An enduring enthusiasm for academic science, but with concerns

INTRODUCTION I turned 70 this year and started graduate school shortly after turning 20. Thus, at this writing, I have spent 71.3% of my life in academic science. I have no regrets and hope to continue for years to come, because I remain an unabashed enthusiast for both the research and education components of this profession. The high honor of the E. B. Wilson Medal and the accompanying request to write this essay give me an opportunity to reflect on why this is so, as well as on my concerns about the fouling of the nest that has made it harder for any of us—but particularly for younger people—to enjoy academic science as I have over the past 50 years. My enthusiasm should not be misunderstood as naïveté. I well understand that not every aspect of the job is fun; some tasks are inevitably tedious or even painful. It hasn’t always been easy for me personally; like most people, I struggle with my own limitations, notably an incurable perfectionism and the frequently linked traits of avoidance and procrastination, which have often made it difficult for me to finish papers and other tasks. I have had papers and grants rejected and seemingly great ideas that turned out to be lousy when actually tested. As a graduate student, postdoc on two continents, faculty member at three universities, and dean for graduate students and postdocs, I have seen plenty of nasty stuff: subcompetent people obstructing progress at all levels; arrogance and self-centered insensitivity to the feelings of others; exploitation of students and postdocs by faculty; dishonesty ranging from exaggerated claims and the concealment of inconvenient data to gross fabrication; pointless and demeaning squabbles about priority and authorship; abuse of the still-critical tenure system; inappropriate behavior by editors and reviewers; and behavior driven by lust for power, money, and fame rather than by any desire to understand nature and (perhaps) improve human wellbeing in the process. And, in recent decades, I have seen the environment in which science is done erode in ways that I deplore. Nonetheless, I still feel that doing science is fundamentally Good (even noble) and that universities are wonderful places. I still look forward (almost) every day to going to the lab, and I have liked (to various degrees) almost every scientist I have known over a long career. How can this be? My attempt at explanation follows.