Category: Skills

Prioritize building your portfolio of practices before building your portfolio of products for scientific discovery

Prioritize building your portfolio of practices before building your portfolio of products for scientific discovery

When is the last time you were “in the zone”, burning through a task with clarity?

When were you so focused that being self-conscious about things like “confidence”, “discipline”, or “rigor” would have felt silly?

You were just getting the task done. Not thinking about how to get it done.

Being able to get something done in science is driven by what I call our scientist’s repertoire.  The bigger our repertoire the more we can get done.

Our repertoire impacts every aspect of our personal discovery potential and our discovery process.  It’s what we use to navigate the science choices we make and the actions we take.

I see four themes that live in our internal repertoire or portfolio.

Mindset is how you think about your science and your actions.

Don’t dismiss this piece as just cheesy self-help mantras. There are some tough, core human challenges in this theme.  Like being hampered by your own expertise (called the Einstellung effect) and tending to prefer additive solutions that complicate rather than simplify results. You’re not stuck with your mindset. You can change how you think to fit the needs of your science.

Activities are the tasks you know how to complete to get science done.

These are the things they teach you how to do in school, trainings, work experience, crash courses, and professional development. You can even pick these up off YouTube and TikTok.  The basics for discovery? There are activities that let you communicate, synthesize, code, calculate, deconstruct, build, etc. Activities are the smallest unit of “know-how” that makes up your scientist’s repertoire. Our dynamic ability to learn means you can have hundreds of activities in your mental repertoire (or your digital one 😉 ).

Skills are the recipes you have for combining outcomes with actions.

Want to convince someone to give you money to pursue a discovery (outcome) through writing a pitch or proposal (action)? That’s a skill. Trying to create a systematic definition or metric (action) to pull insights (outcome) out of texts or terabytes of data? Also, a skill. You can learn and master skills through deliberate practice (the famous 10,000 hours rule).

Knowledge is what you know.

Knowledge is key for discovery because what you don’t know is exactly what you need to investigate. But to see your knowledge gaps you must be clear on your knowledge base.

When you have a solid plan, but still don’t make progress in your science it means you need to strengthen a weak part of your repertoire.

I am a university physics researcher (for now). So, when I started working on the science of scientific discovery my first thought was: “Publish a paper, win a grant, or the work won’t count.”  I was only worried about how my repertoire would appear on my resume.

That mindset got me two years of spinning my wheels and no meaningful progress.

Why?

Because what I needed was skills to make a discovery, not skills to write a paper about other people’s discoveries.

I’m still not there yet. But now, with the architecture of discovery I have built a mental framework for troubleshooting. I can figure out where I am in discovery process. And I can create targeted techniques to help me get unstuck when my science ideas dead end.

Those are skills I learned while researching the science of scientific discovery.  And I’ve added them to my repertoire.

The idea of a repertoire comes from music. A musician’s repertoire is the collection of songs, styles, and instruments they can play.

Like musicians, scientists also need a repertoire.

You need a bag of tricks and tools to pull from that contains your mastery of the art of scientific discovery.

Mindset, activities, skills, and knowledge are all part of our scientist’s repertoire. They are how we get science done.  They transform us from dreamers into discoverers.

Without them in our portfolio first, we have no way to add discoveries too.

Simply put, prioritize building your portfolio of practices before building your portfolio of products to create space for scientific discovery to happen.

 

Reflection Question

What practices have you neglected, or avoided adding, to your own science repertoire?

 

Related Links

 

On The Insightful Scientist (InSci) website

Blog (The Scientist’s Log)

Research (Research Spotlight)

How-To’s (The Scientist’s Repertoire)

Infographics (The Illustrated Scientist)

Printables (Spark Points)

Other blogs

Bulletproof Musician (performance psychology)

zen habits (achieving purpose)

Farnam Street (famous insights)

Around the web

 

How to cite this post

Bernadette K. Cogswell, “Prioritize building your portfolio of practices before building your portfolio of products for scientific discovery”, The Insightful Scientist Blog, September 25, 2020.

 

[Page feature photo:  Photo by Lorenzo Spoleti on Unsplash.]

To make a scientific discovery you need a plan not a map

To make a scientific discovery you need a plan not a map

If I told you there was a study that found what actions you take for the next 10 minutes determines whether or not you will make a scientific discovery in your life…how would you spend that time?

How does thinking about the impact of what your doing right now on your discovery potential make you feel? Guilty, curious, confused, even overwhelmed?

Unfortunately, no such study exists.  Instead, there are plenty of biographies analyzing how the Einstein’s of the world spent their time.

Don’t get me wrong.

Getting inspired by previous scientific discoveries and the stories behind them is wonderful motivation.

But it doesn’t tell you how to spend the next 10 minutes of your life to make your own discoveries. For that you need an action plan.

So let me share the scientific discovery framework that I’ve developed, which will give you a plan.  It’s helped me see how discovery gets done and it will help you too.

There are lots of parts to scientific discovery, but they all fit together in a logical whole.

In a series of posts, I’ll explain my framework for connecting those parts and how you can prioritize your efforts to get moving on making a discovery.

Links to other parts of the series are at the bottom of each post.

This first post lays out the big picture of scientific discovery. Get ready for an information download! Stick with it. Don’t worry if it feels like a lot. Shorter follow-up posts will guide you. Jump in and out of the series anywhere – the posts are all standalone. You can take it all in as you have time.

Let’s get to it.

I’ve identified six core areas that power scientific discovery:

1. Discovery repertoire. The personal portfolio of techniques that you use to get science done is your scientist’s repertoire. There are four sections to your internal portfolio: how you think about your science (mindset), what tasks you know how to complete to get science done (activities), the recipes you have for combining outcomes with actions (skills), and what you know (knowledge). When you have a solid plan, but still don’t make progress on your science it means you need to strengthen a weak part of your repertoire.

2. Discovery capacities.  Learning new things in science and technology is driven by four human capacities: innovation, invention, insight, and scientific discovery. Capacities get different results because they are driven by different motivations. Innovation motivates us to improve the way something works. Invention motivates us to build devices that will do something useful. Insight motivates us to change how we see the world. Scientific discovery motivates us to explain how the world works. Insight and scientific discovery are core capacities that build on each other.

3. Discovery vital qualities.  The difference between a scientific discovery and regular scientific research is that a new discovery-level scientific finding will have at least one of three vital qualities:  It will shift our perspective on the world (be radical), it will link knowledge to make a broader range of predictions about the world (be universal), and/or it will be new knowledge (be novel). Your work should have one of these qualities as an objective to aim for discovery-level science.

4. Discovery impact classes.  Scientific discovery intuitively feels more high impact than regular science. That impact lies on a continuum from low to high, determined by how many vital qualities a discovery captures. Minor class discoveries possess only one of the three vital qualities. Major class discoveries possess at least two and legacy class discoveries must have all three. Science spans from regular research to legacy class discoveries on an incremental spectrum defined by these qualities. So, start small and build up to the big discoveries.

5. Discovery learning categories.  Scientific discovery learns something new about the world. What you learn falls into three categories: something about an unknown object (object-type), something about the properties of an object (attribute-type), or something about how and why the world works the way it does (mechanism-type).  Some categories are easier to make discoveries in because the learning curve is smaller.

6. Discovery evolution phases.  Most scientific discoveries evolve through five phases, which I call the discovery cycle.  First, you ask an unanswered question (question).  Then you form ideas for an answer (ideation).  You make those ideas into tests in the real world (articulation). You run the tests and evaluate the results (evaluation). And if the results repeatedly prove true then they become a scientific discovery (verification).  Troubleshooting your scientific discovery progress is easier if you know what phase you are in because unique problems trip up scientists at each phase.

The framework I’ve developed lets you craft a scientific discovery action plan, troubleshoot your progress, and connect specific activities and techniques with the results you want to achieve.

The simplest starting point? Aim for a minor class, attribute-type discovery that is universal. That represents a baby step from current science to something new.  And if you hit an obstacle check your insight in a systematic way and seek out techniques to boost you from one phase of scientific discovery to the next.

No matter where you start, be inspired by the scientific discovery stories of others, but don’t stay stuck in them.  Discovery isn’t a sightseeing tour through known territory. It’s a push toward unknown territory.

Simply put, to make a scientific discovery you need a plan for how to tackle the unknown, not a map of the known.

 

Take Action

Once you’ve got a framework and a plan, spend the next 10 minutes taking action.  You’ll be 10 minutes closer to making your next discovery.

 

Related Links

 

On The Insightful Scientist (InSci) website

Blog (The Scientist’s Log)

Research (Research Spotlight)

How-To’s (The Scientist’s Repertoire)

Infographics (The Illustrated Scientist)

Printables (Spark Points)

Other blogs

Bulletproof Musician (performance psychology)

zen habits (achieving purpose)

Farnam Street (famous insights)

Around the web

 

How to cite this post

Bernadette K. Cogswell, “To make a scientific discovery you need a plan not a map”, The Insightful Scientist Blog, September 11, 2020.

 

[Page feature photo:  Photo by Torbjorn Sandbakk on Unsplash.]

Elements of the Scientist’s Repertoire: Skills

Elements of the Scientist’s Repertoire: Skills

On why skills give the most value of all the elements in a scientist’s repertoire.

 


This is the fourth and final post in a four-part series.  In an older post I defined “skills” as “procedures you use to channel caring into doing.”  You can view that post here.


 

After I finished my first college degree I thought I wanted to be a screenwriter.

Action movies and sci-fi were just the thing to house my imagination and love of reading.  Or so I thought.

I had just moved to a new state and had no idea where to start.  And I had just finished a degree in psychology, where I studied the interplay of children’s acculturation with how they cope with school stress.

Writing Likert-type surveys taught me nothing about how to write a three-part story or how to hit the emotional plot points in a “hero’s arc.”  And I couldn’t find a screenwriting class.  (I’m old enough that back then the internet didn’t provide these things ready made in a MOOC).

So I signed up for the cheapest writing class I could find at a local university, while working three part-time jobs to make ends meet.

The class was called “Introduction to Writing Microfiction.”

Microfiction is where you write a short story in a minimal number of words, usually a few hundred words or less.  I don’t remember a darn thing about how to write good microfiction after taking that class.  But I do remember the notebook the instructor taught us to keep.

She advised us to buy a notebook we loved and a pen or pencil to match.  On the cover we wrote the number of that notebook.  For me that was “No. 1”.  We earmarked the first 2 pages for a table of contents, to fill in as the notebook filled up.  And after that we wrote anything and everything in it.

Our writing instructor had us do timed assignments in class, written in our notebook.  I took class notes, in my notebook.  Then I started scribbling physics ideas in my notebook too. (I had started out college in physics, got discouraged, ran out of money for college, and finally switched to psychology to graduate early.  But physics still echoed in my heart.)

In the early years, and through my writing degree, I called my notebooks “No. #” and numbered them in a continuous chain.

I still keep notebooks to this day.  Though they’ve gone through name changes (for a while in my Ph.D. I called them “Research Notebook #” to fit in) they are still filled up using the same basic skill set I was taught in my microfiction writing class.

When I graduated my Ph.D. program and moved on to a postdoc, I felt a little more constrained by the academic paradigm and took to calling my notebooks “Spark #”.

Then I found out about Bullet Journaling (I use a loose hybrid version of it now) and took to calling them “BuJo #”.  But I always kept the same continuous numbering.  I’m on Bujo-38 right now.

This art of writing an assorted collection of things in a notebook is a skill, which I learned that day in my first microfiction lecture.  And it was probably the wisest investment I made of anything I spent my hard earned part-time job money on during that decade.

Keeping a notebook is skill, not just an activity.  And it illustrates my point for this last part of my series on necessary components of a scientist’s repertoire (especially when you passionately want to make a discovery):

Adding skills to your repertoire gives the best return on investment of any single element of your scientist’s repertoire.

 

From a first principles perspective:

Skills are invaluable in your scientist’s repertoire because they can be put to many uses.

 

In principle, my reasoning is simple: skills are generalizable elements of one’s scientific repertoire, plus they are often low tech, easy to acquire, and they have a broad application.

I may have learned the skill of keeping an “ideas notebook” in a writing class, but I went on to use it when working in physics and in nonproliferation policy.

(I’ve also used the skill of keeping a notebook for personal projects like moving, changing jobs, and adapting my lifestyle routines.)

It’s important to distinguish between activities and skills.

Activities are things like writing certain types of content in your research notebook (maybe free writing, keeping a log of experimental trials, or keeping a list of concepts or sources to look up).

But a skill is knowing how to keep a research notebook so that it achieves a certain purpose (such as filled with mindmaps, free writes, and sketchnotes to engender creative fusion of received ideas or filled with dates, steps, prototype sketches, and outcomes for patent applications).

Skills are a nice hybrid between activities and mindset: they are where thinking meets doing, but at a higher level than just activities.  As such, skills are invaluable in a scientist’s repertoire and skills ensure that the activities you undertake are focused and well-executed.

Practice one skill (like keeping a notebook), combined with the proper resources (e.g.,  paper, pen or pencil), and you can eventually put it to a hundred uses.

 

From an applied perspective:

Adding skills to your scientist’s repertoire requires practice and feedback.

 

So, being able to acquire skills, which can then be applied to broad range of problems, is a tremendous value added to your repertoire.

I think the best way to acquire skills is through a combination of received instruction (i.e., training and feedback from a more skilled individual) and practice to gain mastery over the small elements of a skill.

Of course, that’s not always possible.  Just look at scientific discovery.  Nearly all science training programs train you in how to conduct experiments, utilize math, and run analyses.  But none actually teaches a module specifically on how to combine all those ingredients (and some other things) to actually make a scientific discovery!

In cases where you know a skill is needed, but you can’t receive instruction then I think you have to do the best you can to instruct yourself.  The most important part of being self-taught is providing yourself ways and set times to give yourself feedback.  And you always, ALWAYS, need practice or you won’t gain a skill.

For example, let’s go back to the case of the research, or ideas, notebook I’ve been talking about.  If you don’t have someone to instruct you in how to create or use one, then you might try teaching yourself.

Set up a notebook (i.e., put in a spot for a table of contents or an index to track the content you add to the notebook, add page numbers, and add a notebook title), think about a few ways to use it, pick one way to try, and then test it out (for a minimum of 7 days and a maximum of 30 days, assuming daily use).

Most importantly, provide yourself regular feedback sessions on whether or not your notebook is generating the kinds of results you want.  Ask yourself questions and assess outcomes:

Are you coming up with ideas more frequently (e.g., daily instead of monthly or weekly)?

Are more of your ideas getting tested (e.g., are you generating and running quick tables of numbers, small experiments, or bits of code  to try the ideas out)?

Are you able to remember to perform certain tasks more regularly and more diligently after tracking them in a notebook (e.g., do you systematically track changes you make to every iteration of an experiment, piece of code, website, etc. when you are fine-tuning or checking the response)?

Check in with yourself to see if things are working or if they need to be adapted or practiced more.  I think the key part is to be aware of the process and to consciously monitor your process as you practice the skill.

Don’t just focus on the outcome of a skill, process is crucial too.  Process is the piece that is generalizable, even more so than the outcome.  You want to learn how to add numbers, not just learn how to add 2+3 and 6+8.

Skills can be hard work to acquire.  As I said, skills are gained through practice—practice, practice, practice, and more practice eventually adds them to your repertoire.

Practice takes skills from “things you have to think about” to “things you do automatically” and ensures that you perform consistently, and with precision, every time you execute the skill.

But skills, once the basics are learned, can be fine-tuned, and used frequently to improve them.  Plus, you can always gain more finesse in a skill by seeking feedback from a more practiced expert.

Lastly, skills are not a one-off that you acquire when you are young, or in school, or a training program, and then don’t have to worry about anymore.  We’re striving to be  insightful scientists, not lazy scientists.  Whether we are early-, mid-, or late-career, we should be adding skills to our repertoire.  Discoveries won’t come looking for you, you go looking for them.  And you better care enough to have the skills to do it at any age and stage.

 

By analogy:

Skills are like language; you can do more with it than you can without it.

 

The analogy I think of for the role of skills in the scientist’s repertoire is the following:

Language skills let you say, orchestrate, or participate in events, beyond just grammar and vocabulary.

Learning vocabulary and grammar are language activities.  But speaking, reading, and writing are language skills that pay you back a thousand fold.  They can be put to almost any use.

Skills in the scientist’s repertoire are just the same.  The value of skills in your scientist’s repertoire cannot be overstated, only underestimated.

 

From a holistic perspective:

You can synchronize or learn from others with companion skills.

 

I’ve talked a lot in the previous three posts about making use of teams or communities, a body of people with diverse repertoires working in harmony, when I mention the holistic perspective relative to the scientist’s repertoire.

Again, it’s all true here, but with a nice added dimension.  I call them “companion skills.”

Maybe you are excellent at generating and manipulating mental ideas quickly.  But you struggle to articulate them into testable form.  Someone else might have the perfect companion skills: they are able to build mock-ups, generate quick-and-dirty code, or do back-of-the-envelope calculations in their sleep.

In fact, some discoveries have relied on this kind of companion skills team (Einstein’s work with his mathematician friend Marcel Grossman to produce general relativity is a famous example).

Working with someone who has a companion skill is a chance to move discovery along at a faster pace.

But it is also a chance to watch the skill in action and to learn by observation.

Interestingly enough, we learn better from watching the mistakes of others than from making our own mistakes.  So even if your skills companion gets it wrong, it will be a valuable opportunity to become a more skilled discoverer yourself.

Usually when we think about “skills” in science we think about math.  Or maybe statistics, or writing code, or using special high-tech hardware.

But more subtle skills are key too.  The ability to use conceptual or structural analogies is a good example.  And the ability to generate and manipulate mental models is another subtle skill.

We should take every opportunity we get to strengthen our repertoires, across all four themes (activities, mindset, knowledge, and skills).

But if there “aren’t enough hours in the day” then I think skills are the most fruitful place to start.

The more skilled you become, the more conversant you will be in the art of discovery.

 

Interesting Stuff Related to This Post

 

  1. com. “Micr-O Fiction: 8 Provocative Writers Tell Us a Story in 300 Words or Less.” O, The Oprah Magazine, July 2006 issue, http://www.oprah.com/omagazine/micro-fiction-short-stories-from-famous-writers.
  2. “Einstein’s Zurich Notebook.” https://www.pitt.edu/~jdnorton/Goodies/Zurich_Notebook/.
  3. “Darwin Online: Darwin’s Notebooks on Geology, Transmutation, Metaphysical Enquiries and Reading Lists.” http://darwin-online.org.uk/EditorialIntroductions/vanWyhe_notebooks.html.
  4. Noa Kageyama. “How Do Fear, Anxiety, and Other Negative Emotions Affect the Learning Process?,” The Bulletproof Musician Blog.  https://bulletproofmusician.com/how-do-fear-anxiety-and-other-negative-emotions-affect-the-learning-process/.

 

 

Related Content on The Insightful Scientist:

 

Blog Posts

 

How To Posts

 

Research Spotlight Posts

 

How to cite this post in a reference list:

 

Bernadette K. Cogswell, “Elements of the Scientist’s Repertoire, Part 4 of 4: Skills – On why skills give the most value of all the elements in a scientist’s repertoire, The Insightful Scientist Blog, December 27, 2019, https://insightfulscientist.com/blog/2019/elements-of-the-scientists-repertoire-part-4-of-4-skills.

 

[Page feature photo:  A student artfully displays books to photograph during her roadtrip. Photo by Clarissa Watson on Unsplash.]

Spring and Well

Spring and Well

On the website, I focus on how to foster your individual ability to make scientific discoveries.  It’s your individual contribution that’s emphasized, even if you work as part of a team, group, or formal collaboration.  If you’ve read many of my posts, you will know that I have so far divided aspects of an individual’s discovery ability into four major themes (which I use as tags to categorize The Scientist’s Log blog posts): activities, knowledge, mindset, and skills.

Let me take an opportunity in this post to clarify how I define these themes, how I think they support scientific discovery, and, most importantly, tell you which one I think every discoverer should focus on and why.

 

Knowledge is recognizing what you don’t know

 

This may sound counterintuitive, but, when you’re pursuing scientific discovery, obtaining a good stockpile of knowledge is really about recognizing all the things you don’t know.

Let’s do a little experiment:

Below I’ve listed three questions.  Read them over and then decide which question you think is most likely to lead to a breakthrough scientific discovery in the next 5 years:

 

  1. Why and how to mice sing?
  2. How do neutrino particles acquire mass?
  3. Where did Amelia Earhart’s plane crash on her final flight?

 

Do you have a guess?  Okay.  Now stop and think about how you even began to tackle picking a question.  Did you have to stop and try to define words for yourself, like what does she mean by “sing”, or what is a “neutrino”?  Did you try and do a web search to read a few quick headlines from search results to see if any of the questions was a decoy, i.e., it has already been answered? (Did it even occur to you that I might include a trick question?)  And in trying to pick a question, were you struck by how you knew little or nothing about some or all of the topics behind the questions (biology and zoology for question 1; particle physics and mathematics for question 2; history, oceanography and aviation in question 3)?

All right.  Now, suppose I give you a different set of three questions and ask you to again decide which question you think is most likely to lead to a breakthrough scientific discovery in the next 5 years:

 

  1. What’s the most efficient way to butter toast?
  2. How can we teach self-driving cars to avoid hitting pedestrians?
  3. Why are bee colonies vanishing at an accelerated rate?

 

Did you have a totally different reaction to this set of questions?  I’m willing to bet money you feel more comfortable with your response to this second set than you did with the first set.  Why?  Because most of us are much more knowledgeable about the second set of topics than the first set.  We have some of the necessary knowledge to help us make an assessment.  Whereas, in the first set of questions, we don’t know enough facts to begin to guess.

It’s not knowing the facts that’s important.  It’s knowing enough to know the limits of what the facts are and what they can tell you that counts.  Discovery is all about finding out something new.  That means discovery starts where the facts fizzle out.

So that’s why I emphasize knowledge as a key theme in productive scientific discovery efforts.  Knowledge is your perception and awareness of observations and facts about the world around you.  You have to know enough to recognize what you still don’t know; and you have to know enough to realize that the gaps in what you know matters to more people than just you.

 

Mindset is caring enough to find out what you don’t know

 

Of course recognizing that something important is unknown isn’t enough by itself.  We’ve all had conversations in our down time when we come up with brilliant questions, ideas, or inventions while talking or joking around with friends or family over a coffee or a beer.  But when the conversation ends, so does our interest in following up on that spark of insight.

And these sparks are also often inspired by suddenly commiserating on how the facts or inventions have failed to help make our lives or day better or easier at some key moment.

But if, when we reach that moment of recognition, we just stop at commiserating (when we’re with others) or musing (when we’re alone), then discovery would never happen.  That spark has to light an intense caring inside you; a desire to fill that gap or invent that bridge between where the world is and where you would like the world to be.

That’s why mindset is another core theme for scientific discovery.  Mindset is the intention you hold inside about what to do with your knowledge.  Your intention has to be to pursue discovery.  Discovery won’t pursue you.  Without the right mindset even if you happen to find yourself in a discovery moment you might pass it by without realizing it, or worse, think it’s too much hassle to follow-up on.

 

Skills are procedures you use to channel caring into doing

 

“Discovery awaits the mind that pursues it,” as the saying goes here at The Insightful Scientist.  “Pursue” is a big, wide-open word.  It’s a word that is made into something concrete through skills.

Skills are what you do to put your mindset into practice.  For example, if you value adapting ideas from one field to another then you read widely in different fields; or if you believe that trying it out as soon as possible to get real time feedback is key, then you will become adept at building prototypes or toy models.

I always think of skills as a carefully choreographed sequence of things you do with your body and mind in order to achieve some outcome.  The example that always comes to mind for me is actually skill I never perfected, fishing.

My ever patient grandfather, who loved to fish and did so constantly after he retired, tried very hard to pass the skill on to me starting when I was young.  He bought me my first fishing pole as a gift when I was around 4 years old.  It was a tiny, little kid’s special pole, white and pink.  I thought it was awesome, although I wasn’t too sure about the scary sharp looking hook.

The first time I tried to cast the line by myself, after a suitable instruction session from my grandpa, I swung the pole back and then forward hearing the reel make a gravelly unwinding sound.  I started to try and tighten the line when I heard my grandfather say in a very calm but firm tone, “Looky here Bern, stop what you’re doing.  Don’t move.  Now turn around real slow.  And don’t jerk the line.”

I was always the kind of little kid who was a goody two shoes, so I followed instructions, and turned around slowly.

It turns out I had embedded my hook in my grandfather’s head when I had swung it back to cast it.

Now I would like to say that this story ends well and that I became more skilled as I grew up and spent vacations with my grandpa.  Not so much.  I did learn not to hook people on the back swing.  But instead I developed a knack for catching anything but edible fish on my line, losing the hooks, or having to cut the line (and once almost losing the fishing pole when a fish took the bait and nearly jerked it out of my hands).

I caught baby sharks, by accident.  I caught sting rays, by accident.  I caught pufferfish, by accident.  I was supposed to be catching catfish and flounder and other things my grandpa would cook up in a bountiful fish fry.  But I never got the skill right; I never moved my bait just so, with the right pacing of movements and flicks of the wrist.  My fishing was like someone breaking dancing badly in the middle of a slow waltz.  My choreography was just all wrong.

So that’s skills.  Skills are being able to coordinate your mental focus and physical movements to choreograph a sequence of actions that earn you your desired result.  Without scientific discovery skills you can’t infuse your intention with action.  Nothing will get done, nothing will get discovered.

 

Activities are tasks you complete to finish skilled procedures

 

Of course skills are complicated.  Like I said, they are a little like choreography and emphasize moving through a whole sequence.  They are a whole chain of actions and thoughts moving together toward a desired outcome.  But it’s impossible to learn or master, let alone perfect, such a complicated procedure without breaking it down into small, doable tasks.

Those tasks are what I have called activities.  Activities are the ten to twenty minute bursts of really focused intention and action that you take to accomplish one thing small thing.  The key is, activities focus on the one small thing, while skills try to pull off the whole big project.

In traditional science education we teach a set of skills related to scientific discovery, such as using statistics, handling scientific equipment, solving math problems, and scripting code.  In traditional science practice we learn a few more skills related to scientific discovery, such as how to critique methodology, writing presentations, pitching ideas for funding, and supervising others to carry out assigned activities.

We usually refer to these as hard skills (i.e., technical skills training) and soft skills (i.e., professional skills training).

But somewhere in there, if part of our goal is to make a scientific discovery, has to be some room for discovery-centric activities.  How do you type-up a one year discovery roadmap?  What sections and topics do you need to create and maintain in a discovery researcher’s notebook?  When you read about the top ten scientific discoveries in a given year, what information about how they were achieved do you need to jot down and follow-up on in order to acquire new skills, new knowledge, and more mindset hacks?

These are all activities.  Activities are where we live the day-to-day of our jobs and lives.  So it’s no surprise that activities are also where our discovery paths lie waiting.

 

Skills are the bridge between a Dreamer and a Discoverer

 

So which of these themes—knowledge, mindset, skills, and activities—do I think is the most important for scientific discovery?  In other words, if you are short on time or the stakes are high then which theme should you hold on to while you let go of the others?

My personal choice would be skills.  Skills are the balance point between the big picture and the details.  By focusing on skills you keep both in sight.  And skills are the point at which discovery stops being a noun and starts being a verb.

I think you should go after skills first because they will carry you the farthest toward your goal.  There’s an interesting idea currently popular among the life hacking crowd that you should pursue a 1% change every day in order to see significant improvement over the course of time, rather than trying to improve by, say, 30% all at once.  The idea is that the 1% changes are easier to stick with, but just as valuable if you actually stick to doing them consistently.  In contrast, sometimes if we make the 30% change we fall off the wagon too quickly and the benefits don’t stick.

So if you’re looking for your 1% on scientific discovery, I would say go after skills.  Try to define discovery-centric skills.  Try to model discovery-centric skills.  Try to practice discovery-centric skills.  Even if it’s just for 1% of your day (and if you work for a typical 8 hours a day, that’s only a whopping 4.8 minutes of your time).

Of course. You don’t want to neglect the other themes in the long run, but I think you’re best bet of seeing meaningful improvement will come if you invest your time in your discovery skills.

I’m developing a vision for The Scientist’s Repertoire (previously called How-to Articles, and before that The Physicist’s Repertoire) to help you and I focus on this crucial skills component.  Because skills are like both spring water and a water well for scientific discovery: they are a spontaneous, natural source of fresh new energy and a man-made reserve of  fluid resources.  Emphasizing skills can give us a wellspring of ability to power our pursuit of discovery.

 

Interesting Stuff Related to This Post

 

  1. James Clear, “Marginal Gains: This Coach Improved Every Tiny Thing by 1% and Here’s What Happened,” online article at jamesclear.com, excerpted from his book Atomic Habits, https://jamesclear.com/marginal-gains.
  2. Ranker’s crowd-sourced list “The Greatest Scientific Breakthroughs of 2018,” https://www.ranker.com/list/scientific-breakthroughs-of-2018/ranker-science.

 

Related Content on The Insightful Scientist

 

Blog Posts:

 

 

How to cite this post in a reference list:

 

Bernadette K. Cogswell, “Spring and Well”, The Insightful Scientist Blog, August 27, 2019, https://insightfulscientist.com/blog/2019/spring-and-well.

 

[Page feature photoRadium Springs in Albany, Georgia in the United States.  Photo by Timothy L Brock on Unsplash.]