Community & Friendship
Some years ago I finished the day in a pub in a South Kensington Mews. A colleague inclined his head toward a cluster of researchers from another group in the Department (working, as it happens, on architectures for parallel computers) who appeared to have been resident for some time. They were surrounded by empty glasses and crisp packets. "The funny thing" my colleague said "is that there is a large Institute in Japan who think they are racing them".
When we talk about research we often refer to competition, fed by awards, league tables and citation indices, and of course, scientific precedence. The contest for superiority among countries, institutions, departments, groups and sub-fields features strongly in any account. Now, I do not want to entirely discount this aspect of research but, in my experience competition plays a minor role in driving progress forwards. The major role is played by cooperation and friendship. This is entirely under emphasised.
I know that some of my most profound and meaningful friendships are those I have made through my work. There are many parts to this, first and foremost I devote a good part of my best creative energy to my research. I can share the fruits of this creativity with only a few people. The researchers in an area are bound together by this sharing. I am sure that I am not the only scientist to whom a good idea has occurred, on a weekend, on holiday or when relaxing, and is immediately frustrated that there is nobody there to who they can share it with.
The second component that builds friendship is that so much of the creativity is collective. The experience of sitting around with peers in an office, or over a coffee in the common room, bouncing exciting (and ridiculous) ideas around, scribbling on whiteboards and scraps of paper, is a great shared pleasure. The same is true of working with doctoral students as both parties engage in a process of mutual growth through a shared exploration. A process that can create deep bond of friendship.
I have spend countless hours in restaurants, hotel bars, on beaches, in airport lounges, gossiping, chatting about the pleasures of family and the frustrations of university life. I confess to spending more time with my 'scientific friends' than I do with my 'personal friends'. A product of all the difficulties associated with carving personal time out of exhausting working weeks.
Finally there is the sense of community. We refer to ourselves as a scientific community as a sort of shorthand but the sense of ourselves as a collective bound together by values and commitments as well as a network of personal friendships and loyalties, as well as occasional enmities, is a real one. I have experienced kindess, support and concern in great measure within the community. There are far more occasions on which people reach out to help colleagues and to encourage students than there are instances of selfishness. In this context, the odd excess of ego can be readily forgiven.
I wish that this aspect of our work was more recognised and that community and friendship were spoken of as frequently as competition and rivalry.