Post post graduate

Making the transition from grad school to industry is a big deal.  Most people dive into the embracing bosom of a large company. A few choose the riskier startups. 

Large organizations have something called infrastructure.  This is truly a fabulous concept. The hireling lands on an organizational sleep number mattress where all of the necessary bureaucratic mechanisms are in place. Job descriptions are etched in the finest Italian marble and loving administrative assistants sing their sweet, tender songs of service to you like the Sirens on the rocks of Scylla. Your company credit card arrives in the mail one day and you sit there imagining the possibilities.

And lo! For the first few years life is grand. You become accustomed to the benefits package and the commute. Your responsibilities become clear. You forge alliances and carefully note the treacherous characters. Your spouse finds work and you sign a mortgage. Your lunchtime conversations are discussions of local school districts and churches and mill levees. Older relatives will begin to die of old age and you’ll be attending funerals.

Then the economy stalls or your companies blockbuster drug is found to have unexpected mortalities. Management announces that there is a hiring freeze and restraints are placed on spending.  Then one friday morning it is announced that there will be downsizing.  They’ll say that they hope to accomplish it with early retirements and attrition.  A few months pass and then they’ll announce a restructuring or continued downsizing. You find yourself looking at the ads in C&EN with increased interest.

But it could just as easily go the other way. Your team could produce a new class of compounds that turn the business on its head.  You could find yourself on a horse giving you the ride of your life. Your group could find itself keeping teams of patent lawyers busy writing Markush claims covering thousands of molecular permutations.

On this ride, you could be involved in scaleup with engineers asking questions about space yields, calorimetry, side products, and all manner of process improvements.

There is a great deal of luck involved in any successful project. I know people who have participated in or lead actual paradigm shifts in chemical technology. I can’t mention their names. Believe me, they are very talented people. But they are talented participants in a field of talented people.  Their personal successful outcome also had a large dollop of luck in the making. They were at the right company in the right time interval.

At conferences they’ll strut around like roosters, and that is OK. They genuinely deserve their time in the spotlight. But they know, like you do, that you’re only as good as your last accomplishment.  In the end, few of us have much control of anything.  Whether you reach the highest achievement or you plod on in anonymity, your fate is largely woven into the web of commerce.

4 thoughts on “Post post graduate

  1. milo

    For the first few years life is grand. You become accustomed to the benefits package and the commute. Your responsibilities become clear. You forge alliances and carefully note the treacherous characters. Your spouse finds work and you sign a mortgage. Your lunchtime conversations are discussions of local school districts and churches and mill levees. Older relatives will begin to die of old age and you’ll be attending funerals.

    Please stop. You are scaring me. Fortunately, I have not signed a mortgage yet.

    In all seriousness, one could craft similar prose to describe the lofty goal of becoming a highly respected member of the elite academic community.

    Reply
  2. gaussling Post author

    I just have to marvel at how often pure academic talent is completely insufficient to rise to the top of industry or academia. Political skills and intermittant episodes of ruthlessness are key. In the chemical industry you find that chemical engineers are often at the top. We scientists live in the 4-dimensional world of space and time. Engineers operate in the 5th dimension of dollars. If you want to be a captain of industry, you need the sacred knowledge of money. Few chemists ever prepare for this.

    Reply
  3. Paul

    I think your last comment summarized why I will never apply for or get a job in industry. I don’t like thinking about money–mine or the company’s. So long as there is “enough” to do what I want to do, I’m happy.

    Reply

Leave a reply to Paul Cancel reply