressures to secure funding rather than pursue meaningful research. They describe the exploitative nature of the academic paper production system, where the primary goal is to secure more funding rather than contribute to scientific understanding. The speaker's disillusionment grows as they recognize the lack of genuine scientific inquiry and the personal sacrifices required in the academic career, including the impact on their family life and mental health.

10:06

🚀 Pivot to YouTube: Honesty in Science Communication

After realizing the limitations and frustrations within the academic framework, the speaker pivots to sharing their passion for science on YouTube. They candidly discuss the challenges of securing grants for non-mainstream research and the COVID-19 pandemic as a wake-up call to pursue their true interests. Despite the unsuccessful attempt to secure funding for their preferred research, they find solace in connecting with a like-minded community on YouTube. The speaker contrasts the complexities and deceptions of academic research with the straightforward exchange of knowledge and attention on their platform, embracing the honesty and simplicity of this new path.

Keywords

💡Physics

Physics is a branch of science concerned with the nature and properties of matter and energy. In the video, the speaker initially pursued a career in physics, expecting it to involve intellectual debates and the pursuit of knowledge. However, they later became disillusioned with the field's focus on mainstream topics and grant-funded research, which they felt detracted from genuine scientific inquiry.

💡Academic Background

An academic background refers to one's educational history, particularly in relation to scholarly pursuits. The speaker mentions not coming from an academic family, which shaped their initial naive expectations of scientific work, as they lacked firsthand experience or knowledge of academic culture and its associated challenges.

💡Institutional Overhead

Institutional overhead refers to the indirect costs of running a research institution, which are often funded through a percentage of research grants. The speaker discusses how these overhead costs can incentivize institutions to prioritize securing grant money over the pursuit of scientific knowledge, leading to a focus on quantity over quality in research output.

💡Scholarship

A scholarship is a financial aid award given to students to support their education. In the video, the speaker was offered a scholarship for women in natural sciences, which they accepted but noted lacked benefits like health insurance. This experience highlighted gender disparities and the precarious nature of funding in academia.

💡Postdoc

A postdoc, short for postdoctoral researcher, is a person who has completed their doctoral studies and continues research, often with the aim of securing a tenured position. The speaker's postdoc experiences involved frequent relocation, which they found detrimental to personal life and mental health, and contributed to their eventual departure from traditional academia.

💡Research Grants

Research grants are funds provided to support scientific research projects. The speaker discusses the pressure to secure grants not only for personal income but also to contribute to the institution's overhead. They also express disillusionment with the grant system, viewing it as a mechanism that perpetuates a cycle of mainstream, grant-driven research rather than innovative or risk-taking scientific inquiry.

💡Gender Discrimination

Gender discrimination is the unfair treatment of individuals based on their gender. The speaker recounts being denied a job due to being a woman and being advised to apply for a women-only scholarship, which they felt reinforced stereotypes about women's capabilities in science. This experience shaped their stance against gender-exclusive programs in academia.

💡YouTube

YouTube is a video-sharing platform where users can upload, share, and view content. After leaving academia, the speaker turned to YouTube as a means to share their passion for science and engage with a community interested in discussing the foundations of physics. This platform allowed them to communicate directly with an audience without the constraints of academic publishing or funding pressures.

💡Mainstream Research

Mainstream research refers to scientific studies that align with widely accepted theories or current trends in a field. The speaker criticizes mainstream research for its focus on topics that are safe and likely to secure funding, rather than those that challenge existing paradigms or explore novel ideas. They argue that this leads to a stagnation of innovation in scientific fields.

💡Paper Production Machine

The term 'paper production machine' metaphorically describes the academic system where researchers are pressured to produce a high volume of papers to secure grants and advance their careers. The speaker uses this phrase to criticize the focus on quantity over quality and the exploitative nature of this system, where the well-being of researchers and the integrity of scientific inquiry are often sacrificed for institutional gain.

💡Indefinite Causal Structures

Indefinite causal structures pertain to theories that challenge traditional notions of cause and effect, potentially applicable in quantum mechanics or theories of time. The speaker expresses enthusiasm for this concept, which they believe is undervalued by mainstream physics. Their interest in such obscure problems led them to YouTube, where they could discuss these ideas with an audience that shares their curiosity.

Highlights

The author initially pursued physics as a dream job but ended up on YouTube, sharing their journey and experiences.

Their early expectations of academia were based on biographies of scientists, involving intellectual debates and conferences.

The author comes from a non-academic family background, with limited exposure to the world of PhDs and academia.

University life was initially fulfilling, as it provided a community of like-minded individuals interested in science and maths.

Despite good grades, the author faced gender discrimination and was not offered a job at the institute, which they were led to believe would happen.

The author was advised to apply for a women-only scholarship, highlighting the gender biases in academic opportunities.

The scholarship did not come with benefits like pension or health insurance, which are important considerations.

The author opposed programs or positions exclusive to women as they felt it reinforced the prejudice that women are less capable.

The head of the institute made money from selling textbooks, often assigning parts to students and postdocs, leading to discontinuous content.

The author was fired by the head of the institute after refusing to work on his textbook project, which was a wake-up call about the institute's focus on money.

Academia often shifts its goal from knowledge discovery to money making, with institutions benefiting from the 'overhead' on grants and scholarships.

Researchers are pressured to secure grant money, which can lead to a focus on quantity over quality in research output.

The author realized that to succeed in academia, one must work on topics that are mainstream yet edgy enough to secure funding.

The author became disillusioned with the foundations of physics, believing that much of the research was not based on sound scientific principles.

The author's attempts at rational debate within the physics community were met with disinterest, as the focus remained on publishing papers.

The constant moving expected of postdocs is detrimental to personal life and mental health, particularly for women who often face societal pressures to start families earlier.

After struggling with the demands of academia and personal life, the author made a significant life change, moving back to Germany and focusing on research that truly interested them.

The author's transition to self-employment and creating content on YouTube represented a shift towards honesty and a more straightforward exchange of knowledge for attention.

The author emphasizes that their experience is not universal and acknowledges that many people find fulfillment within the current academic system.

Despite the challenges, the author has found a community on YouTube that shares their interests and values the exploration of obscure problems in physics.

Transcripts

When I signed up for studying at the university, I thought being a physicist was my dream job.

But here I am, on YouTube.

How did that happen?

I think I owe you an explanation.

When I started studying at the university my expectations were based on biographies

of scientists.

They wrote a lot of letters to each other; they went to conferences.

They were thinkers and tinkerers and had sometimes heated but usually respectful arguments.

This is what I expected.

Yes, that was hopelessly naïve, I know I know.

But.

In my defense.

I don’t come from an academic background.

I come from a family of teachers and accountants and post office workers.

They’re normal people.

I did an internship in the chemical industry and another one at a bank, gleefully stamping

transfer slips.

I just didn’t know anyone with a PhD.

And those were the early 1990s.

You couldn’t just ask the internet and within a day you have 2000 people giving you advice,

and some marriage proposals along with that.

The first years at university were glorious.

Because for the first time in my life I was in the company of other people who were like

me.

At school I had always been the weird one for actually being interested in science and

maths.

But at the university everyone was like that.

We talked about everything from maths to philosophy, physics and politics.

And yes, alcohol was involved.

It was a really good time.

And that was all very nice, except I was getting older and still didn’t have a decent job.

I made a little money by selling oil paintings, those were the days people, but I didn’t

seriously think I was a particularly good artist.

I really had to get a normally job and stop asking my grandma to help out with paying

rent.

I thought that the institute of physics would give me a job when I’d finished my masters

degree with good grades.

Though technically at the time that was called a diploma.

I thought they’d give me a job that because that had worked for all the other students

previously.

If your grades were good, they’d offer you a job as a graduate student.

It wasn’t particularly great pay, but it was a real job.

And that’s where things started to go wrong.

Because I finished my exams with excellent grades.

I don’t mean to brag, but I think you need this context.

But I wasn’t offered a job because I’m a woman.

I’m not guessing that that’s what happened, I know, because they told me.

You see, the guy who was head of the institute told me that, since I’m female I should

apply for a scholarship that was exclusively for women in the natural sciences.

Because then the institute wouldn’t have to pay for me.

Makes sense, doesn’t it.

So, well, I applied for the scholarship and got it, alright.

But these scholarships don’t come with any benefits like pension savings and health insurance.

I know this sounds very German, but these things matter to us.

Also, I was now reminded on various occasions that I wasn’t actually employed at the institute.

I was just there because I had this scholarship for women.

And that was totally true.

This by the way is why I am against programs or positions that are exclusively for women.

I think that treating women differently just reinforces the prejudice that women are less

capable than men.

But I digress.

Alright, you might say, stop whining, at least I did have an income now.

Yes, so far so good.

At this time I was the only woman at the institute, except for the administration.

But the next problem was that the head of the institute made a lot of money with selling

textbooks.

He wrote very little of these textbooks himself.

Rather, he gave assignments for parts of the books to students and postdocs.

Which is why, in case you’ve ever wondered, these textbooks are so discontinuous and partly

repetitive.

He expected me to also work for him, to which I said “no”.

I was then ordered into his office, in which he gave me a very angry speech, according

to which I was not “loyal” to all the other students who did their part.

I told him that I was under no obligation to work for him and didn’t care what the

rest of the students were thinking.

He got angry, I laughed at him, he started shouting that I was fired and physically shoved

me out of his office.

True story.

The irony is that he couldn’t fire me because, if you remember, he had refused to hire me

in the first place.

I was paid by that scholarship for women and that wasn’t managed by the institute but

by the office of the university president.

I’m not just telling you this because it’s entertaining, it was also a rather rude awakening.

It made me realize that this institute wasn’t about knowledge discovery.

It was about money making.

And the more I saw of academia, the more I realized it wasn’t just this particular

institute and this particular professor.

It was generally the case.

The moment you put people into big institutions the goal shifts from knowledge discovery to

money making.

Here’s how this works.

If a researcher gets a scholarship or research grant, then the institution gets part of that

money.

It’s called the “overhead”.

Technically that’s meant to pay for offices and equipment and admin etc.

But academic institutions then part of their staff from this overhead, so they need to

keep that overhead coming.

Small scholarships don’t make much money, but research grants can be tens of millions

of dollars.

And the overhead can be anything between 15 and 50 percent.

This is why research institutions exert loads of pressure on researchers to bring in grant

money.

And partly they do this by keeping the researchers on temporary contracts so that they need grants

to get paid themselves.

While the administrators who are paid on the overhead usually have permanent positions.

But you get used to this kind of crap.

And the overhead isn’t even the real problem.

The real problem is that the easiest way to grow in academia is to pay other people to

produce papers on which you, as the grant holder, can put your name.

That’s how academia works.

Grants pay students and postdocs to produce research papers for the grand holder.

And those papers are what the supervisor then uses to apply for more grants.

The result is a paper production machine, in which students and postdocs are burnt through

to bring in money for the institution.

Most of that money comes from your taxes.

After my PhD, I applied for another scholarship and got that and then I got a postdoc job

and a grant and another job and another job and another grant, and so on.

And I began to understand what you need to do to get a grant or get hired.

You have to work on topics that are mainstream enough but not too mainstream.

You want them to be a little bit edgy.

But not too edgy, noo.

it needs to be something that fits into the existing machinery.

And since most grants are 3 years or 5 years at most, it also needs to be something that

can be wrapped up quickly.

The more I saw of this, the more I realized this wasn’t how I wanted to spend my life.

The other thing that happened was that the more I saw of the foundations of physics,

the more I became convinced that most of the research there wasn’t based on sound scientific

principles.

I know this sounds wild, like I’m the crank next door on YouTube.

And maybe that’s what I am.

But I like to think that my argument was and still is very academic.

I never intended it to be offensive.

I just explained why thinking up new particles isn’t a good strategy for progress in physics,

and why that had gotten an entire disciple stuck.

And naïve as I was, I expected physicists to think about it.

I expected rational debate.

But that never came.

No one was interested.

No one is interested.

They were interested in writing more papers.

And that’s what they need all these particles and other wild ideas for.

To write papers.

To get grants.

To get postdocs.

To write more papers.

And round and round it goes.

Meanwhile, I had moved half around the world because that’s standard for postdocs.

It’s just expected of you.

And at some point you just accept the constant moving as normal because the only people you

know also do it.

It’s incredibly hostile to personal life, detrimental to mental health, and women suffer

from it because our reproductive reality is that we need to start families earlier than

men.

By my mid-thirties, I had somehow miraculously managed to get married and have two children.

But I couldn’t find a job anywhere near my husband.

So for several years I commuted from Frankfurt to Stockholm.

And yes, those cities are actually in different countries.

After 5 years of my murder commute, I just couldn’t do it anymore.

I constantly felt guilty for not working more and not spending more time with my kids.

My mental health was worse than ever, I was permanently stressed out, I had several nervous

breakdowns, I was constantly ill.

I decided I’d go back to Germany and not move out of country again, until the kids

were out of school.

Instead, I applied for research grants on projects that lasted one two or three years

and that could be located in Germany.

A lot of water has flown under the bridge since, so let me be honest.

At this point I’d figured out what you need to put into a grant proposal to get the money.

And that’s what I did.

I applied for grants on research projects because it was a way to make money, not because

I thought it would leave an impact in the history of science.

It’s not that was I did was somehow wrong.

It was, and still is, totally state of the art.

I did what I said I’d do in the proposal, I did the calculation, I wrote the paper,

I wrote my reports, and the reports were approved.

Normal academic procedure.

But I knew it was bullshit just as most of the work in that area is currently bullshit

and just as most of academic research that your taxes pay for is almost certainly bullshit.

The real problem I had, I think, is that I was bad at lying to myself.

Of course, I’d try to tell myself and anyone who was willing to listen that at least unofficially

on the side I would do the research that I thought was worth my time but that I couldn’t

get money for because it was too far off the mainstream.

But that research never got done because I had to do the other stuff that I actually

got paid for.

Then COVID came and it reminded me how short life really is.

I pivoted, applied for funding on the research that I wanted to do, that I was rather afraid

wouldn’t get funded.

It didn’t get funded.

And so here we are, on YouTube.

Where I talk about why I love science and hate it at the same time.

This sounds like a sad story and in some sense it is.

Because it’s the story of a young scientist whose dream died.

And it’s the story of an old scientist who thinks they could have made a difference,

if it hadn’t been necessary to get past 5 reviewers who didn’t share my interests

because that’s what it comes down to eventually.

It’s not that they say there’s something wrong with your proposal.

It just doesn’t excite them because it’s not the main current interest.

My problem has always been that I just didn’t fit in.

But there’s a happy ending in that I’ve found you.

A community of people who share my interests.

Well, more or less, or why the heck have you not been watching my video on indefinite causal

structures.

It’s been quite a change to switch from academia to being self-employed.

I had to learn how to write invoices.

I had to register a business.

I have a tax consultant, two agents, and a twelve-person team that’s distributed over

half the world.

Very steep learning curve.

Mistakes were made.

But eventually, today, I feel good about it because unlike academic research, this is

an honest trade.

You get some of my knowledge.

I get some of your attention.

I like the simplicity of that.

And I am also heartened that there are so many people who care about obscure problems

in the foundations of physics.

Though I think you underestimate the relevance of indefinite causal structures.

So, that’s my story, no more and no less.

Please do not think that my experience with academia is universal or that I have claimed

it is.

I know many people who love academia the way it is and who think it’s working just fine.

I’m just not one of them.

Have never been, and I don’t think I’ll ever be.

I’m not sure if I’m going to post this video.

It’s a bit too much isn’t it.