Chateaubriand Fellowship: Get your PhD in France

Just a quick post to advertise that the French Consulate has a funding program (Chateaubriand Fellowship) to bring American PhD Students to French research institutions to encourage international collaborations and exposure. STEM Applications due January 31, 2014. As an alumna, I highly recommend it. It's a good deal for both the student and the host lab. Spread the word.

There are two separate programs for STEM vs. Humanities:

Not so much leaving the US, More going someplace specific.

While deciding whether or not putting this website together was redundant, I did what any logical researcher would do: I googled it.

"American scientist in France", "Expat academic France", and other such keywords.

I came across very few that were relevant to what I had in mind (although the French consulate in the US has some great resources, there are organizations helping to expand our horizons by recruiting professors to developing nations, and a few spattered stories about academic life beyond anglophone cultures, such as this one in The Guardian).

The Innovation Economy

What I did find, however, were some recent articles discussing - essentially - the so-called 'brain drain' of American scientists "considering moving overseas" due to "funding woes" in the US, pointing out congress' Sequestration disaster in particular. These articles (one in Huffington Post and another in Forbes) warn of the consequences of the US' "increasingly anti-science behaviors" and the steady trend of ever-decreasing domestic funding opportunities, as our top minds consider seeking a more productive environment abroad, "taking the innovation economy with them".

French Researchers demonstrate: "We just want to work"

These articles are based a report (Unlimited Potential, Vanishing Opportunity, which appears to have vanished from the web in the past week) of an online survey of 3700 scientists, and the only thing more damning than the factual content they entered was their opinions. Of the scientists surveyed, 85% believed that the cuts to research have made it possible for global competitors to catch up in "the race to discovery". As David Ng, one of the readers of the Forbes article commented, "Yup. I’m from Singapore and I know a couple government administrators who were laughing their heads off when the Bush administration bowed their heads to religious pressure and starved stem cell research of funding. They made it all too easy to poach qualified scientists from the US of A."


Economies that do not invest in education and research are economies in crisis mode, not economies with a future. Creative research drives innovation, and that cannot generally happen in a system dependent on consumer profits and relatively quick turnaround on investments. And if you don't teach your kids about the wheel, their major life accomplishment will likely be re-inventing it.

American Narcissism

Whether it's an innate feeling of superiority or national pride, a sense of entitlement to respect earned from past achievements, or the misconception that English is the language of science because we are the center of its focus, these articles imply the sort of American narcissism that you might hear spoken in the U.S. news media: "...and this is why America is slipping behind in being 'the greatest country on the planet'."

This attitude invokes the erroneous image that science is confined by national borders. As if there are no other reasons for American scientists to seek employment beyond "the land of opportunity".

"A visit to a well-regarded and well-funded lab in a foreign country, however, can easily demonstrate that the “mainstream” flows beyond the borders of the United States." - Amy Gladfelter (Cell Biol Educ 2002)

For those of you who aren't scientists, or those few scientists who don't have international colleagues, I have a newsflash: many of the great minds at the forefront of their respective disciplines speak English as a second, third, or fourth language, and may publish their work on either end of a two-hour lunch or amid the interruptions of civil conflict.

When I made the decision to move to France, I was making an academic decision. This was where the scientists I wanted to work with were based, and also where I would have greater access to my study system in the Alps. It just made sense.

In a 2002 article titled 'A lab with a view: American Postdocs Abroad', Amy Gladfelter gave her perspective about the issues surrounding why Americans are actually less inclined to go abroad for postdoctoral study than they were several decades ago. Some of those reasons include the idea that the job market is too competitive to essentially take time out to work abroad, or simple fears of language barriers and other common risks of venturing out of one's comfort zone.

It could be that my high school class theme was "A World Without Borders" (I went to a magnet (read: nerd) school, which is now 14th in the nation -shameless plug!), or that I work with pathogens and parasites that typically don't care about politics, but it really irked me that the idea of American scientists going abroad for work is likened to abandoning a sinking ship. I get that it takes this kind of rhetoric to sway public opinion, but surely there are other ways to express the problems created by the shrinking of research funds.

The CDD Problem

As bad as the funding situation may seem in the US, these articles also fail to put it in perspective.

If anything human is more globally interconnected than the scientific community, it's the economy. With maybe the exception of a few countries who were relatively buffered from the financial crisis of 2008 (such as Australia), researchers seeking funding opportunities by exercising the liberties of a US passport are not likely to find their mecca with any more success than if they had stayed put.

Funding is tight almost everywhere you look. The financial crisis in Europe had such an impact that many Spanish academics must go abroad to find work, and the position of "Researcher" no longer even exists in Italy. Don't quote me on this, but I have heard that 25% of those funded by the French National Science Organisation (CNRS) are Italian nationals. And that is not because it's easy to get funding. With only a slightly higher funding rate than in the US, the French equivalent to NSF grants (ANRs) are few and far between. Also, they are available only to those who already hold a permanent position.

Illustration modified from Libération 5 Oct 2012

And now there is a new problem. A recent law passed by the French government requires that any government employee on a short term contract (Contrat à Durée Déterminée (CDD), which includes most post-docs) must be offered a permanent position after 6 years.

Wait, why is that a problem???

Well, the problem is two-fold. And here's why. Most research projects operate on a short contract: a grant is given to fund a project, that generally has a beginning and an end defined in the proposal. Extensions are not generally given without the researchers submitting a new proposal with some new angle or direction presented to justify the continued funding. In order to get the work done, short-term contracts are given for the duration of the project (usually 1-3 years), and these positions are filled by both post-doctoral researchers as well as technicians.

Problem 1: "800 CDD, 800 Unemployed." For post-docs, temporary contract (CDD) is a logical step on the way towards full-time permanent employment. A chance to prove and improve your skills. However, some people end up staying in this position for longer than others, and sometimes this extends into the double-digits. But as long as there is funding, there is such employment. And the longer you do it, the better you get. So if that perfect permanent position just hasn't yet come up, you have options. And in France, there are few options outside of these, since most private companies or even public school systems only hire those who have trained for those positions since high school. A PhD means very little outside of the academic (or agricultural/museum) community. So, now, that option is no longer available. After 3-4 years of post-doc (employers don't want to risk getting too close to that 6-year mark!), no matter how integral you are to the project or how much money there is sitting there, which you maybe even helped secure, to do the work, your contract is no longer renewed. And it's cumulative - you can't just move to another institution. And the chances of getting a position once you are "out of academia" become infinitely smaller.

Problem 2: Researchers are now forced to hire unexperienced first-year post-docs to replace those who have been managing entire platforms and projects for years. For technicians, whose services are usually shared and paid for via multiple grants pieced together from within the same laboratory, those positions and the expertise that comes with them are now in jeopardy. Sure, maybe they should have a more concrete job security. But it's just not how the system is set up. Job security is no doubt a big problem, but this is not the solution. All this does is interrupt -and in some cases, terminates- funded work.

Now, given there's no way this can be good for the science, and given the steady flow of demonstrations outside the main CNRS headquarters here in Montpellier, something has too give soon. So don't let this deter you. Just be aware that the science funding crisis is by no means something unique to the U.S..

Just outside CNRS headquarters in Montpellier. "800 CDD, 800 Unemployed"

Next post: The Prefecture a.k.a. The House that Drives you Mad.

Lab Culture

This post will also appear in fellow scientist and blogger Carolyn Beans' Roadside Science, where you can find more perspectives and information on other interesting topics.

How do you say “science” in French?

Um... “science.” But with an accent.

After graduating from the UVA Biology department a little over a year ago, I landed a post-doc position in Montpellier, France – home to one of the most lively research communities in Europe. Particularly for studying ecology and evolution, this is the place to be. Yes, yes, there is also the wine and the bread, and here in the south, the Mediterranean. But there’s more to changing continents than a new diet, phone number, and weekend destination list. In general, there’s not that much of a difference between working as a scientist in the U.S. and in France if you just consider the actual science work – you do experiments, you collaborate, you vie for grants, you present your work, you write and review papers. But there are subtle differences that either promote or impede this process, and a slue of things that just take a period of adjustment. Many of the unanticipated differences are almost so cliché that it’s hard to call them unanticipated, but some changes were either contrary to my expectations or just never even dawned on me. I hope this post serves to both inform those who are considering the pond jump and foster some reflection on how our own system works.

I think the single most fundamental difference between practicing science in the U.S. and France is the French natural tendency to compartmentalize work from life, and our belief that this division signals a lack of drive and dedication.

A typical meal at the French field laboratory SAJF

If you’re not a scientist, I bet you might imagine that ‘lab culture’ involves a white lab coat and gloves, and endless hours behind a microscope with stacks of petri dishes containing some organic-smelling growth. No social life. Lunch in front of the computer. Couches in the offices and showers on the floor, you know – so we really never have to leave. And sometimes, for labs in the U.S., you might be right.

However, in Europe lab culture is a warm sunny terrace in southern France, packed with people enjoying their 2-hour lunch break as others jog by or wish “bon appétit!” on their way to a lab-sponsored mid-day yoga class. While this scene is one of those clichés I’d expected, it wasn’t until it became my life that I understood why both of the U.S. and French stereotypes are as true as they are misrepresentations of the whole picture.

The U.S. Science Model

In my experience, entering an ecology or evolution lab in the States is like entering into a family. No matter what level you are at when you arrive, you soon know your lab director’s children, your post-doc’s pets, every grad student’s favorite alcoholic beverage, and the latest gossip about which undergrads believe their mutual crush is a secret. You may all come from different backgrounds, but you all have three things in common: you love what you do, you chose to live a life of constant challenge, and you know it’s wise to keep your collaborators close and your competitors closer. All jesting aside, the harder you work, the harder your peers work, and the more fun you all have when you finally allow for blowing off steam. Work hard, play hard. Together.

You eat in front of your computer because you’re either between teaching sessions or class, squeezing in some quiet journal reading, or more likely catching up on last night’s news satire. We don’t live in a ‘food culture’. Why waste 45 minutes round-trip to get a sandwich (you could have just brought with you) when you could be taking a quick run or swapping you-tube cat videos with your lab-mate?

What’s more, you’re never bored. Despite ‘geek’ apparently being the new ‘cool’, you probably moved in from another state and haven’t yet found your ‘people’. The lab is a perfect place to find out where to get the best late-night take-out, what hikes are close enough for a Saturday afternoon, and “hey, wanna join?” ... you’re never at a loss for conversation. Work is not considered work, it’s considered your life and you and your lab-mates just love to talk about it. Sure, you talk about your personal lives and even bring along your kids on lab snowboarding trips, but an evolution reference is never far from being dropped. Everyone knows the best ideas begin on the corner of a bar napkin.

UVA grad students enjoying the end of an afternoon's work

You are used to a string of people coming in and out of the lab all day: undergrads and colleagues asking your advice on a protocol, lab directors asking where we keep materials, friends reminding you there’s an 11am meeting then a 2pm talk, or to ask if your stack of grading has been as much of a nightmare as theirs. “Hey – you wanna see this new hybrid I just found?!” is usually a welcome interruption. After 5pm, when it’s understood that the ‘work day’ is over, the profs come out of their offices to share a lab beer, ask how projects are going, strategize about how to get a particular speaker to come visit, and maybe find out if anyone’s up for a movie that weekend. Collective decisions about who’s heading home and who’s going in on a pizza get made, and then the real science gets done, without interruptions from mentees, teaching, classes, meetings, or talks. Sometimes the show-and-tell still happens, but by then you’re just happy there’s another poor soul still on the hall at midnight. And a 10-minute long spin cycle in the middle of a procedure is just enough time to geek out together on gluten-free pizza recipes.

When we need do some alone time, we can always retreat to our own quiet places. You see, in the States, we have space. Lots of it. Every professor has his or her own office. Most post-docs have at least a proper niche, and even some lucky grad students do too. If you’re too busy for socializing, you simply close your door. If you don’t have an office, headphones usually get the message across. And of course, depending on the people, some labs are less boisterous than others.

The French Science Model

In France, space is a real limitation. Even those held in the highest esteem – at the top of their careers – often share an office with two to four people. And the walls are often very thin. Socializing during working hours is just plain rude. Even discussing work takes a bit of coordination. Whether an innate ability to throw the switch between full-throttle work and whole-hearted pleasure makes the work environment function, or if it’s something more recent that’s been born out of necessity, the French system has a sense of balance to it that ours often lacks.

That is not to say that the French are robots. On the contrary, they have a wicked sense of humor, are spontaneous, physically active, and know how to have a good time. They value their quality of life and are utterly incredulous that we Americans would consider eating lunch in front of a computer, even with friends nearby. For the French, life and work are rarely blurred. Sure, your inner-circle may emerge from those you meet in and around your lab. People who speak your (scientific) language and with whom you share at least that common interest. You may organize to do social things together outside of lab. But aside from that extended daily lunch, the operative word is outside of lab.

In the office, people are focused. They are efficient. They are visibly busy. Questions require advanced notice, preferably by email. While Americans might see the extended lunch period and frequent coffee breaks as a clear example of French malaise, gluttony, or both, they fail to realize the sheer brilliance in how the French earn these breaks. The French work ethic puts us ‘workaholic’ Americans to shame. I see this efficiency as a result of an innate (or learned cultural) ability to compartmentalize.

Then 5pm comes around. Or 7pm. But generally speaking, by some reasonable evening hour, everyone packs up and goes home. Sure, there may be a panicked few burning the midnight oil, or some experimental people at the whims of their organisms’ needs, but for the most part, people have families. They have plans. Eventually, you get included; warm-weather week-days are often followed by a couple hours of pétanque and barbeque, and for the winter months you can always find a ping pong table (“table tennis”) and willing partner in any research building. People even have tiny little leather [table] tennis bags for their specially-ordered paddles. Lab beers appear, and before you know it, you’re feeling right at home. But you don’t have to rush back to get work done. Plus, you’re beat from a day of focusing and you’ve gotten used to needing a large meal every four hours.

Rest and relaxation is not something you plan to recover in some far-off binge we call a vacation, it’s a part of daily life and it’s taken seriously.

French grad students enjoying an evening game of pétanque

I once had a French colleague almost scoff at my suggestion we discuss a project over dinner. He just laughed and said, “We can talk now, but after 6pm, we will go out and enjoy the evening. Work talk will no longer be allowed.” There are of course some who are more “like us” – especially those who have worked in the states or England - who have caught what I now see is almost an hysteria of work-driven excitement, and we do end up discussing science during designated R&R activities. But it’s clear that this is not the norm. It’s clear that if you can’t relax, something is wrong with you. You are out of balance. And such an American. I’m not saying the French don’t work on off-hours. You’re just not likely to find them doing so in the lab or over a beer on a regular basis.

An American Abroad

As an American, the French lifestyle has required some adjustment. On the other side of this “The French Have Work and Life Balance Down to a Science” coin, it can be more difficult to get to know your peers and superiors. My best guess is that the two-hour lunch break is the place where the majority of lab-mate bonds are forged. Be it personal or professional, this is the chance you have to talk without disturbing 8 people and learn about unscheduled mutual interests. While the full two hours is not always exploited, people make a daily effort to eat with their ‘team’. Slowly, you piece together the details of each others’ personal lives, start to catch the inside jokes, figure out the location of that ping-pong table, and eventually you find your people.

Also, either through habit or by nature, by 3pm, my brain need a rest. A distraction. For me, it’s because I know I’m about to put in another 6 hours, give or take two hours to get home and make dinner. Not to mention I’ve usually just recovered from an hour of trying to get work done through the post-gargantuan-two-hour-three-course-lunch sugar crash. My North American friends and I quickly became aware of how low we had to keep our mid-day giggles. The solution: an afternoon coffee break, usually outside no matter the weather, where other groups could be found whole-heartedly discussing politics or... gasp... science!

The French may find it sad that we eat sandwiches in front of our computers for lunch, and we may be critical and jealous of their mid-day standards, but in the end I can’t tell you that one strategy is better than the other.

While I have found it hard to completely throw the switch, I have come to learn the benefits of work/life compartmentalization. I’ve found people who enjoy getting together outside of the lab to work on projects, and I’ve rewarded myself by joining the crowd for R&R on days where I’ve managed to achieve a desired level of sustained productive focus. It’s a new rhythm, a hybrid lifestyle. And I consider myself very lucky to have this rare perspective. More people should give it a try.

Obviously, the difference between French and American lab culture is not the only thing that impacts life and work when making the jump. There are language barriers, differences in training strategies, administrative nightmares that could justify Tea Party Republican paranoia, and holidays – Oh! the holidays! But the subtle differences you didn’t expect are often the ones that make the biggest impressions.

Next Post: Sunday, 8 Dec. Not so much leaving the US, More going someplace specific.