This is a joint post by Dani Rabaiotti and Jeff Clements. You can find the sister version of this post over at Dani’s website.
Ah! Conferences. A time take in the cool work that others are doing, and share the cool work that you’ve been doing – and a time to relax and network. Well, maybe for some. But a concerning number of researchers (particularly students and early career researchers, or ECRs) are unable to relax and network at conferences because of negative experiences. While there are a number of factors that can influence one’s experience at a conference, the theme of negative associations with colleagues has emerged as an ongoing issue (see twitter discussion HERE and tweets below). Given this seemingly common issue, I teamed up with Dani Rabaiotti (@DaniRabaiotti) to share experiences and put together the following guide.
What’s the issue?
In a largely unscientific Twitter poll of 488 fellow academic tweeters, only 28% had never had a negative experience with conference criticism, whilst 40% had had a negative experience with criticism that was done respectfully (generally part of conference experience but can be tough!). However, nearly 1/3 of people polled had had negative experiences where others had been disrespectful, or had engaged in an ‘all-out war’ with an audience member.
Sadly, for us as authors, this was unsurprising. For example, Dani has been told she was wrong about her own study species because the questioner ‘had seen them hunting’ (anecdote vs data, anyone?), while Jeff has been publicly told that his work will do nothing for his career and may even hinder his progression. In addition, we have both witnessed some incredibly aggressive questioning styles at conferences. A wide variety of respondents to the Twitter poll also shared their experiences, many of which were, we think you’d agree, pretty awful:
This brings us onto a second issue – one that nearly all of us have experienced – the ‘this isn’t a question but a comment’ during conference QUESTION sessions. Of 387 people polled nearly 1/3 had experienced comment-not-questions lasting more than 5 minutes!
During the question period, if you need to preface your ‘question’ with, “This is more of a comment than a question, but…” and subsequently go on to add your thoughts about the work, save it for after! Likewise, if you know that your question is a lengthy one that will take up most of the question period, save it! Not only does this approach allow others to ask questions (providing the speaker with a broader degree of feedback), but it provides an opportunity for networking and discussion after the talk. This is a much better use of time and is a more productive way of providing commentary feedback to presenters (not to mention that it can facilitate collaborations and potentially enhance a field of research!).
Top tips for conference etiquette:
It appears that negative experiences with peers at conferences are quite common. These experiences can have lasting effects on the people involved, particularly for students and early career researchers. Such instances can be easily avoided by following some simple rules and avoiding conflict. Yet, while a quick google search of “behaviour/etiquette at academic conferences” provides a laundry list of tips for grad students and ECRs, little information is provided for senior researchers on how to engage appropriately with grad students and ECRs, nor on how to conduct oneself during question periods, etc. To facilitate this, we have compiled a few tips for ‘conference etiquette’, which can be found below (you can also find other tips here, here, and here, among others). We suggest that if a predominance of conference goers follow these guidelines the frequency negative conference experiences can be reduced and research efforts and quality can be enhanced.
Some conference Do’s and Don’ts:
Should you ask that question?:
During my undergraduate degree, I remember all too well the many times in which I would search for a journal article that I needed to write a paper, only to be stymied by my institution’s inability to afford a journal or publisher. Of course, Interlibrary Loans could help me get my hands on those papers eventually, but rarely was it sufficient. As a result, I ended up spending out-of-pocket for journal articles during a time in which personal finances were dismal.
This reality is commonplace for many students both near and far. For many Canadian undergraduates, access to journals has been dwindling. Particularly in developing nations, scholars-in-training have limited access to journals published by conglomerate publishers. Furthermore, expensive subscriptions to scholarly journals can deprive everyday citizens from becoming more scientifically literate. So, what are we to do?
Cue the open access movement.
Open access publishing – making access to published works free for readers – has recently been adopted by many academic journals in attempt to remove barriers to scholarly works. Open access publishing in academia typically comes in two forms: green and gold. While the ‘green’ option allows scholarly authors to openly share their work through different outlets (e.g. personal webpage, social media, etc.), the gold option provides readers with free access to an article directly from the publisher. This has resulted in the establishment of fully-open access journals (such as the brand new on from Canadian Science Publishing, FACETS), as well as hybrid journals (where the journal offers the option for authors to pay for their article to be open access) Nonetheless, by enforcing an open access method, barriers to accessing scholarly works begin to dwindle and readership can be increased.
While open access certainly seems like a great idea from the readers’ perspective, it comes at an expense to authors – literally. Currently, the cost of making a scholarly article is substantial, generally running authors more than USD $1000 per article. So, is there any benefit from the authors’ side of the coin? It turns out that there is!
The prestige and productivity of scholarly authors is often gauged on citations – when another scholar references the work of a scholarly author in a subsequent article. The more citations that an author gains on their publications, the better. So, for authors, increasing citations is a benefit to authors for increasing the impact of their work and for career development. Interestingly, one way that appears effective in increasing citations is publishing open access.
In a study recently published in FACETS, I was able to show that open access articles in hybrid marine science journals received more citations than articles that were closed access. For my study, I collected citation data from articles in 3 hybrid marine ecology journals with similar impact factors as a microcosm to test for open access effects on citations: ICES Journal of Marine Science (Oxford Press), Marine Ecology Progress Series (Inter-Research), and Marine Biology (Springer). I also controlled for a number of other factors that could potentially influence citation rates, including self-citations, article type, time since publication, the number of authors, and the year that the article was published. I found that open access articles received, on average, 57%, 38%, and 24% more citations than closed access articles in for ICES Journal of Marine Science, Marine Ecology Progress Series, & Marine Biology respectively.
Although the trend observed in my study could be driven by authors’ self-selection to publish only their best work open access, the results are in line with numerous other studies showing a citation advantage of open access articles. In addition, my study only focused on a narrow field of academia: marine science. However, these ‘microcosmic’ studies are important for highlighting the benefits of open access to authors that reside within a defined academic discipline, and more of them are certainly needed.
Ultimately, the consistently-documented citation advantage of open access for authors of scholarly works should motivate authors to publish open access and, in turn, increase the accessibility of scholarly works for students, researchers, and the public. However, the financial burden to doing so is still substantial. Given the documented benefits of open access publishing to both authors and readers, it’s about time that both authors and readers push for reduced costs to publish open access. Alleviating the financial burden to authors will help to stimulate open access publishing and will lead to more efficient scientific communication between scientists and with the public. Such a transition is crucial in an age where scientific literacy is increasingly needed.
It’s time to act now! It’s time to open-up.
If you would like to support the aid in Fort McMurray, you can donate to the Red Cross here, or by texting REDCROSS to 30333 ($5 donation per text message).
As the province of Alberta declares a state of emergency and tens of thousands of people are displaced, social media is abuzz with shock, sympathy, and support.
While scrolling through my Twitter feed yesterday, I decided to scour the #yymfire hashtag. At the top of the thread was a tweet from @Slate which linked to an article on their site published by @EricHolthaus. In a moment of weakness, I decided to take a gander at the online responses to the article. Almost every response to the tweet included commentary about the insensitivity of associating this disaster with political arguments about global climate change. The fire, the responses argued, is an inevitable result of conditions inherent to the location of Fort McMurray and would have resulted in the same devastation regardless of climate conditions, concluding that it is inappropriate and fallacious to place the extreme loss to the working class people in the region in the context of climate change. I can empathize with these responses – emotions are high and the laceration of this tragedy is fresh. However, knowing that climate science does, in fact, predict increased wildfire occurrence (that is, the event can be scientifically linked to climate change), I’m inclined to disagree with the majority of responses on Twitter.
At the same time, I came across Facebook posts from numerous friends linking to a post from a man in British Columbia (that has subsequently been deleted after going negatively viral) expressing his lack of sympathy and karmic association towards a tragic fire in a town that exemplifies the Canadian oil industry and the proliferation of climate change – of course this attitude is highly insensitive and inappropriate.
So is it okay to talk about this fire in the context of climate change when the area affected is so heavily scrutinized for being a major contributor to it? My short answer is undoubtedly yes.
While the proximate cause of this fire wasn’t climate change. Of course, climate change isn’t the proximate cause of any fire – usually it’s something like lightning or some a**hole who doesn’t listen to fire advisories. However, the functional reasons for the fire’s spread and destruction can be largely attributed to record-breaking, abnormally-high temperatures and humidity – and this is going to be something that we face more often in both the immediate and distant future. Stating that isn’t insensitive – it’s factual and it’s our reality. What is insensitive is stating that this tragedy is karmic and to lack sympathy for the people affected. I’d consider those that feel this way as environmental extremists (yes, like religion and politics, environmentalism has extremism too), and they need not be pandered to.
I have many close friends working in Fort McMurray that are impacted by the devastation, and although I firmly think climate change has played a large role in this event, I’d never wish this tragedy on anyone. But discussing and admitting to the factors contributing to these events is a necessary part of adapting and making sure they don’t happen again.
So I will continue to discuss this tragedy in the context of climate change, and feel that we should all be framing this tragedy in the context of climate change, because it is important to. Not only because more people need to be aware of what future climate change means for us as a species, but in order to prepare ourselves for the next event of this magnitude – because it is inevitably going to happen. Such a discussion doesn’t imply insensitivity, nor should it be treated as such.
It’s times like these that I wish I could do more than donate money, express sympathy, and educate people, but that is what I’ve got to offer. My heart goes out to those affected. In the words of everybody’s favorite Cape Bretoner, “best of luck to ya’”.
This afternoon I engaged in a Twitter conversation with some colleagues regarding the use of the term dreissenid in the context of “dreissenid mussels”. Colleague A wanted to know if dreissenid should be italicized. I assured her that it indeed does not, because Dreissenidae is a family of mussels containing 3 genera and is not a single genus (to which she obliged). Colleague B then questioned this and asked what to do if using the term when only referring to the genus Dreissena, whereby I suggested using a more specific term (i.e., Dreissena spp.). Colleague A then responded that she originally wanted to use the term to describe only the genus Dreissena, and that this was common practice. Then I got annoyed (again) at common names in general…
So which is it – does dreissenid refer to the family Dreissenidae or the genus Dreissena?
The answer is that it’s commonly used for both. Although many scientists may not care about or acknowledge this, the interchangeability of common names across different taxonomic resolutions can be problematic for a number of reasons.
Let’s first look at a relatively simple example. Say I published a paper on “dreissenid mussels” in the Journal of Crappy Nomenclature, and in the introduction made the claim that there are 16 species of dreissenid mussels. Without context, the reader has no idea as to whether there are 16 species within the family Dreissenidae or 16 species within the genus Dreissena unless they search this information themselves (there are 16 species in the family Dreissenidae; Figure 1).
Likewise, let’s say that in the same paper I was to claim that dreissenid mussels reside in supraterranean (above ground) freshwater systems. While that is true for the genus Dreissena, there exists a subterraneous genus of Dreissenidae (Congeria; resides solely in cave river systems). Again, without context, the reader would be left searching such information. Unfortunately, many readers would not recognize the need to search for this information and would likely apply the information obtained from the two statements outlined above in the context of how they interpret the term “dreissenid mussels”, which may be correct or incorrect depending on my definition of “dreissenid mussels”. Thus, in subsequent publications obtaining information from my hypothetical paper on dreissenid mussels, information may be incorrect, but nonetheless become “common knowledge”.
While the above examples may appear extreme, particularly for those who study these mussels, the points still stand – and for many more taxa than the example herein. Researchers conducting work on species new to them must learn as much about their new study species and related taxa as possible. In this way, using common names interchangeably across levels of taxonomic resolution can easily create problems for these researchers and the propagation of incorrect biological information may result. Furthermore, other problems with common names arise when even more generic terminology is used, like “cushion stars”.
Ultimately, there are two ways to solve the problems outlined above: either define the range of taxa (up front) that a common name being used encompasses, or stop using common names all together. If we are to follow the biological writing rules of Dr. Pechenik (i.e., more concise = better), scientific works would benefit from the elimination of common names (for example, “Dreissena spp.” consumes less space than “dreissenid mussels”, and the former would not require a formal definition). Not only does the use of precise taxonomic nomenclature reduce verbiage, but it would remove the potential for misinterpretation with respect to the breadth of biological processes across various levels of taxonomic resolution. That, and we would negate complex Twitter conversations regarding how to use common nomenclature and have more time to spend on writing our actual papers…
So, in conclusion, just stop using common names. They suck.
Dr. Arthur McDonald was recently crowned co-winner of the 2015 Nobel Prize in physics for his work with neutrinos at the SNO Lab in Sudbury, Ontario, helping to discover that neutrinos do indeed have mass. Dr. McDonald was born and raised in Sydney, NS and received his BSc and MSc degrees at Dalhousie University in Halifax. As a fellow Cape Bretoner, this story has affected me on a personal level (in a positive manner, of course), and so I thought I would share my thoughts about it here:
I first and foremost want to cordially congratulate you on receiving the Nobel Prize in Physics for your work with neutrinos. The award is an outstanding achievement for anyone, and for it to be awarded to a fellow Cape Bretoner is something that I am elated to proclaim.
Secondly, I wanted to reach out and let you know what the announcement meant for at least one fellow, Cape Breton-bred scientist. I’m currently pursuing my PhD in marine science, and although it is unrelated to particle physics and cosmology, I take an overarching pride in your accomplishments (as does the rest of the island and country). Being from Sydney, I’m sure you know how close-knit our communities are, and how we, as Cape Bretoners, tend to take pride in our island. That sentiment has and always will remain a part of my demeanor, and it is with that that I pen this letter.
Being an academically-minded person from an industrial-minded demography isn’t always an easy thing. While predominantly supportive, family, peers, and notable acquaintances often question the reasons for not settling down with a steady job and a family and are often quite critical of choices and sacrifices made. At times, the pressure from such beloved people that accompanies being a student and/or unemployed at 28 years of age can be overwhelming and stressful – indeed this is the case for many graduate students and early career scientists, and I have found myself at times questioning the very same things as a result. However, your leadership and hard work reiterate not only my reasons for doing what I do, but also reinforce my sheer love and passion for science, the unknown, and gaining a better understanding of the world. Your accomplishments highlight the fact – for me (and many others I’m sure) – that a small-town Cape Bretoner from a coal-mining family can succeed and thrive in the world of science and academia. Moreover, your success and contributions highlight the fact that Cape Bretoners are not preemptively destined for small-town life and a menial existence, but are capable of sheer greatness – something that I think many folks at “home” too often forget.
So from all Cape Bretoners, whether they know it or not, I want to extend our congratulations and gratitude for what you’ve accomplished for yourself personally, for small town Cape Breton, for the country of Canada, and for the world. Without your contributions, we would not be able understand the world in the way that we do, and that is a gift to humans and akin the world over. But as a Cape Bretoner, I want to thank you for making us proud, showing the world what we really have to offer, and instilling a drive for success and knowledge in a small-town kid with an appetite for the unknown.
With best regards,
Jeff C. Clements
At some point or another, you’ve probably read or heard the common headline:
“Climate change threatens ____________ (insert your favorite species).”
But once you’ve digested the doom-and-gloom story, have you ever wondered how we know how climate change impacts various marine species? What is it that scientists do that leads to such claims? Are these claims legitimate? How accurate are they?
When assessing the impacts of climate change on living organisms, most studies employ controlled experiments, where researchers can tinker with one or a number of relevant variables to mimic predicted future conditions and observe how organisms respond to these conditions. There are substantial problems with this approach, however. First, biological responses are typically assessed in the context of only one or two environmental stressors, while we know that a multitude of factors (e.g., temperature, acidification, eutrophication, hypoxia, salinity, etc.) will have independent and/or synergistic biological impacts. Second, over the duration of such experiments, conditions are often kept constant, mimicking average future conditions. Finally, studies typically assess species in isolation, which doesn’t adequately address the community and/or ecosystem consequences of climate change, nor how individual species will respond when residing in their natural habitats. Consequently, I argue that the biological effects of a changing climate are, at present, poorly understood.
The ways in which organisms respond to a given environmental stressor do not solely depend on that single stressor. The interactive effects of multiple environmental stressors can elicit drastically different biological responses. For example, it is increasingly recognized that food availability can modulate the magnitude of effect when assessing the biological impacts of climate change in the ocean, suggesting that, at least physiologically, many species can tolerate a warming and acidifying ocean as long as they have enough energy to do so. In a recent literature review of the behavioural impacts of ocean acidification (Clements & Hunt, in review), we found that 7/8 publications incorporating the independent and synergistic effects multiple environmental stressors (Table 1) in experiments derived different conclusions than when acidification was tested in isolation. Furthermore, the outcomes were all over the board, with additional stressors attenuating, amplifying, or not affecting the behavioural endpoint in question. The problem is that only 8/57 studies actually addressed the effects of multiple environmental stressors – a problem that transfers other biological responses to climate change as well.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that nature is far from stable. Growing up in the Maritime Provinces of Canada, I know that a look out the window from one moment to the next can yield drastically different weather observations. While the term “weather” applies to environmental phenomena over small temporal scales (hours, day, weeks, months, etc.), “climate” refers to the average of those weather conditions over long periods of time (years, decades, centuries, millennia, etc.). Since climate is a function of weather, understanding the impacts of climate change requires incorporating an understanding of the weather that derives the climate. The variability (i.e., the weather) around projected climatic means can modulate the amount of time that an organism experiences environmental conditions above or below a threshold whereby the organism is affected (Figure 1). Unfortunately, few studies take variability into consideration. In the same literature review mentioned above (Clements & Hunt, in review), only 1/57 studies took variability into consideration, reporting a negative effect of acidification + variability, while acidification alone elicited no effect. Furthermore, studies incorporating multiple environmental stressors and their associated variability are virtually non-existent. Ultimately, a strong understanding of how climate change influences biology requires embracing variability, not dismissing it – otherwise our understanding remains flawed.
Species interactions can also elicit different responses to climate change. For example, the presence of marine plants and their density/abundance within a given marine system can, to an extent, buffer oceanic pH and mitigate the impacts of ocean acidification to other organisms residing within that system. As such, understanding the impacts of climate change in terms of community- and ecosystem-wide consequences not only provides a broader understanding of the biological and ecological impacts of climate change, but can provide a more accurate understanding of how individual organisms will be impacted by shifting environmental conditions within their natural habitats.
So does this all mean that we shouldn’t worry about climate change? – ABSOLUTELY NOT! Climate change is currently, and will continue to be a huge problem for humans and a plethora of other organisms. However, I do think that the degree to which climate change will be a biological problem is poorly understood. On the bright side, scientists are beginning to recognize these shortcomings and are now working toward a better understanding of how climate change will affect marine organisms. Furthermore, not all studies simply employ highly controlled laboratory experiments; there is field evidence that provides sound information regarding the biological effects of climate change for some species. Ultimately, stamp collecting gets us nowhere – experimental approaches need to incorporate multiple shifting stressors and their associated variability, as well as numerous species (optimally mimicking communities or ecosystems) in order to adequately understand the biological implications of a changing climate. Until then, we will likely remain naive about the ways in which climate change will impact marine species.