GRAD5104 – Preparing Future Professoriate

A belated post about the professorial requirement of teaching, research and service – seems nearly impossible to do simultaneously. Something has to give, and it usually seems to be the teaching.

It is a little saddening to see professors who have received numerous teaching awards early on in their careers slowly drift away from teaching due to other obligations. If we were to be cynical, then it’d be easy to say that the financial incentives lie outside of academia. Consulting, after all, is much more lucrative. But I also think the shift in focus is not entirely the professor’s fault. Responsibilities come naturally with good reputation and expertise. The professors are called upon to solve problems nobody else could solve. They are bestowed cross-country lecture honors impossible to turn down. With finite time and energy, priorities shift, and students get bumped lower on the list.

My experience has been to fill in the role of teacher whenever my advisor is away. While a good experience for me, it might not always be optimal for the students. I cannot offer the industry experience and the holistic perspectives my advisor can, especially for courses at the graduate engineering level. The irony is that teaching engineering requires industry experience, but it is also the industry experience that takes away teaching.

When service requirements become especially demanding, research could suffer as well. I find that while PhD students still get the attention, students conducting research at the Masters level seem to fade into insignificance.

I am not sure how anyone could simultaneously juggle so many responsibilities. It is not even a matter of cutting back on hours of sleep or abusing tenure. Responsibilities shift, and it’s not always possible or even ethical to say “no.”

What I’d like to see in the future is a more sustainable campus. I realize the university has already set sustainability goals targeting climate change and energy consumption (http://facilities.vt.edu/sustainability/climate-action-commitment.html), but given the importance of moving towards a more sustainable future, I don’t think it’d hurt to reaffirm. The university should lead by example and is a prime setting for adopting more sustainable practices.

Some specific implementations I would like to see:

• staff training for proper waste sorting; the different waste bins are already in place, but the human implementations also have to be educated and complementary
• reducing paper towel waste in bathrooms especially in old buildings
• pool heating and other energy requirements fulfilled using renewable energy sources
• building retrofits
• greater rewards and incentives for transportation sharing to/from school
• rooftop gardens, which reduces runoff and could be used as leisure space for students and staff

Irreverent, but possibly the only place I could be without getting the stink eye (and potentially the boot) from the higher-ups. It’s hard to voice an opinion and have it heard when things seem so set in stone. The program appears to be ruled with an iron fist by men older than dinosaurs, who predictably need help with the laptop whenever they decide to brave The PowerPoint.

Don’t get me wrong – these are clever, respected men. Living legends, in fact. They hold monumental titles and countless letters behind their names. They are an inspiration to students and worshipped by all in their field of study. So worshipped, that they still have the largest offices with the plushest chairs after 20 plus years of retirement. They are there for the consultation of current professors, lest their beloved program crumbles without the keen oversight.

So what chance does an incoming, young professor have when these old-timers won’t let go? What roles should these new people play, aside from filling in on menial tasks unwanted by everyone else?

The saying “don’t fix what isn’t broken” has much value. But at the same time, should fresh, potentially more relevant ideas be implemented only after the old ones…die out? I may be exaggerating, but I do think the power differential, and the new faculty’s struggle to establish his or her place in the program, are real. Perhaps more importantly, stubbornly sticking with traditional may set an unwelcoming and exclusionary tone.

The appeal of a small, sleepy college town may be non-existent for many already. Throw in additional hurdles for the incoming, and the program may find itself one step closer to the end of a legacy.

The PhD qualifying exam strikes fear like no other exam. It forces you to study both broadly and deeply within your field, yet the exact content remains unknown until the exam day. Even then, the problems are usually more open-ended, leaving you pondering and uncertain. The format varies across disciplines, but the goal is the same – to examine whether the student is ready for doctoral research work. There’s an academic component, consisting of mastery and synthesis of subjects, critical examination of literature and argument, and then there’s an emotional, psychological component that’s largely unpracticed yet could be the game-changer.

I took mine last September/October and thankfully passed. It consisted of a 3-day take-home written portion, followed by an hour-long orals to be completed within the next few weeks. Not a PhD candidate yet, because there’s still a research proposal to be approved. The road to candidacy is long and arduous. Certainly greater technical insight was gained through the process, but what changed most might have been the mentality.

The exams required you to think clearly under copious amounts of stress (and sleep deprivation, and hunger). The thought of giving up was pervasive in the face of time constraint, but those 6 solutions just had to be churned out in 3 days. Then there was the orals portion during which 3 stern-faced professors stared you down while frantically searching for a solution on the spot. A rite of passage of sorts, one that could be a microcosm of academia. What happens when a roomful of colleagues at a conference decide to ask you, the presenter, a question to which the answer might not be obvious?

Perhaps the greatest psychological burden is one of failure. You start to question your own abilities and confidence, compounding the doubt already there about when you would get research results and graduate. You wonder whether you have embarrassed your advisor and research group. You might feel like crawling into a hole, unable to face your peers.

As earth-shattering as the experience can be, the truth is that those around you won’t think any less of you. I’m writing because I would like to provide words of encouragement to all those out there who will be taking it, or have taken it and came out unhappy.

No doubt the PhD qualifying exam is tough. It’s certainly meant to be, and the student is given the option to retake it for good reasons. The first time is always an unpredictable adventure. It’s normal if it doesn’t go as expected. Seek out the professors’ feedback, reflect on them and don’t take them personally. The exam pressure could be fortifying instead crumbling, though it might not feel like it at the time. Use the experience to help you grow. That same pressure will likely be faced elsewhere.

I’m interested in hearing your qualifying exam format and experience. I think sharing will help everyone who has to go through the process.

For the past two years, I have been a scribe for the Center for Geotechnical Practice and Research (CGPR) and thus been privy to the organization’s voting of research initiatives. An initiative that has been repeatedly requested is “big data” and its compilation, organization and access. Emphasized, because I now understand that’s what the request has really been about.

Some background on the CGPR. It’s a consortium of private geotechnical engineering firms that meet annually at Virginia Tech to vote on research initiatives. Essentially, the companies propose and vote on research topics of priority, and fund graduate students (myself included) to work on these.

The “big data” the CGPR wants refers to geotechnical data (soil engineering properties, measurements of load and deformation) from lab testing, field testing and case histories that have been amassed throughout the decades but scattered across the professional industry and academic institutions. There are many reasons why all the engineering firms would like access. Main ones include: 1) for a profession that performs analysis, design and construction based on experience and judgment, all that data understandably has much value; 2) case histories of failures are of particular interest; the profession as a whole has historically advanced through lessons learned from failures; 3) the suitability of applying statistical analysis and risk assessment to the soil medium which is inherently variable in nature. Unfortunately, legal barriers, client privacy, and just the logistics of organizing and rendering access to all the data have resulted in the initiative being left on the back burner for years. Everyone is interested, yet there’s a lack of jump start of any sort on the issue. I think the main problem is no one is quite sure what to do.

The Open Access forum was an eye-opening experience for me. It was good to hear about the various platforms and cross-industry experiences. The CGPR could similarly benefit, since the movement towards greater openness and access seems to be just what is needed to advance the geotechnical profession. I think the university could be a key promoter. Organizations like the CGPR exists in the first place because of the belief in the benefits of research, higher education and forward-thinking ideas, including potentially disruptive movements such as open access. I can see how the movement could gain momentum and translate to professional practice because the demand is already there. Safe to say that universities should keep pushing.

Published with Elsevier, the Journal of Rock Mechanics and Geotechnical Engineering is peer-reviewed and open-access. With publishing costs subsidized by the Chinese Academy of Sciences, authors do not have to pay any fees, and the articles are immediately and permanently free for everyone to read and download. It appears to make sense that the same Academy is also responsible for the peer-review. A quick glance through the editorial board shows a list of mostly Chinese editors, though they are scattered in institutions from around the world.

I was skeptical at first as to whether there would be a fair representation of authors. The incentive is certainly there to accept more articles from authors within China or scholars affiliated with the Chinese community. In all likelihood, the Chinese Academy of Sciences, no doubt affiliated with the government, decided to subsidize publishing costs to promote scholars from within the country. I counted the number of articles published by Chinese authors in a few issues, and surprisingly, the representation did not appear overly skewed compared to a non-open-access  journal in the same discipline published by Elsevier.

The difference lies instead in the “journal metrics,” values that are meant to measure the journal’s impact and ranking. And prestige. The open-access journal appears to have the lower citation factor, lower impact factor and lower ranking. The metrics are really not surprising.

I think the Journal of Rock Mechanics and Geotechnical Engineering could gain more traction if it diversified in its editorial board. “Free” does not have to be associated with “lower quality,” especially when the evaluation panel is recognized and respected by scholars from around the world. But that may be difficult to do if the journal is in fact tied to some political agenda.

Hearing how acceptance into higher education worked in different parts of the world allowed for some compare and contrast, and an audible sigh of relief. The education system I grew up with in Canada seemed relatively comfortable – no standardized exams, only high school performance, extracurricular records and references. There was plenty of opportunity to make up those grades, and no pressure to perform on one test date, a single day of paramount importance.

The Canadian system has obvious weaknesses. In fact, I’m not sure if there really is a perfect formula for admitting students. If university entrance were based solely on high school performance, then who was to say the grades were distributed fairly across all schools? Granted, some universities make admission decisions based on historical records of the students’ university performance and which high school they graduated from. Even then, these records may not be truly informative for making a fair decision. For example, when choosing a scholarship recipient between two candidates, both with perfect grade averages and similar extracurricular achievements, should the historical record influence who should be awarded? I would like to think, no.

The juxtaposition to the Canadian system would be when admission decisions are based on results from a single standardized exam. I have no doubt that those who succeed are quite brilliant and hard working. At the same time, though, a test could reveal only so much about an individual. There are also cases where students attend extracurricular classes specifically geared towards helping them excel in the national exam, thus undermining the exam objectives of evaluating the students’ learning and ability to problem solve. Not to mention, it becomes a competition of who has more resources to afford the extra help. Sympathy also goes to those who simply don’t do well on tests but are otherwise talented.

I do think the evaluation system in the States is more holistic. The admissions package usually includes different aspects of the students’ performances as well as standardized test results, thus presenting a more complete picture of the individual applicant. The statements written by the student also present a unique, more personal perspective. The geotechnical engineering program in which I’m currently enrolled also conducts an annual open house where decisions are finalized after meeting the prospective students in person.

As much as I like the admissions system in the States, I also think it has much to do with the country’s value system. The weight placed on individuality may be difficult to find in other parts of the world. Who am I to judge which is best when others accept and work with the system they have?

The problem of access to higher education seems to be diminishing with increasing globalization. Students now travel across the globe for education. Even if rejection is encountered in one system, there could be opportunity found in another. Fellowships, and inter-university relationships, present more chances, especially for those who may be socio-economically disadvantaged. The system is not perfect, but at least the trend seems to be leaning towards greater access and opportunities.

An article in The Chronicle of Higher Education talks about a course offered at Caltech that teaches STEM students how to use digital platforms to communicate research to both scientists and non-scientists.

Article can be found here: http://www.chronicle.com/article/Science-Students-Learn-to-Use/237158

The course is the result of the collaboration between a chemical engineering professor and a communications program manager. What’s unique is that it is geared towards the specific needs of STEM students. Using case studies, topics include online reputation, effective presentation, the law, and crisis management.

My first reaction was a definite positive, followed by, I wish we had a similar course here at VT. Something that goes beyond the familiar written report and PowerPoint. As an engineering student, I have not been required to use social media in any of my academic work. In fact, this blog was foreign territory until very recently.

But the truth is that social media has become firmly embedded in our everyday life, whether we like it or not. Might as well take advantage of it and optimize the way it’s used. STEM students, so used to whispering among their exclusive conclaves, could further promote their research and accomplishments, especially if their funding comes from public sources. Not to mention, these are the same people who have the knowledge to combat alternative facts.

In that sense, use of social media comes with responsibilities and repercussions. The speed at which “facts” spread calls for the need to present research in the right context, lest it becomes skewed through inference. Students and faculty alike should be aware of the impact the presentation of their research could have. The online reputation and legal aspects covered in the Caltech course also seems (incredibly) useful and supplementary.

Perhaps the biggest hurdle, as the article mentions, is reaching the desired audience. It makes sense then that such a course should evolve along with the capabilities of the technologies, integrating tips into the curriculum on overcoming these network barriers.

An extension to that last thought is that the school curriculum in general should evolve. Like the television that found ubiquity in almost every household, social media, as a form of communication, has gained traction and widespread use. And its tremendous power is now in the palm of your hand, literally, but only if we know how to use it.

As an aspiring engineer, I had to pass a written exam on law and ethics as part of the requirement for license with the Professional Engineers Ontario (Canada). The ethics portion of the exam dealt with the Code of Ethics that must be followed by all licensed engineers. It can be found at this link: http://peo.on.ca/index.php?ci_id=1815&la_id=1

Some key points from the Code:

• Fidelity to public needs; safety and welfare are paramount
• Fairness and loyalty to client, employer, employee and associates
• Competence in area of practice

Maintaining the license requires abiding by the Code of Ethics, enacted by law (Professional Engineers Act). Thus, unethical misconduct could result in the suspension or revocation of the license and right to practice.

When I graduated from undergraduate civil engineering at the University of Toronto, I participated in the Ritual of the Calling of an Engineer. I have taken an oath not to divulge the ceremony details, but the outcome was that I wear an iron ring (choice of stainless steel or cast iron) on the pinkie of my working hand. The ritual was initiated in 1922, catalyzed by the Quebec Bridge disaster – a result of the negligence of practicing engineers. The iron ring’s presence on the working hand serves to remind the engineer that his or her work has consequences, and thus the engineer has ethical obligations to the public.

The Office of Research Integrity publishes case summaries of research misconduct, almost all of which are related to the falsification and fabrication of data in the field of health science. A commonality seems to be the repeated – hardly ever single – occurrence of offence. What’s more interesting, or appalling, is that the series of questionable papers were often authored by the same set of people. The case of Zhiyu Li (2016) is an example. On a number of manuscripts and grant applications, the respondent knowingly, intentionally and recklessly made false claims, supported with tampered images and fabricated data.

First, I have to say the offenders, however unethical, garner some sympathy. The pressure to produce results – to continue one’s career – can be withering. Enough so that lies, and multiple lies, were deemed necessary. Those currently doing their PhD research can probably relate. The mounting frustration during the few years is likely only the tip of the iceberg compared to the enormous challenge of having  to make one’s career, livelihood, and sense of self-manifestation out of research. And as with all research, it continues to exist only with progress. Real or fake.

Li’s case brings to question how research should be collaborated and validated. What were the roles of the 3 other authors of the faulty publications? Whose responsibility was it to validate and cross-check? Were the other authors held accountable in any way? Where is the line drawn between collaboration and collusion? Is there a system in place to allow whistle-blowing? It’s unbelievable that none of the authors thought to put an end to the chain of deceit.

I don’t know the answer to how to make cheating the less appealing alternative. However, I do think that more cases of ethical behavior should be published, heard and rewarded. Research misconduct seems like the last resort, but it does not have to be if researchers were aware of other options and know where to get help if necessary.