I went on a rant...

What you're about to read is a rant - that ironically I wrote in the wee hours of the morning - inspired by the works of an unrelenting Twitter troll. That's how it started anyway, but more broadly it's a rant about the system that enables him and others like him. It is a largely unedited stream of consciousness, a ranting monologue if you like. It is only my opinion, which I am allowed to have, just as the troll in question is allowed to have. Feel free to ignore it entirely, as is your right to do.

If you have chosen not to ignore it, enjoy... 

Middle-aged white man wakes before dawn and spends hours (probably) composing long threads on Twitter ranting about students/postdocs etc complaining on Twitter. He assumes that these folks are entitled and just aren't passionate enough about their research (ah yes, the P word - more on that later). He assumes they just aren't trying hard enough to publish papers to bolster their CV for their future job. He assumes that it's just that simple, and that the odds aren't heavily stacked against them. He assumes that what they post online is representative of everything in their life (yes, I see the hypocrisy here, but this man is incessant).

Let's talk about just how little work a graduate student or a postdoc has done in their life, shall we? To get into a graduate program, they must first obtain a Bachelor's degree and quite possibly also a Masters. That takes hard work. Not only that, to be a competitive applicant, they must show evidence of extracurricular activities. In particular, they should ideally have prior research experience during their undergraduate, possibly even have a publication under their belt. That takes hard work. They compete against thousands of applicants across the world to become one of a select few to enter the graduate program. Once in the program, they must take classes, they must teach, and they must begin their research projects. They must take exams, grade undergraduate exams, give group meeting presentations, all the while still doing active research. That's a lot of hard work. If they are lucky, they have a hands-on advisor and/or mentor who guides them through the early stages. They must pass a candidacy exam - write a report, give a presentation - to prove they know what they're doing and that they have in fact been doing it. They must publish papers to prove to the scientific world that they know what they're doing. That's a lot of hard work. All the while, these students with a minimum of a bachelor's degree are earning significantly less than most of their undergraduate friends who chose not to pursue a PhD. I could go on, but if you're reading this you're probably familiar with the ins and outs of academia. 

The previous paragraph describes a rather idealized situation, I'm sure you would agree. A situation that probably only applies to a fairly privileged white man with a comfortable background and little to no additional responsibilities, and a research environment that is supportive and welcoming. We all know the real world is not quite so perfect. A toxic tyrant of a PI can ruin even a privileged white student's career, as well as their and mental and even physical health. A system that favours established old white male professors can make it very difficult for a young, aspiring academic to flourish. Add in discrimination due to race, gender, sexuality etc, and the entry barrier to academia is starting to get higher and higher for minoritized folks. For those who do pass that barrier, they still face constant oppression within academia every single day. They have to work even harder to stay in the system that has historically tried very hard to keep them out.

I could probably rant for days, but the point I'm trying to make at the end of all of this is that no one person's path is the same. Yet some middle-aged white man thinks that so long as everyone does exactly what he did exactly how he did it, everything will work out fine no matter your personal circumstances. Don't you dare tell folks you know absolutely nothing about that they aren't working hard enough just because they complain about a totally flawed system on a public forum. These people have worked hard their entire lives, in spite of every obstacle in their way, to get where they are today. They, like anyone else, deserve a little complaint now and then – that is life. 

If you find yourself pre-emptively defending what you're tweeting, you are well aware that you probably shouldn't be saying it. It's like when someone pre-emptively says "no offence intended but..." before offending someone. Stop it.

Instead of telling people to suck it up and just work harder, take a step back and really think about just how fucked up academia really is. The few people who truly benefit from it are the ones keeping it that way, making money off the back of criminally underpaid graduate students and postdocs, only to hang them out to dry because they didn't measure up to some whitewashed definition of success. It's no wonder so many people lose their passion (there it is again, that pesky P word) for research and leave for greener pastures.

So the P word...passion. Many people defend the low pay of graduate students and postdocs by saying the money shouldn't matter, it's all about the passion, the thrill of research. When I say low, I mean low versus what their equally or perhaps less qualified peers in the professional world are paid. Can't someone have a passion for research i.e. enjoy what they do very much, but also have other passions? Passions such as having a roof over their head that they don't have to share with several other grown adults because they need to split rent. Passions such as being able to have dinner and drinks with friends occasionally while still being able to fill their refrigerator for the month. Passions such as having a savings account that they can pay into after all of that. People can do a PhD not because they are passionate, but simply that they're interested. Or perhaps after undergraduate they felt stuck and didn't know what to do with their life and stumbled into a PhD program...

Again, I could go on but I hope you're getting the point. People with degrees, whether it's Bachelors, Masters, PhD or all of the above, are highly qualified individuals. Other sectors pay them handsomely for this reason. Why won't academia do the same? Why doesn't academia appreciate the very people it trained? 

Okay, I've gone on long enough, I just had to get some of this off my chest. I don't have a good answer for any of this, but I sure as hell know passion has very little, if not nothing, to do with it. I do however know that privileged white men in the proverbial ivory tower, who complain that we complain about this, are very much a part of the problem. 

"You Must Be Very Intelligent"

I recently read a very interesting book called "You Must Be Very Intelligent: The PhD Delusion" written by former Edinburgh chemistry PhD student Karin Bodewitz (@KarinBodewitz). As someone also going through my PhD in chemistry, I could identify with a lot of her personal struggles in academia (although thankfully my supervisor isn't prone to frequent bursts of anger!)

The academic pandemic of imposter syndrome is frequently mentioned throughout the story, and I'm sure everyone can/will identify with this struggle at some point in their career. However, I want to talk about the idea behind the title of the book - the idea that everyone with a PhD must be very intelligent.

Many people, when they find out I'm doing a PhD, say "oh you must be very intelligent!" and when they hear it's in chemistry they reiterate that sentiment. Either that or "oh, so you're like that guy from Breaking Bad - are you making drugs?" 

No, I am not making drugs!

Additionally, my girlfriend often says, "I can't believe you're doing PhD, you're so smart!" and is mind-blown by the stuff she sees me reading in bed sometimes. She often says she feels inferior, like she's dumb, because she's not at PhD level. Now, she is a teacher, a teacher of maths and science. Without people like her, people like me would never even make it to university, never mind PhD. In fact, it's my own high school chemistry teacher who is responsible for convincing me to study chemistry at university in the first place, leading me to where I am today. So, every time my girlfriend claims she is "dumb", I try to reassure her that she most definitely is not - she's just not as good as me in one very specific area of chemistry!

I read many stories on Twitter, and I have seen plenty of examples in my own workplace, of people who are doing PhDs or already have PhDs, doing things that, quite frankly, are stupid - as if they have no common sense. The more I read the stories, and the more I see with my own eyes, I realise that doing/having a PhD, and possibly having many high impact publications, does not necessarily make someone a super-intellectual being - it simply means they are good at what they do for a living (chemistry). Outside of their day-to-day work – robotically setting up reaction after reaction, and doing column after column - they appear to have very little common sense, even in some of the most basic of tasks.

So, to sum up for all those non-PhDs, and specifically those non-chemistry non-PhDs, just because someone is doing a PhD in chemistry, that does not mean they are VERY intelligent, it just makes them a good chemist (and even THAT is not always true!)

Image taken from: https://turtleboysports.com/best-show-of-all-time-true-detective-house-of-cards-the-wire-sopranos-or-breaking-bad/

P.S. You should totally read Karin's book - it's unputdownable! 

https://www.amazon.com/You-Must-Be-Very-Intelligent/dp/331959320X

Learning from a Laureate

I recently had the privilege of being invited to have lunch with a Nobel Laureate. Professor Sir J. Fraser Stoddart was in Singapore to take part in the Global Young Scientists Summit (GYSS), undoubtedly offering incredible advice and inspiration to many young people in, or hoping to be in, science.

I first saw Sir Fraser give a talk at Nanyang Technological University (NTU), Singapore, in June of 2017 when he was touring the world in the aftermath of the Nobel. I wanted to go not only to see a Nobel Prize winner, but to see a fellow Scotsman and Edinburgh University alumnus in Singapore! My labmates and I made our way to NTU - located in “the wilderness” of Singapore, so inconveniently out-of-the-way for anyone who does not live in the immediate vicinity - in a cab to avoid the heat and humidity of the mid-June afternoon. Despite it not being at all related to our field of work, we all found the talk incredibly fascinating, not just from a chemistry point-of-view but also the life lessons included in the story, and I’m sure everyone in the packed lecture theatre felt the same way.

I enjoyed the talk so much that I made sure to go and see him present again at the ACS Fall meeting in Washington, D.C., which I was fortunate enough to attend as part of my participation in the SciFinder Future Leaders program. This talk was part of a session dedicated to Stoddart’s fellow Laureate, Ben Feringa, who was the recipient of yet another prize. Unfortunately, however, after Stoddart’s opening talk the room emptied as everyone headed outside to catch the climax of the solar eclipse. Poor Ben!

It was in the aftermath of this session that I got the notification that @sirfrasersays had followed me on Twitter. I was over the moon! Ever since his Nobel Prize win, Stoddart has become engrossed in the use of Twitter, and has even been labelled as a “Twitter Monster”, such is his extensive interaction with the social media platform. I had tweeted something in relation to his presentation, and I suppose that brought his attention to a fellow countryman both attending his talk and active on Twitter. I felt I had somehow made it on Twitter at this point – where’s my blue check already?!

In the time since attending the ACS meeting, I continued to tweet in my usual manner – some chemistry stuff, some life stuff, lots of complaining, you know, what Twitter is generally used for – and I was regularly surprised to receive the notification that Sir Fraser was liking and retweeting the occasional tweet. I thought, “how could it be that a Nobel Prize winner somehow finds my random ramblings relatable?” But then I remember that, despite his many achievements and newfound celebrity status, Sir Fraser is also just another human being – a father, a grandfather, a Fraser – who, in his own words, is simply practising his hobby every day. He is another in a long list of scientists who has discovered the fantastic world of social media and realised it’s capability as platform for science communication. It was most likely due to Twitter that he knew I was doing my PhD at the National University of Singapore, and so when he was due to give a talk there, he asked a former postdoc of his – now a professor in NUS – to extend an invitation to lunch with him and some other professors.

I was sitting, almost dozing off, in front of the NMR computer when I received the email invitation. I had to do a bit of a double take when I read it – I mean, was a Nobel Laureate really asking me to lunch with the Dean and Vice Dean of the faculty of science and the head of the chemistry department tomorrow?! I was totally fanboy-ing and couldn’t wait to tell my friends that I’d be meeting a celebrity.

The following day, I dressed up smart and headed to university for 8.30am to get to the venue of Sir Fraser’s talk. I don’t usually dress smartly, and so many people were asking me if I had a presentation to give that day – little did they know I was to be dining with a Nobel Prize winner!

Sir Fraser gave a fantastic talk, titled “My Journey to Stockholm”, filled with both amazing science and fascinating anecdotes from his fantastic 50 years in chemistry and academia. A few of the stories that really resonated with me were those in which he described his fights against adversity and heavy criticism, particularly in his early years.

Following the advice from his mentor from his time as a PhD student at Edinburgh University, he chose to “tackle a big problem” when he became an independent academic. As we all well know now, he is one of the pioneers of the mechanical bond, and what later became known as ‘Molecular Machines’. However, he told of some backlash that he received from his peers in his early days at Sheffield University in the 1970s – how he was told that his ideas were pointless and crazy. Nevertheless, he persisted – for almost a decade – and eventually managed to publish some interesting work in this unknown field. During this time, he was also the first person in the department to hire some foreign graduate students in his lab. In his talk he described how the local students were much too laid back and unproductive, and that the arrival of some hard-working Europeans really kicked them into gear. Funny that. To quote the popular American musical, Hamilton: “Immigrants, we get the job done!” Another example of the ridicule that Stoddart received at Sheffield, he told of one of his local students refusing to do a certain project, saying something to the effect of “I’m not doing that, Stoddart, that’s kiddy science”. One of the Europeans took on the project, and later published an awesome crystal structure on the front cover of the internationally reputed journal Angewandte Chemie. Funny that.

Quote from "Hamilton: The Musical".
(Image from https://rebelliouslawyeringinstitute.org/immigrants-we-get-the-job-done/) 

Fast forward some years and he has moved across the pond to the USA, after a stint in industry at ICI and then some years at Birmingham University – where he says life was significantly better compared to his torrid time at Sheffield. He first got a position at UCLA, and a few years later he moved to where he is now, Northwestern University in Illinois. Throughout these years, his pioneering work continued, and you only need to look at his Wikipedia page to see how many awards he has received. Of course, the finest reward came in 2016 when he, along with fellow pioneers and collaborators Ben Feringa and Jean-Pierre Sauvage, was awarded to the Nobel Prize in Chemistry for “The Design and Synthesis of Molecular Machines”. So, despite all the ridicule and adversity he received in his early years as a researcher, he beat the odds and won the most coveted prize in all of chemistry – take that, haters!

Following the Nobel win, as is probably to be expected, Sir Fraser was invited by every university you can think of to come and give a talk. At the tender age of 74, you’d think that he’d be selective in where he travelled, keeping the air miles to a minimum and ensuring plenty of rest. But no, according to his own Twitter post, in 2017 he flew around the world 13 times, travelling approximately 330,000 air miles and giving 70 talks / lectures in 15 different countries, including his visit to NTU in June. Incredible! Then, in January, he returned to Singapore for GYSS – and to have lunch with me!

Following his talk, all attendees gathered outside of the auditorium to have some refreshments and have their photo opportunity with Sir Fraser. I bided my time, allowing others their chance to meet and chat with him, knowing full well I’d be getting my chance. I was then ushered along to join the professors to head to the minivan that would be taking us to the lunch venue – the University Club. The first questions Sir Fraser asked me were related to Scotland – where was I from exactly, do I own a kilt with the Fraser tartan (unfortunately I do not, kilts are bloody expensive!) and do I know where the Fraser clan’s roots are. Oh so Scottish, och aye the noo! He later asked what brought me all the way to Singapore and what was student life like here. He seemed very interested in my life story!

A stereotypical Scotsman, and member of the Fraser clan (see: Outlander)
(Image from https://www.pinterest.com/pin/327214729154555232/?lp=true)

Later, at the lunch table, the Head of Chemistry, Prof. Richard Wong, opened the discussion by asking Sir Fraser about his views on so-called “blue skies research” vs. application-based research, the latter being the more common output in Singapore. It was reassuring to hear a Nobel Prize winner – whose molecular machines were starting to find some brilliant application in drug discovery, creating start-ups in cosmetics, to name just a few – advocating strongly for blue skies research. He cited another Scotsman, Alexander Fleming, and his ‘accidental discovery’ of penicillin, the first true antibiotic, which revolutionised modern medicine. Another good example would be Barnett Rosenberg’s ‘accidental discovery’ of cisplatin, the revolutionary cancer drug, which was discovered through an experiment completely unrelated to cancer research. Were it not for these “accidents”, science and medicine may not have advanced to where they are today. Curiosity-driven scientists, seeking answers to the obscure and their unusual observations, are to thank for the state of modern science. Professor Stoddart is another of these curiosity-driven chemists – tackling a big problem in an unexplored field and revolutionising the mechanical bond.

After a lengthy discussion amongst the professors about this, Sir Fraser turned to me and asked, “from your point of view as a student here in Singapore, what are your views on the science culture?” I decided that here, at this table with the Dean and Vice Dean of Science and the Head of Chemistry, that I was going to make my opinion heard. I opened with the line “in my opinion, from where I stand in all of this, the approach is all wrong”. I got the feeling that the NUS professors were a little taken aback by my forwardness in that moment, to which Sir Fraser later made the comment that it is a very Scottish trait to “turn your back on authority and stand your ground – fight the system”. I was glad that at least he had my back in what was to be a bit of a rambling rant by me, giving my honest opinion on the science (well, chemistry) in Singapore. To sum it up, I advocated strongly against the idea that being a successful PhD student, or post-doc or professor for that matter, all boils down to how many publications you have, and how high the impact factors are of the journals you publish in. I gave a few examples of conversations I’d had with people in the department, and made the point of how so many of my peers care only about getting that high impact publication, no matter what it takes. I referred back to the point about blue skies research, and how it can take years of work before anything makes it to publication level – yet that is discouraged in favour of pushing out papers left, right and centre. I also mentioned that, from my own observations, and in my opinion, a student or post-doc with a larger number of publications, high impact or not, is not necessarily a better scientist than one with little or no publications within the same timeframe. But unfortunately, in the hiring process, it is a numbers game and often he/she with the most publications gets the job. However, I was comforted by the fact that, as Sir Fraser mentioned in his talk and then reiterated to me after my rant, Nobel Laureate Jean-Pierre Sauvage’s seminal publication, that ultimately led to his Nobel Prize, was published in what is considered a “lower tier” journal…in French. So, to paraphrase Sir Fraser, “it doesn’t matter where you publish it, if it’s ground-breaking then it will eventually be noticed”. Coming from a Nobel Laureate, those words clearly have meaning, and I will continue to believe them throughout my career.

Another thing that struck a chord with me was Sir Fraser’s attitude towards teaching. As mentioned earlier, in the aftermath of the Nobel Prize win he was to start travelling a lot and so he had to consider how this would affect his ability to perform his teaching duties at Northwestern. But rather than palming the duties off to another lecturer, Sir Fraser told us of how he managed get the curriculum rearranged slightly such that he could fit his lectures into a more condensed period. That way he could schedule his outrageous travel schedule around his teaching. I must say that I really admire this dedication to teaching, putting the needs of the students first. He also mentioned this in his talk, how he put his students and postdocs first, and would often go to his lab and say “what can I do for you today? How can I help?” Now that’s what I call a great boss!

On the subject of Sir Fraser’s students and postdocs, the last thing I want to mention is his dedication to diversity in science. He frequently referred to it in his talk, and then at the end he gave a summary about how he strongly believes that “science is global”. In a career spanning 50 years, he has led his research in both the U.S. and the U.K., with strong collaboration in China, and has mentored 413 PhDs and postdocs from 43 different countries. I also noted earlier how he had been one of the first in his department to hire foreign students in his lab. Not to forget, he shared the Nobel Prize with Ben Feringa and Jean-Pierre Sauvage, from the Netherlands and France, respectively. The Nobel Prize in Chemistry has been awarded 109 times to a total of 177 recipients, which further reinforces Sir Fraser’s argument. There were some rather obvious references to current political shenanigans, particularly in the US and the UK, two of the world’s scientific strongholds who seem determined to close their scientific borders, putting collaboration and access to international opportunities at serious risk. Can’t they just listen to Sir Fraser’s Nobel Lecture and realise how naïve they’re being?! Alas, as Sir Fraser said at lunch, these countries are being led by some of the most incompetent politicians we’ve seen in years.

Well, I think I’ve dragged on long enough, and this post has taken so long to write that I’m starting to forget most of whatever else was said at lunch. So, I’ll end on a positive note to just express my sincere gratitude to Sir Fraser Stoddart for his gracious invitation to lunch, and for being so keen to take pictures afterwards! Thank you, Sir!

Me with Sir Fraser Stoddart at NUS on January 23rd 2018.

Livingston to Singapore - My Chemistry Story

Early Life

Born in Livingston, a small yet rapidly expanding town just outside of Edinburgh, I had little to no exposure to chemistry growing up. My only encounters were the amazing technologies on display in the various crime investigation shows my mum would watch on TV. I became more and more enchanted by the idea of using such cool science to solve mysteries, and I quickly decided that I was going to be a cool dude forensic scientist when I grew up.

High School

Fast forward a few years and I was now very much more interested in playing football than anything else. Yet somehow I still had my dream career in the back of my mind. As much as I enjoyed school and I worked hard in classes, I look back and I realise that I didn't take it very seriously at all. I only did the mandatory homework that was to be handed in and graded, and come exam time I used the "study leave" period to keep practising my football skills!

I was fortunate enough to get through those exams keep proceeding through school, and then came my 6th and final year. This was the time when all my classmates were talking about which universities they were going to apply to, and the application period was approaching. I had never really thought about life after school, I had been too busy playing football and messing around with my mates. One day, the whole year group was sat in one of the computer labs and told to log in to the university application portal and make our profiles. This was step 1 towards us applying to our dream universities.

It was only then that I realised I had some thinking to do and a decision to make. Our teachers started talking to us about it, curious to find out our various plans for post-school life. My chemistry teacher, a woman who has turned out to be a huge influence how I got to where I am, asked me about my plans. I told her that I actually hadn't thought much about it until very recently, and that I was probably going to apply to a university in Edinburgh, Heriot Watt, which offered a Forensic Science course. I also stated that I had no intention of attending any university that I could not travel to and from daily by public transport - I was stubborn and didn't really want to leave home. She then gave me advice that I will forever be thankful for; she told me to apply to do a chemistry degree instead, it'll train me in many more areas than just those relevant to forensic science, and will give me many widely applicable skills that I will need in future. Should I get to the end of this chemistry degree and still wish to be a forensic scientist, I would be in a much stronger position to apply for such opportunities. However, should I decide that I did not want to be the next Gil Grissom or Horatio Caine, my options would still be wide open thanks to the skills and qualifications I'd obtain during my chemistry degree. Oh boy, she was so right! 

Having done her undergraduate and postgraduate degrees at Edinburgh university, she strongly recommended that I apply there as it's not exactly far from Livingston. She also still had contacts there, and used this to her advantage to send me there for 2 consecutive days to use some instrumentation I needed for my chemistry research project. I got to see the Edinburgh chemistry department, it was all very surreal and new but oh so fascinating.

So it was settled. My, perhaps a little naive, mind was now fully convinced that I'd be going to Edinburgh University to study chemistry. I applied to there, as well as 4 others since we had to have back-up plans. I applied to the next-nearest 4 universities, not paying too much attention to what I was doing as I knew for sure now - I was going to Edinburgh!

Despite all of this, I still carried on with my daily football routine and generally not caring about school outside of school hours. I received conditional offers from every university I applied to (seeing as my grades were not exactly great since I never really studied). Edinburgh had the toughest conditions though. Did this spur me into studying some more to make sure I got in? Of course not! Football was everything, and so "study leave" for my final FINAL exams came, and our games got longer and my skills got (slightly) better.

So, in May of 2009, exams came and went. I felt okay about my performance but wouldn't find out until August, with university starting in September, should I get in to any of them. Meanwhile, I now had a summer school to attend...

During our final year, a few of us from, let's just say "not very well-off" families, had been invited to apply to the LEAPS (Lothian Equal Access Programme for Schools) summer school. It would be held during June and July of 2009 at the University of Edinburgh. I had applied on a whim, pretty much because my head teacher made me feel like I had to. One of my classmates had also applied, and coincidentally also intended to study at Edinburgh university, albeit in Law. We both got accepted and so for 8 weeks we shared bus rides to and from Edinburgh and became much closer as friends. He would later become my flatmate for 2 years, and is still one of my best friends.
The summer school was a very rewarding experience. We had attended classes designed to improve our soft skills, those relevant to everyone no matter which degree or university you'd applied to, such as presenting, writing and referencing. We were also split into groups to attend some classes on subjects based on what we had applied to do at university, and so I was landed with maths and, you've guessed it, chemistry. During this time I got to see what I would really be like to be a university student, and even more specifically, a student in chemistry at Edinburgh! We got lectures from several members of staff, as well as short lab sessions with PhD students as demonstrators. It was awesome, so much so that I was now hoping so hard that my exam results would grant me entry to study here. I also wished I'd tried harder, knowing that more studying would've meant a better chance of achieving such a feat. However, I knew that no matter my exam results and which institution I would end up at, or not, I had had a great time during the summer school, making new friends and learning more new useful skills.

August rolled around and it was time for the exam results. Summer school was over, and with no school I was back to playing football every day. On the day the results were expected in the post, I was out with my mates. None of us seemed too fussed. But then, I got a phonecall from my mum.

"The letter just came. Get back here and open it now!"

So that was that. I trudged home and opened it up. My mum - despite never being pushy about my studying and my results, always just very supportive telling me that my future was what I made of it - was more nervous than me as I read the grades.

"I got into Edinburgh" I said very nonchalantly.

My mum was over the moon! Exclaiming how proud she was of me, and calling my aunts and grandparents. She made me call my dad before I could go out and play football again.

This was, and still is, very characteristic of me. I'd just found out I'd been accepted into a very prestigious university, and had become the first in my entire family to go to university, but I was relaxed, calm, and fully intent on getting back out to play football. Perhaps it will sink in on my first day, I thought.

University

University was an amazing experience. I met so many new friends, had a lot of fun, learned a shedload of chemistry, and drank obscene amounts of alcohol. Over the years I discovered that, out of the three main branches of chemistry, my interest lay in inorganic, and more specifically organometallics and main group chemistry. It was this interest that influenced my choice of project for my final year dissertation. I joined Prof. Polly Arnold's (@ProfArno) group to work on a main group based project centred around the relatively new area of chemistry - Frustrated Lewis Pairs. I became rather fascinated by this field, and long gone were the days of dreaming about being a suave detective in a suit and sunglasses catching the bad guys thanks to an unrealistically intelligent GC-MS.

My mentor throughout my project was the brilliant Nicola Bell (@NickelCarbon) (now McFarlane - congrats!) Her intelligence and enthusiasm for chemistry, and her particular love of NMR, really rubbed off on me and kept me motivated throughout my first endeavour as a semi-independent researcher. I learned a lot from Nicola, not just about lab work, but also when preparing presentations and reports, and I will always be very grateful for her help.

Another member of Prof. Arnold's group was an Australian postdoc called Rowan Young. We chatted a bit, but not much, in the lab as we were working on completely unrelated projects. It wasn't until the inorganic department's big Christmas dinner that we really had a long chat. Well, actually, we didn't see each other that night until much later - in the nearby bar after a few too many drinks. Rowan inquired about my plans post-degree, seeing as I was nearing the end. I explained that I'd been applying to various chemistry-related jobs and companies, such as Shell, Syngenta, Diageo etc, but with no luck thus far. He asked if I'd been considering doing a PhD, to which the answer was yes, I had. I'd been asking around some groups to see if they had positions available, but nothing too far afield. Stubborn old me was determined to stay in Scotland, or at least the UK. He told me he'd recently been given an assistant professor position at the National University of Singapore (NUS), and would be moving there in a few months. He then asked if I would ever consider moving to somewhere further afield, the likes of Singapore. Stubborn old me promptly said no. Another drunken colleague overheard us and for the next 20 minutes or so I was berated by both of them for being so stubborn, and told I should consider all options. My soon-to-be Masters degree from a top institution would open so many doors for me, and having Prof. Arnold's name on a reference wouldn't look to bad either! I stumbled home that evening (early morning) with a lot to think about...if I could remember it in the morning.

Christmas of 2013 came and went, and remember feeling rather bored during the remainder of the holidays as most of my mates would be working overtime in retail, as was I. It was on the 28th of December, due to sheer boredom on a day off, I opened my university email inbox. There was an email from Rowan in which said he'd remembered our conversation from the pub (how?! he was sloshed!) and that he wanted to offer me the opportunity to come and do a PhD with him in Singapore. Stubborn old me immediately thought "pff, no" and that would be the end of that. However, I mentioned it to my mum and she told me:

"Don't be daft, that's a great opportunity - go for it!"

I was surprised she was so positive about it, I thought she'd be stubborn and want her son to stay - after all, where do you think I got my stubbornness from?!

So that was that, I responded to Rowan declaring my interest and we had a chat about the chemistry he was interested in once the semester started again. Our interests were very much aligned, and so it didn't take much more convincing for me to start applying to NUS.

Let's fast forward a few months, where I now, thanks to Rowan's influence, have been awarded the A*STAR SINGA scholarship and accepted into NUS to do a PhD with the provisional start date being August of 2014. However, Rowan then suggested that I defer my PhD until the following term, starting January 2015, and that I be temporarily employed as a research assistant in his lab in order to help set things up. After all, he was just starting out and I was to be his first student. It also happened that his lab was to be relocated around December, and so there would be a fair amount of disruption and he thought it best that this didn't eat up my PhD time. So, I applied for this position and, again thanks to Rowan's influence and no doubt countless nagging emails to admin, I was to be employed by NUS for 4 months.

I graduated from Edinburgh university in July 2014, and then in August I packed my life in to one suitcase and a duffel bag and flew halfway around the world to start anew in Singapore.

Singapore

It took a little while to adjust, particularly to the weather (I still haven't fully adjusted), but it really wasn't too long before I'd settled into life in Singapore and working in the lab. Unfortunately, the lab relocation was 9 months late (I know, right?!) and so my PhD got a bit disrupted anyway (not to mention the countless disruptions since, but I won't ramble). Nonetheless, the "RowDY" group was up and running with a few more postdocs and undergrad project students.

I'll refrain from talking too much about the goings-on here in Singapore, as not much of it is very interesting anyway. All day lab, go home and sleep, repeat. A bit of travelling here and there. Sound familiar? One highlight, however, was during my 2nd year when I got to go to Melbourne to attend the ICOMC2016 conference and present a poster. I went along with Rowan, he was giving a talk. We met Prof. Arnold in Melbourne, so it was cool to have a mini reunion of sorts, albeit only a brief catch up chat - we had conferencing to do! I really enjoyed my first proper conference experience, and I really loved Melbourne. So much, in fact, that I went again in 2017 for a week-long holiday, to do all the things I never got to do whilst there for the conference. Also, for all my fellow coffee lovers, the coffee truly is awesome in Melbourne. I can't wait to go back again!

Trip to the USA

Anyway, back to chemistry. I'll jump to my next big milestone in my chemistry career.

I took a punt at applying for the SciFinder Future Leaders programme, which I'd heard a little about thanks to the chemistry Twitter community. Some of the cool people that I follow had attended in previous years and were encouraging anyone and everyone to apply. I read the application requirements and saw that I had to write an 500-1000 word essay about my research and how I use SciFinder and other chemistry resources in my day-to-day work.

"Essay?!" I thought. Initially it put me off as I felt like "I can't be bothered, I've too much to do". But after watching the interviews with previous leaders, one statement by my fellow Scot Marc Reid (@reidindeed) really resonated with me:

"If you think it's for you, apply. If you think it's not for you, apply!"

So I put aside one Sunday afternoon in a Starbucks and bashed it out in one sitting, plus heaps of cutting and editing in the evening.

I met all the other requirements and submitted my application in time for the deadline in February 2017. I was assuming I wouldn't get it because all the previous Future Leaders seemed so much, I suppose, smarter than me. Honestly, I'd felt a bit of imposter syndrome when watching the interviews with previous awardees. I realised that I had been quite lucky up to this point in my career - scraping through my exams at school and getting a PhD because I knew a guy. I had a decent resume behind me, but I thought it paled in comparison to the calibre of applicants to this programme.

April came around, and I received an email confirming I'd been accepted into the programme. I was shocked. Surely not me? I couldn't believe it, really. But it was so, I was going to the USA in August! 

I soon found out that my old mentor, Nicola, had also been awarded a place in the programme. What were the chances?! Mentor and mentee reunited 3 years later on the other side of the world! With her still being a member of the Arnold group, it was like another mini reunion, similar to Melbourne in 2016. Prof. Arnold's empire knows no bounds!

August came and off to the USA I went. 3 flights later, one of them 14 hours long (0/10 do not recommend), I arrived in Columbus, Ohio, for the first part of the programme as CAS headquarters. Myself and the other 21 Future Leaders quickly became a close knit group, like we'd all known each other for years. It was a fabulous experience, but I won't divulge any details here, it's for you to find out when you apply for yourself!

We later flew to Washington D.C. for the 254th ACS National Meeting, where a few of the Future Leaders were also presenting, but most of us were just attending the talks we wanted to see. It was a huge scale conference, I had no idea there could be so many chemists in one place at the same time. We practically invaded D.C! I saw lots of excellent talks and learned a lot of new and exciting chemistry, and I was able to meet lots of new people.

Alas, the conference came to an end, as did the Future Leaders programme, and we all went home with heavy hearts knowing that we'd all just had an absolutely brilliant experience that will live long in our memories. We all became good friends, and I am sure we will endeavour to catch up whenever we are in each other's cities in future.

It genuinely took me about 2 weeks to settle back into routine in Singapore, I had had such a good time in the USA with everyone that I was longing to go back in time and do it all again. But sadly, no one has invented such a technology...yet.

It's early November now, and it's #RealTimeChem week! The whole reason behind this rambling life story that I've written. So now I just want to take a bit of time to promote the use of Twitter if you are a chemist (although I bet anyone actually reading this found it via Twitter!) 

I joined Twitter during my undergrad, but I never used it really. I signed up because I was procrastinating. It wasn't until sometime during my 1st year of my PhD that I really took to using it, and it's because I stumbled upon the hashtag of #RealTimeChem. I looked into it and found a cornucopia of fellow chemists from around the world, all tweeting about their day-to-day lives in research. Mundane as it may seem, it is a great platform to share your successes and failures in the lab, whether you got 99% yield, an amazing crystal, or your reaction accidentally exploded all over your fumehood! Being able to relate to this day-to-day stuff is very comforting because, I find personally, that it keeps impostor syndrome somewhat at bay. Long days culminating in failed experiments can be rather depressing, making you feel dumb and like you don't belong in science. But logging on to Twitter and seeing that many fellow chemists are suffering the same fate, can ease the pain a bit. We're not all infallible geniuses in the lab at all time, you know! Ha!

It's also a great platform to share other aspects of life in chemistry, such as the dreaded pain of writing - whether it be presentations, reports, manuscripts or reviews - and the long, drawn out process of submission, rejection and editing of papers. I've also seen teaching fellows consoling each other when their lectures don't go well or the students have written unnecessarily scathing feedback.

Ultimately, the "ChemTweeps" are like an extended family, most of whom you've never met but are still there to provide support, consolation and congratulations, whichever is appropriate at the time.

Well, I think I've covered my chemistry story in rather a lot of detail here. Apologies if you got bored, but if you actually read this far then thank you! I hope it can provide some sort of inspiration to you and make you realise that scientists aren't all Einstein-esque, super-smart total nerds, and that sometimes we just get lucky!

Be sure to get on Twitter and follow @RealTimeChem and start tweeting your chemistry with the hashtag #RealTimeChem and, for this week, #chemtogether. My personal Twitter handle is @ChemistCraig so be sure to follow me too!