the mental struggles of a PhD student

I am an inorganic chemist. I use solid state Nuclear Magnetic Resonance (NMR) spectroscopy and Extended X-ray Absorption Fine Structure (EXAFS) to study ... well, basically to study dirt.

While "chemist" is my chosen profession that I know and love, I have always struggled with gauging where I should be, intellectually speaking. The problem with striving to be an expert it something is that you are likely surrounded by other people striving to be experts in their own little interests, and they somehow always manage to seem far more expert than you. At least, this is how my experience has been.

When I finished undergrad, I felt a sense of having missed that expected culmination of my great intellect. Graduation felt more like attaining a certain amount of points to get to the next level in Tetris. Ok, college is a bit more complicated than video game, but admittedly, only the highly skilled make it to the end of the entire game. But basically, at some point along the way in undergrad, I was handed a degree and declared knowledgeable in my chosen field of study, and that point had nothing to do with my corresponding level of confidence in my expertise.

So, on to grad school. I figured HERE is where I will gain my great knowledge and, along with it, an awareness of how vast that knowledge has become... and THUS, I would solve important world problems.

My first year... Mostly hopeful. HUGE expectations of fixing world problems with one fell swoop of my resulting PhD super smart influence. Global warming? GONE! Energy crisis? GONE! Pollution woes? GONE!!

... etc, etc ...

My second year... Mostly fear. Comparing myself to all these REALLY smart people from great schools in my grad year, all the more advanced grad students who seem like they know more than I could ever possibly fit into my head, and professors whose intelligence and high ranked achievements can only be explained if I believed they were actually part robot.

My third and fourth year? Good question... a fuzzy sense of the passage of time blurred by monotony of labwork and the realization there is much to do if one ever wants to exit grad school and enter the real world again.

And now in my fifth year. I guess fear again. I have realized that I don't feel much different from when I started, despite the fact that rationally I know I have learned many things since starting here. But I am also more acutely aware of the things I don't know and that has only served to engender insecurity in my abilities as a professional. I have also established many Plan B's, the latest being opening a bagel shop far far away from here. This is not entirely helpful for someone looking to graduate soon and find a job.

However, in spite of all the fifth year fears, there is reassurance from various postdocs who speak candidly about their experience. That, even in their postdoctoral work, they feel the same as when they were grad students, worried about not knowing enough about anything.

Whew! Well at least I am not the only one...

But it does beg the question, how does one know they are doing the right thing with their life if there is no sense of mastery in their chosen profession? I know with even the greats like my adviser (for which I acknowledge I will never be the mastermind scientist that she is) that they must constantly read the latest and greatest articles published in hundreds of scientific journals out there. These top-dog scientists are always perusing abstracts and seem to have a mental filing system in which important and relevant articles are stored away, only to be plucked from their brains mid discussion, producing a sense of inadequacy that you cannot do the same. It doesn't just come to them like a heavenly calling (at least, I think). They work for it. They are good at it, REALLY good... but they work for it, for sure. And I have come to believe that even the greats feel some level of inadequacy, comparing themselves to their peers, their intellectual equals. There really is no point, especially in science, at which one says, "There! I have learned it all. There is no one out there who knows more than I do!"

Then, I ask, to be one of these big wigs of science, where do they find time? I devote time in my life to a number of things such as sleep, cooking, cleaning, tv and general brain zoning out time... but these people... these role models I have... they all seem to be science, science, science, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

Perhaps if I were to strive to be "one of the greats" I could do just that. I believe that the potential is there somewhere in me. I would devote my entire life to keeping up to date on all aspects of various fields that might tie in to my work so that I could keep a constant stream of collaborations and ideas and grant proposals supporting and funding the work I choose to do.

But I think my choices up to this point have already shown me that this is not the life for me. I have hobbies that I enjoy (I LOVE yoga and biking) and my brain needs to vegetate in front of the tv every so often. I'm married and I want to spend quality time with my husband... one day I'd like to have kids. When I meet to discuss my work with my adviser in her office, I notice her sad little neglected cactus plant slowly dying, unnoticed by the window... I want to be able to keep plants and pets and children alive.

And this debate that goes on in my mind as I round the corner into the second half of my fifth year, it all feels a bit like I am trying to convince myself to settle. What happened to all those big plans to fix the entire world? Not feeling smart enough is not a good excuse - I should just apply myself more like my adviser does, thus ending global warming, the energy crisis and pollution problems, etc etc....

But I think the more accurate perspective is that life happens. Priorities shift over time and a more realistic view of what one's life must be in order to include what is important to feeling content. Big problems like global warming and energy crises don't have simple solutions that can be outlined by one person's research. Certainly the "greats" can make huge and important strides in helpful innovations, but these are issues that must be attacked on many scientific and political fronts. And, importantly, one can still contribute significantly to these causes without it consuming all other aspects of life.

I've decided the best I can do is graduate and pick a job as a postdoc in something that seems interesting and worthwhile. Maybe it will turn out that that is not for me. I might have to make a second attempt at another postdoc in something different. And maybe in the end, I will even decide that research is not for me. Perhaps my contribution to these causes will be teaching and inspiring a new generation of hopeful scientists to find new and inventive ways to attacking these issues.

In the end, I have to be content in the fact that I do know something after all this, and it is enough to find a career in my life that I find fulfilling.