Specialization brings success and happiness:
This is an idea I've ruminated on for years and years, but I feel that its perennial appearance in my life merits further discussion. One of the common complaints I hear from exhausted workers is that they are tired of doing one thing all day, whether that is staring at a computer screen, assembling tiny plastic pieces, or laying asphalt in the blazing sun. Capitalism tells us to specialize, that success will come by finding that one single thing that you are good at, honing that skill over 10,000+ hours so that you do it better than anyone else, and then getting paid to do that thing until you die. This is an extremely efficient system - how could one person ever be a good doctor, lawyer, accountant, construction worker, artist, and musician all at the same time? Folks even go so far as to say that happiness itself comes from finding your passion, that one thing that you love to do and can do it until you die. I so disagree. Every single minute of my life has proven to me that happiness does not come from doing one thing, but from managing many things at different times. Obviously you cannot do everything at once - research tells us that multi-tasking is a great way to accomplish nothing. But what's wrong with riding bikes in the morning, coding during the day, cooking and gardening in the afternoon, writing creatively by night, skiing and playing music on the weekends? Each of these activities thrusts me into the moment in a profound way and yields a tremendous amount of primal joy, but I would never want to do any of those things all day every day. Folks are so eager to define themselves, seek group identities (e.g. liberal, conservative, runner, skier, climber, cook, gardener, lawyer, doctor, teacher, engineer etc.) and even seek rivalries along these lines as a way to feel validated, feel belonging. But isn't it the learning process itself that folks find fulfilling? My most satisfying yoga moment came not with the ability to hold dandayamana dhanurasana for minutes on end, but when I first entered this pose! My most satisfying Trombone moment came not when I learned to play a song flawlessly, but when I first soloed over B-flat 12-bar blues, or first hit a high B-flat. I'm clearly not the world's leading yogi or Trombone player, but I'm pretty good and I continue to improve and that's life. So it goes.
Some amateur anthropology:
A useful philosophical abstraction for this dilemma is the notion of a primal human living in a state of nature. Presumably he or she is a member of a small tribe of other humans, perhaps no more than 100 (see Dunbar's number, a celebrated cognitive relationship between primate brain size and average social group size). Despite the size of this tribe, the family remains the fundamental unit of social organization led by a head of household (used here in a non-tax sense). This head of household manages home construction and maintenance, safety and security, food procurement (hunting, gathering, maybe farming etc.), cooking meals and cleaning, childbirth and family medicine, clothing and textile weaving...Perhaps the head of household delegates some of these tasks to a partner, but still manages the overall process and workflow. Eventually folks started discovering that they are better home-builders than food-procurers...fast forward to 2016, where a 24-year-old human man is employed as a water scientist (or scientist-in-training rather), and spends his days writing computer codes using numerical methods to solve a particular set of coupled, non-linear, partial differential equations in an attempt to physically model permafrost degradation on montane hillslopes (actually fairly stimulating, but still quite absurd). Yes, our society has "progressed" to our current state of technology, engineering, science, and medicine solely due to the specialization of truly brilliant individuals who devoted their lives to the advancement of these fields. But is this really necessary for me?
Masters vs. PhD:
If you've made it this far, you may guess that there is a nagging internal question driving these mad musings. If you care about my future in any way, I'd highly encourage you to continue reading this last bit and share any thoughts or insights! I'm obviously not your typical engineer or scientist - I like to read books, write papers, teach classes, schmooze etc. I have known for a long time that my main professional role is to liaise between science and the community; this transcends any particular job or life position I have held. I have found a tremendous amount of joy in the past year volunteering my time leading community outreach activities: Using Field Observations to Guide Model Parameters - Mountain Research Experience, Maintaining Field & Lab Notebooks - Research Experiences for Community College Students, How does the snow control the flow? - CU Portal to the Public, Lens on Climate Change etc. While continuing as a PhD student may in fact enable me to continue these activities (whereas a private industry gig most certainly would not), would it make sense to shoot for employment in an outreach role specifically? Would I get sick of doing community outreach activities all day every day? Is is simply the contrast that stimulates fulfillment? I'm not sure.
While I truly love my Colorado lifestyle, I wonder if a PhD is necessary to support my professional role as "science liaison." Pumping out technical papers in academic isolation feels pretty frivolous when the vast majority of humans will never read them. Our world is confronted with vast global challenges that require the union of science, industry, and government. I'm excited to work at that nexus, but I wonder if a PhD would push me away from this important work and into a useless jargon-filled hydrology hole. I clearly understand that I have a different set of skills from your typical scientist or engineer and frequently doubt my ability to complete technical tasks - should I take that as a legitimate soul warning? or more as a form of "imposter syndrome"? A recent example: I've been banging my head against a wall for months trying to simulate snowpack accumulation and ablation using a surface energy balance approach. After reading many papers and digging through many Fortran codes, I finally got it working last week in a moment of triumph! Am I just becoming accustomed to the the pace of research? Or should this indicate that I am in the wrong place? If I go off and homestead in a few years, will a PhD have been a waste of time? Is a PhD a stepping stone to an academic position that would allow me to do all the reading, writing, teaching, and schmoozing that I want?
The Practical:
Obviously I'll continue to do what I'm doing until some major life signal tells me to stop. Many of these alternatives I've pondered may not even exist (do people really get paid to write all day? who is hiring "outreach professionals"?). I'm taking a set of preliminary exams in January that would set the stage for a PhD. I'll hit 30 credits this spring, which means that if I write down what I've been researching I could take my Masters degree and go. Patagonia March 2018? Will hear this spring...
The Personal:
I miss my Minnesota family and friends! While I continue to build a strong community in Boulder, I still struggle to connect on a deep soul level with more than a few individuals. Would any of this change if I moved back to Minnesota? Would any of this change if I moved elsewhere? These are the questions.
