Crowdsourcing ideas

What if you could use a lensless, portable microscope to detect microbes in the air? This did not occur to the designers of the apparatus, which cost hundreds of thousands of pounds to develop but was lying unused in a storeroom at Oxford University. But it did occur to James Dash, a 15-year-old pupil at John Hampden Grammar School in High Wycombe, Buckinghamshire. His winning proposal was one of 51 entries in a competition run by Marblar, a website for crowdsourcing ideas.

CyMap, researchers’ name for the device, is one of countless clever gizmos and techniques mothballed as solutions in search of a problem. An estimated 95% of all technologies coming out of universities never make it to the real world. Marblar, which was launched in September by a bunch of PhD students in Britain, aims to harness the collective imagination to prevent such waste. Other ongoing competitions invite people to come up with uses for a new kind of foam, a probe inspired by a wasp sting or paint-guns to squirt layers of paint just few molecules across.

The original inventors pay a small fee to post a challenge on Marblar’s website, using videos and slideshows to explain in plain English how their technology works. Geeks of all ages then submit their ideas about what it might be used for. Other users rate these before the inventors themselves pick the winner, who typically receives a cash prize of about £500 ($800). In future, says Daniel Perez, one of Marblar’s co-founders, winners may be invited to partner with the inventors and gain a stake in the commercialisation of their joint intellectual effort.

Marblar will not eliminate all waste. Many inventions have straightforward uses, says Lita Nelsen, director of the (rather busy) technology-licensing office of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, all they need is better marketing. This is something technology transfer officers, often business-minded boffins who are able both to identify prospective licensees and explain the research to a non-scientist, may be better placed to do.

But Marblar is definitely onto something. IP group, a British venture-capital firm that invests in innovations spun out of universities, has ploughed about $600,000 into the start-up. It is already considering creating a company to commercialise a technology to glue strands of DNA without using an enzyme. In another challenge, a PhD student from Cambridge noticed that this is just the sort of thing he needed in his work on novel methods for drug delivery.

First published on economist.com.

Image credit: Marblar

How popular is your element?

XKCD inspires many people. Now it has inspired a periodic table geek

XKCD’s latest is a calendar of meaningful dates based upon how often a date is represented in English-language books since 2000. Anders Sandberg, a neuroscientist at Oxford University, has taken inspiration from that calender and his love for yttrium to construct a new kind of periodic table. It’s based on how popular each element is on the interweb (roughly based on Google search hits).

As Anders explains:

Most popular were, perhaps unsurprisingly, gold (2.7 billion) and silver (1.9 billion). Lead got into third place (1.4 billion), perhaps due to the fairly common verb “to lead” rather than its heavy charisma. Why tin is so popular (1.1 billion) beats me.

Least popular are the transuranians, with Bohrium (40,600), Livermorium (106,000) and Flerovium (118,000) as the least popular. These might suffer a bit because they are recently named and people might still remember them with their old names. But they are still fairly obscure outside connoisseurs of heavy nuclei. Why Meitnerium is so popular compared to the others also beats me.

Robert Munafo, an independent American researcher, points out that tin’s popularity might be down to its usage in Vietnamese. Of course, as Anders accepts, his algorithm based on two hours of work isn’t perfect. There may be a way to semantically weed out non-elemental usage of these words, and I do hope that someone starts working on that.

Till then, I take solace in the fact that Osmium seems to be doing just as well as Polonium and Thorium. How is your favourite element doing?

PS: Here is a large PDF/JPG of the table.

Why I chose journalism over science

Warning: You are about to become victims of my introspection 

The motivation for writing this is the conversation that was spurred by a post on why doing a PhD to become a science writer is a bad idea. While those conversations helped me crystallise my thoughts for this post, it was not where they first began.

Earlier this year I submitted my PhD thesis. While graduate students go through common experiences (that Jorge Cham so beautifully portrays in PhD Comics), every doctorate is unique because everyone has different reasons to pursue it.

I applied to graduate school because it seemed like a very attractive option. First reason was the prospect of studying in a university that had people from all disciplines and not just chemical engineering, as happens to be the case in the Institute of Chemical Technology where I studied before.

Second was the desire to master a subject. My undergraduate degree was a menagerie of subjects across engineering, chemistry and biology (I specialised in pharmaceutical sciences and technology). While that was great, I just did not have enough time to be able to fully appreciate how amazing each of these subjects were.

The first two reasons might seem to contradict each other, but they don’t. It is rare to be able to appreciate the messiness of science without a broad understanding of arts and humanities. While many from my undergraduate days might feel that they got that broad understanding in the four years they spent in Mumbai, I felt that my education was incomplete.

That is why the third reason sealed the case. I had an offer letter from Oxford. Just in a short few hours that I spent in Oxford in 2007, I had fallen in love with the city of the dreaming spires and the idea of the knowledge powerhouse that lay hidden behind those stony walls. It was a place that would allow me to widen my horizons and still focus on mastering one subject.

At the end of four years of having made that decision, even though in the process I have decided to not go down the academic path, I feel that I have somewhat succeeded in achieving my goals. But I would not have said that a year ago.

When I started the PhD, apart from “completing” my education, I knew that I wanted to be an academic. The profession lured me because I felt that it will give me the freedom to pursue all my intellectual interests; that it will allow me to mingle with the best minds of the world; that academics are not bothered by the administrative hurdles of other jobs…

Another bubble?

The bubble broke just after a year of being in the lab. While I still have immense respect for what scientists do (I wouldn’t write about science otherwise), from up close I could see that the profession faces the same challenges that many other professions do. What sealed my decision to not go down that path, though, was the question: do I love my subject enough to be able to dedicate my whole life to it? I wasn’t so sure.

I am a restless person with many interests. I knew few young academics who were able to pursue more than just one interest (ie their own subject) with their full heart in it. I’ve also heard many horror stories where people have spent 15-20 years waiting to secure that dream job of having their own lab, but never got there.

But as it happens, on leaving academia, I chose journalism—a profession that commands a lot less respect (compared to scientists who command the most), has fewer permanent positions, offers smaller compensations, is known to have poorer career progression and, finally, most importantly, I do not have “proper training” for.

Will I regret this?

It is not such a mad decision, after all. I chose to be a journalist because I loved the job, but I am also a pragmatist. Each of the criticisms of a journalistic career over a scientific one can be dealt with.

Although people have less trust in journalists, it is a statistical average. An honest journalist is often well-respected, and great journalism also happens to command a lot of influence over its audience.

It has far fewer permanent positions, but it is also a career that has a lot of freelancers. Although freelancing early in the career is hard, there are ways to reach there which have been tried and tested.

It offers a smaller compensation, but I am happy to balance that with job satisfaction.

Although there are many trained journalists out there, many of the top journalists I have spoken to have told me that journalism is more a craft than a science. A lot of the people who do a master’s in journalism have the same experience. So as long as you have your fundamentals in place, you can become an excellent journalist through practice and apprenticeship.

And, finally, if you think about it, scientists and journalists are in someways doing the same thing. Both aim to decipher how things work and disseminate their findings to the world, just at vastly different timescales. Where as things in the sciences are considered objective, that in reality is a subjective notion.

But the decision wasn’t that straightforward. Those defecting research, especially having pursued a PhD or post-doc, are viewed as failures. As Jenny Rohn, a cell biologist who is considering leaving academia, recently wrote: scientists may consider such defectors “as turning away from the “right” path to something that is more lightweight, more flimsy, less worthy of their talent and effort.”

It is sad that some scientists are that small-minded to consider their work to be superior to that of many others. And, yes, that happens even in a place like Oxford which is full of brilliant people on either side of the divide.

PS: Yes, I haven’t failed to see the irony in that. At the end of my PhD one of my aims was to “complete” my education…