{"id":248,"date":"2006-12-18T10:03:06","date_gmt":"2006-12-18T10:03:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/scientopia.org\/blogs\/goodmath\/2006\/12\/18\/ask-a-scienceblogger-the-effects-of-criticism\/"},"modified":"2006-12-18T10:03:06","modified_gmt":"2006-12-18T10:03:06","slug":"ask-a-scienceblogger-the-effects-of-criticism","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/2006\/12\/18\/ask-a-scienceblogger-the-effects-of-criticism\/","title":{"rendered":"Ask a ScienceBlogger: The Effects of Criticism"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>This week&#8217;s &#8220;Ask a ScienceBlogger&#8221; is an interesting one, but *very* tricky to answer.<br \/>\nThe question was proposed by fellow SBer [Dave Munger:][munger] **&#8221;What&#8217;s a time in your<br \/>\ncareer when you were criticized extremely harshly by someone you respect? Did it help you or<br \/>\nset your career back?&#8221;**<br \/>\n[munger]: http:\/\/scienceblogs.com\/cognitivedaily\/<br \/>\nI have to tread carefully while answering this one. It&#8217;s a good question, but it involves people who *could* be reading the blog.<br \/>\nOverall, I&#8217;ve been remarkably lucky in my career. For the most part, I&#8217;ve had excellent<br \/>\nmentors who&#8217;ve been kind and helpful, and I&#8217;ve done my best to listen to them, and not<br \/>\nscrew things up badly enough for them to really tear into me. But no one in a research career can escape complete unscathed. So I&#8217;ve got my own war stories of the ways that I&#8217;ve been shredded. And the effect\/outcome has varied enormously.<\/p>\n<p><!--more--><br \/>\n### Grad School: Finding the Right Research Community<br \/>\nThe obvious place to start is grad school. Back then, I was doing work in parallel computing.<br \/>\nThe particular area that I was focused on was what&#8217;s now a very hot topic called [&#8220;grid<br \/>\ncomputing&#8221;][grid]. At the time, thought, it was very much *not* an area of interest. Back<br \/>\nthen, the big interest was in massively parallel supercomputers, and how to compile<br \/>\nnumerically intensive array-based code so that it could take advantage of the superfast<br \/>\nhardware. But I didn&#8217;t care. I wanted to do what I wanted to do. And the result was that<br \/>\nit was almost impossible for me to publish my work.<br \/>\nI got some positively *brutal* reviews. What was depressing about that wasn&#8217;t just the negativity of the reviews, but the sheer *pointlessness* of them. They weren&#8217;t really criticizing the quality of the work &#8211; they were judging it as something that it wasn&#8217;t: everything parallel was viewed through the lens of array-based supercomputing, and my work<br \/>\nwas not intended as that, and it was terrible for it. It got to the point where the last<br \/>\npaper I submitted in grad school repeated the phrase &#8220;While this does not perform well on<br \/>\nnumerical array based code, that is not it&#8217;s intended problem domain&#8221; in no less than **six** different places in a ten-page paper. And still came back with a rejection where the reviews basically said &#8220;Yeah, but it doesn&#8217;t work on numerical array based code&#8221;.<br \/>\nWhat did I learn from that? As a researcher, you&#8217;re a member of a community. You need to<br \/>\nconsider the community when you&#8217;re doing the work. That doesn&#8217;t mean doing things that you<br \/>\nthink are irrelevant, but it does mean that *framing* your work so that it fits in with some<br \/>\ncommunity is an absolutely essential step. I could have done nearly the same work, but<br \/>\npresented it in terms of distributed computing rather than parallel computing, and fit nicely<br \/>\ninto the distributed programming community. It would have amounted to taking the research<br \/>\nagenda I was interested in, and reordering it a little, but that wouldn&#8217;t have been a big<br \/>\ndeal. But because I believed in it as parallel computing, I insisted on publishing it in the<br \/>\nparallel programming community, and got burned as a result. I don&#8217;t mean to say that the<br \/>\nright way to be a researcher is to pile on to whatever is hot and trendy today; but rather that you need to understand research communities, and learn how to frame your work so that it will be seen by the people who will appreciate it. When I was in grad school, the kind of work<br \/>\nI was doing simply *was not* of any interest to the parallel programming community; trying to<br \/>\nforce them to look at it was a waste of my time. But there were communities that would<br \/>\nhave been very interested in it, had I taken the time to learn about them and present it to<br \/>\nthem in the correct way.<br \/>\n### Work: Standing Up for Myself<br \/>\nI&#8217;ve got two other stories about being harshly criticized that I think are interesting; both led to the same conclusion, but in very different ways.<br \/>\nAt one point not too long after grad school, I worked for a manager who was very manipulative.<br \/>\nHe constantly tore me down, criticized everything I did, shredded every idea I proposed, and<br \/>\ngenerally tried to make me believe I was an idiot, so that I would quietly and meekly do<br \/>\nwhatever he wanted me to do. It was a horrible experience; I already had a tendency to be<br \/>\ninsecure, and being told day in and day out that *every* idea I had was ridiculous, every line<br \/>\nof code I wrote was terrible, every word that came out of my mouth was stupid just reinforced<br \/>\nthat.<br \/>\nI eventually got out of that situation through nothing more than pure luck, and under the<br \/>\ntutelage of my new manager, learned that I wasn&#8217;t an idiot, that I could have good ideas<br \/>\nsometimes, and that I had to be able to stand up for myself. What I learned from the new<br \/>\nmanager was that there is no excuse for that kind of abuse &#8211; not for the manager dishing it<br \/>\nout, and not for the managee taking it. There will always be asshole managers &#8211; but an abusive<br \/>\nmanager\/employee relationship like that can only exist because *both people* allow it to.<br \/>\nIn my case, even if I truly *were* as stupid and awful as that manager kept telling me I was,<br \/>\nthat&#8217;s no way to treat an employee. A *good* manager with a poorly performing employee should<br \/>\neither work with them to improve their work, or fire them. And a good employee should know<br \/>\nthat as well, so that if their manager is treating them as a poorly performing employee, but<br \/>\nnot doing anything to help them improve, they need to stand up to the criticism, and do what&#8217;s<br \/>\nnecessary to fix things *for themselves* &#8211; either by confronting the manager, by taking the<br \/>\nmatter to an higher level manager or ombudsman, or by quitting and finding a different job.<br \/>\nThe last little story of criticism is the happiest one. It involves the same good manager who<br \/>\nI worked for in the second half of the previous story. After I&#8217;d worked for him for several<br \/>\nyears, and my third project for him was finishing up, I wanted to get into something called<br \/>\nsoftware configuration management. He was absolutely opposed to my doing that; he said that<br \/>\nthere was simply *no way* that I should waste my time running down that rat-hole. And that<br \/>\nmade me reconsider. But I&#8217;d learned from my earlier experiences. I spent some time looking at<br \/>\nthe problem, looking at research communities, and looking at communities inside of the<br \/>\ncompany, and I was *still* convinced that getting into SCM was the right thing to do. So I<br \/>\nput together all of the information I&#8217;d gather into a research plan, and convinced him to let me spend at least *some* of my time working on it. He ended up getting<br \/>\npromoted to another job, and transferred me to yet another manager, who ended up being the<br \/>\nbest manager I ever heard; the work that he&#8217;d initially discouraged, but grudgingly let me try<br \/>\nturned into the best work I&#8217;ve ever done, and 10 years later, I&#8217;m still working in SCM, and loving it.<br \/>\nBut as happy as I am with where I wound up, I&#8217;m very grateful for that criticism that he<br \/>\ngave me. He was right that getting into that area was *not* going to be an easy task.<br \/>\nHis criticism made me take the time to really methodically think it through: to think about the communities that I needed to work with, to think about the best way to frame the work, and to carefully plan out the right way to approach and prioritize the work. There&#8217;s no way that<br \/>\nI would have been as successful in my new area if he *hadn&#8217;t* forced me to do that.<br \/>\nI&#8217;ll be starting on a new project towards the middle of next year (but still in SCM), and<br \/>\nI&#8217;m going to attack my ideas and plans in exactly the way that I had to do to convince<br \/>\nthat manager to let me work on that old project. It was the right way to approach<br \/>\na new piece of work. I didn&#8217;t know that before, but his *constructive* criticism,<br \/>\nwhile harsh, was absolutely appropriate, and taught me something that I really needed to know.<br \/>\n[grid]: http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Grid_computing<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>This week&#8217;s &#8220;Ask a ScienceBlogger&#8221; is an interesting one, but *very* tricky to answer. The question was proposed by fellow SBer [Dave Munger:][munger] **&#8221;What&#8217;s a time in your career when you were criticized extremely harshly by someone you respect? Did it help you or set your career back?&#8221;** [munger]: http:\/\/scienceblogs.com\/cognitivedaily\/ I have to tread carefully [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[12],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-248","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-chatter"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4lzZS-40","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/248","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=248"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/248\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=248"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=248"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.goodmath.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=248"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}