Know When To Quit

Hey There,

I am back from vacation and I feel somewhat rested. I could use some more time, but I have started a new job. It is kind of a big switch for me so I might update this newsletter a bit less frequently till I am sure I have a good handle on the day to day responsibilities. The thing about new jobs is you are usually ending something to start something new.

I know there is this great big thing called the Great Resignation going on, but I think it is more like the Great Reshuffle. People I know are getting new jobs, sometimes more than one job, and are just generally trying to live their best lives. This might mean moving away from a high cost of living (HCOL) area, going to a competitor, switching fields, or striking out on your own. I have had former co-workers who have quit for a new job—and then did it again. If any sort of maxim is true it is that the only constant is change, but how do you know it is time to quit and get that next role?

For me, as an early career scientist, it is about learning and growth. I think one of the reasons graduate school was fun (it was also stressful) was that I spent a lot of time learning. The time it took me to do the research for a paper to publication went from just over a year to a few months. I would conceive of new or understudied thermosetting polymers, execute on the idea, and publish. It went from being difficult to simple. If you are in your early career and things are easy for you, but you want to keep growing it’s likely time to move on to the next experience unless you want to be a true expert.

Knowing a specialty in which you want to be an expert early on can be beneficial, but it might be a little dangerous. If for instance you decided you wanted to be an expert around enzymatic catalysis or CRISPR right now I’d consider that to be a good idea, but if you wanted to be an expert on thermosetting polymers I’d tell you to think of some back-up plans. Expertise in an area that is already somewhat fully realized (e.g. thermosets) in a commercial aspect means that its going to be somewhat challenging to hit that steep learning curve and that your income might be truly capped as a scientist. Once you are an expert it can be hard to transition away to a different field.

As an early career scientist I think it is best to try a bunch of different things until you think, “I could do this happily at this compensation for the next 20 years.” Maybe this happens early on in your career (congratulations), but for many of us I think a combination of location, learning opportunities, and the needs and wants of our partner (if you are lucky enough to find one) tend to carry us around to a variety of different professional experiences. I view this sampling of experiences every 2-3 years as a benefit.

I believe there is a psychological tax that we pay whenever we quit one role for another. I tend to carry some anxiety leading into the new role that plays on repeat within my own head:

What if I’ve just been lucky this whole time? Maybe this is the role where people will find out that the past 10-12 years of my career I’ve just gotten wildly lucky. My success isn’t due to my abilities, but rather due to forces outside of my control. I need to work incredibly hard just to catch up to my peers in this new organization. I need to figure out the prescribed hierarchy and the true hierarchy. I need to build social capital with my coworkers immediately. I need to gain their trust. I hope I don’t suck at this. Should I have just stayed where I was comfortable?

For me, running through this dialog every 2-3 years is incredibly difficult and mentally draining for the first six months. When this publishes I will also have started in a new role myself so that internal dialog will be actively playing in my head. Actually, it has already started. I might publish a bit less regularly because of it.

Some of you reached out when I was writing about burn out before I went on vacation. I don’t think I’m burned out or maybe I was approaching it in my old role, but once again I think it’s valuable to see recognize some of the signs, root causes, and then try and organize your life around not burning out. This book and article from Anne Helen Peterson might help you figure it out for yourself. For me, it was a combination of broken business processes, a sense of precarity in my role, and a lack of coworkers able to handle the workload. I am hoping this new role is one where I can stay for a long time and get a chance to learn. I’d like to be “from somewhere” and I hope this is it!

I am approaching the end of my early career, which I define as 15 years post undergraduate degree, and I’m going to have to figure out what it means to be a mid-career scientist. I’m hoping in the next year or two I will really understand what it means to be an early career scientist so I can write a book proposal and send it off to a few publishers.

If you were an early subscriber to this newsletter you might know exactly who I am. If you are new here it might be hard to figure out and this is by design. I never actually thought I’d make it this long writing this newsletter or that I’d be reaching as many people as I am, but I am attempting to step back into being somewhat anonymous. It feels somewhat safer even though I will be writing as if everyone I know reads every thing I write and judges who I am on my writing. It’s a nice way to be held accountable. There is a fine line of being a crazy person in your basement writing on the internet in your underwear and a respectable writer.

Thanks for being here,

Tony