Kimono

I just realized, I should clear up my blogging backlog before I fly to Okinawa tomorrow. Otherwise, I'll never catch up again...

About 10 days ago, I visited the Osaka Museum of History. Not because the museum itself is so great (it was ok, but not grand), but because you could try on a Kimono for free on that day!

So without further ado, here's what it looked like:

Just look at how beautifully they tied the belt at the back! Took two of the ladies at the booth a good couple of minutes to get it done :-)

Another interesting exhibition took place in the museum's lobby: they had cut-open versions of Japanese houses on display. Just for those who have never been in one - here are some impressions:

This is more like a restaurant interior, I think

Living room

And another room

Himeji

The main attraction in Himeji, Himeji castle, is currently undergoing renovation (until 2014, I think). I knew this before I went, but still I had to go and see what can be seen of one of the few original castles in Japan. Most castles have been destroyed at some point in time and have been reconstructed using concrete.

Renovation means that the entire main keep is covered by a huge scaffolding, so you don't see anything from the outside, and you can't go in either. The bonus is that the entrance fee is a lot cheaper than usual!

Some of the smaller buildings and most of the castle grounds were open, however, so I got to see at least something. Somewhere on the grounds was the piece of wall you can see on the picture below. The round tiles are usually used to decorate the eaves, and the different designs show the family crests of all the lords who contributed to building the castle.

Right next to Himeji castle is Koko-en garden, a handful of different Japanese gardens. They were nearly empty when I visited, probably because tourists stay away from Himeji due to the castle renovation. All the more opportunities to take nice, uncrowded pictures! ;-)

After strolling through the gardens, I went on to Hyogo Prefectural Museum of History (Hyogo is the name of the prefecture where Himeji is located). The most interesting exhibit was a room full of models of Japanese castles. The biggest one in the image is Himeji castle, of course.

My final stop that day was Himeji City Museum of Art. They had an exhibition showing mostly paintings by a single Japanese artist (forgot his name.. ah well). This allowed to retrace how his style evolved over time which I found very interesting.

Nagasaki

Sunday

I arrived in Nagasaki on Sunday afternoon. When I was done with finding the Ryokan and checking in, it was too late to visit anything with regular opening hours. Instead, I decided to just take a stroll around the area. After a brief visit to the nearby shopping arcade, I ended up heading towards the seaside.

There, I found that the Nagasaki art museum has great opening hours - until 8pm - and that entry to about one third of the exhibition space is free. The exhibition in that part, titled "Under 40", covered the works of a couple of young Japanese artists. I found some of the artwork - and the techniques used - really fascinating.

This one, for example, used nylons to create the black effect on top of the painted image

The descriptions for most of the exhibits were Japanese only. I found that this actually made me look more carefully at the artwork while I tried to form my own opinion about what the artist wanted to express. A great experience - in the future, I'll skip reading the descriptions and look more closely even if I am able to read the language.

Streetcars are the main means of transportation in downtown Nagasaki

Monday

In the morning, I visited the atomic bomb memorials. Just as I exited the peace park, it started to rain. It was still raining when I had finished lunch and checking my email at an Internet cafe. I almost gave up for the day, but then bought an umbrella and headed on to Oura catholic church, the eldest church in Japan. Right next to Oura church is Glover garden. This is a park containing several 19th century western houses. In the 19th century, the ports of Nagasaki were opened after centuries of being almost completely shut off from the rest of the world. I bet it's quite pretty if it's not pouring down.

 

Tuesday

On Tuesday I went to visit a number of temples in Nagasaki. Interestingly, many of the temples are lined up on the foot of a hill, and a HUGE Buddhist graveyard spans the entire area uphill behind the temples. Starting from the first temple, Sofuku-ji, I went up the stairs and wandered around the graveyard for a bit. When I started to look for a way back down, I promptly got lost in a couple of dead ends above one of the other temples. I ended up going down on exactly the same path as on my way up. I have no idea how I managed to find that path again :-)

Only two of the temples asked for an entry fee, and overall there were not many people around. In most of the temples, the atmosphere was therefore quite different compared with the crowded temples I visited in Kyoto - very tranquil and peaceful, much more like the atmosphere you would expect in a temple. Two of the temples had yet another atmosphere - they had a kindergarten in the temple grounds, and were therefore full of the lively sounds of children playing.

The main hall of Shofuku-ji temple

In the afternoon, I went on to have a look at the reconstructed Urakami cathedral - not particularly impressive if you are used to the huge and ornate cathedrals in Europe.

Finally, I visited Dejima museum. Dejima was the name of the earliest Dutch settlement in Nagasaki. It was located on a fan-shaped artificial island, basically the Dutch ghetto in Nagasaki. Again - most of it is not very impressive if you are used to Western-style buildings and interiors. One aspect, however, was very interesting: the combination of Japanese-style rooms with tatami mats on the floor and Western furniture.

Wednesday

In the morning, I went to visit the Nagasaki Museum of History and Culture. As the name indicates, they exhibit stuff concerning Nagasaki's history and culture (surprise, surprise). As a harbor town - and as Japan's only open port for many years - exhibits focus on trade and trade partners, mainly the Netherlands, Korea and China. They have free English audioguides, so I spent quite a long time in there listening to all the explanations.

After that, I headed to Mt. Inasa where a ropeway leads up to a lookout with a grand view over Nagasaki. Unfortunately, the observation platform was undergoing renovations, so the only lookout available was the staircase leading up to the platform. It was also pretty cold and, above all, windy, so I didn't stay up there for a long time - just enough to shoot a couple of quick pictures of the view.

Ebisu Festival

Ebisu Festival was actually celebrated some time ago - at the beginning of January. I've been a little lazy sorting through pictures, hence the late blog post.

Anyway, the festival is held at Imamiya-Ebisu Shrine in Osaka. When I went, there were LOTS of people there, basically one big queue from the train station to the shrine and throughout the shrine. The queue somehow dispersed on the way back to the train station. No idea why or how, though ;-)

What people do during this shrine visit is they first bring the bamboo branches they had during the previous year from home and dispose of them.

Then, they buy new branches and tokens to decorate the branch. The branches are supposed to bring prosperity and success in business.

As you can see by the amount of people holding bamboo branches in the picture below, there are apparently many people wishing for prosperity ;-)

Nagasaki - Atomic Bomb Memorials

Last Monday, I went to visit the Atomic Bomb Museum, the Nagasaki National Peace Memorial Hall for the Atomic Bomb Victims, the Hypocenter and the Peace Park.

Atomic Bomb Museum

The museum documents the damage done by the atomic bomb. The first exhibit that really moved me were two aerial photographs, one taken before the bombing and one after. The first shows a thriving city. The second shows barren land.

Next, there are some exhibits demonstrating the effect of the extreme heat: molten glass bottles and coins, roof tiles with bubbles, and one that I found particularly terrible:  bones of a human hand, partly covered with molten glass, apparently found near the Hypocenter.

Another very impressive part are testimonials by survivors - both written and on video - who described how they experienced that day and the time that followed. There are testimonials by children who saw their mothers and siblings burn and die before their eyes. There are testimonials by people who survived and tried to help, but couldn't do enough. There are testimonials by people who survived but were severely injured and never fully recovered.

Finally, the museum also has some information about the fight against nuclear weapons after the war, and which nations continue to do nuclear testing and develop nuclear weaponry.

Nagasaki National Peace Memorial Hall for the Atomic Bomb Victims

The memorial hall is designed as a place to remember the people who died because of the atomic bomb. The hall holds written records with the names of everybody who died (the column in the middle of the picture holds folders with all of the names).

I am still trying to wrap my mind around the number: 152.276. Erlangen has around 100.000 inhabitants. So one and a half times Erlangen, dead. Everybody. Women. Children. Old people. Prisoners. Foreigners. Everybody. And for most of them, not a quick, painless death, but a slow and painful one.

Who is responsible for that? The person issuing the order? The pilots dropping the bomb? The people loading the bomb into the aircraft? The factory workers assembling the bomb? The scientists developing it?

Did any of them feel responsible? Was anybody held responsible? And how did they live with the knowledge that they had contributed to the death of thousands of innocent civilians?

This got me thinking - isn't it marvelous how the military chain of command coupled with an uneven distribution of knowledge somehow removes the sense of responsibility?
Of all the people involved - who knew that the bomb was special? Who realized what effect the bomb would have? Who had the knowledge but still followed their orders without questioning them? Who did the job just for the money and closed their eyes to the real nature of what they were doing? Who enjoyed being part of something special? Who felt proud to be given the chance to prove themselves on a critical mission?

In the end, almost everybody was "just" following orders. Disobeying orders is always difficult - shown in the Milgram experiment, for example - and critical thinking is not really encouraged in the military. Or in big companies, for that matter. I believe they have largely the same problems as the military regarding loss of responsibility. And the people issuing the orders were so far removed from the fate of individual people that they were just dealing with numbers - if they thought about it at all.

Some of the scientists involved warned against the use of the bomb in June 1945 (the Franck Report). But at that time, it was too late of course: military and politics alike had found a new toy, a weapon that put them ahead in the war game. And they needed to use it to justify the billions of dollars that had been spent developing it.

So were the scientists wrong in developing it at all?

What still blows my mind is how humans are capable of administering a slow and painful death to completely innocent people. But much more scary, perhaps, is that I can see how a situation would develop in which you are led to believe there is only one specific way to act, and how it would be extremely difficult to act differently once you find yourself in such a situation.


Hypocenter

A black column marks the location of the Hypocenter, that is, the place below the bomb's detonation point (which was about 500m above the ground). To the right of the column, you can see one pillar from Urakami cathedral that remained standing after the explosion. The cathedral was originally not that close to the Hypocenter, but the pillar was relocated here when reconstruction of the cathedral started.

Around the area of the Hypocenter and the Atomic Bomb Museum, there are many small peace monuments, often decorated with colorful ribbons.

Peace Park

The peace park holds a number of statues and monuments that have been contributed from around the world, all advocating peace.

Far more impressive than that, however, are the ruins of the building that stood closest to the bomb's detonation point. The building - a prison with sturdy, steel-enforced brick and concrete walls - was completely flattened. All that's left are 10 or maybe 15 centimeters of wall, with bent steel sticking out.

Ruins of a prison. You can see the famous peace statue in the background.

Nowadays, the ruins have been repossessed by nature:

Aso

In Aso, I stayed in the Aso Base Backpackers hostel for two nights. It is a brand-new place, located only two minutes away from the train station, featuring a great communal area and kitchen, as well as free coffee, tea, and wifi.

Just after my arrival, I got to talk with a guy who was also staying there. As it turns out, he had just quit his job as a software engineer to travel through Asia for a year. He said he had hated getting up in the morning to go to his job, and hated himself for still doing it every morning. He said you have to live your life every day and do things that inspire you.

This got me thinking: when I go back to Germany in May, I will have some savings, but no relationship, no job, and most importantly, no idea which kind of job I'd really want to do. But I've always loved traveling. Getting to know different cultures, languages, foods, nature, sights, and people has always fascinated me. So why not go backpacking myself? Now seems to be the perfect time in my life!

So, thanks to this random guy I met in a youth hostel - who I didn't even exchange contact information with... stupid me. Justin, if you by any chance read this: send me an email :-) - I now know again what I want to do. I am really excited and already looking forward to my trip!

But back to Aso. On Saturday, I got up pretty early to catch the first bus up to Aso-san. The volcano was emitting steaming clouds, but luckily no toxic fumes, and so I could start my hike with a good look at the crater.

As you can see (or maybe not) the blue light was flashing, indicating that everything was safe

The crater, seen from a little further up

Near the crater, there were a couple of booths selling bright yellow lumps of sulfur - accompanied by the warning that you cannot take them on an airplane (not even in checked baggage). So of course I didn't buy any but took a couple of pictures:

The hike - which ended up being a little more than 16 kilometers - took me to two of the five peaks of Aso-san, Naka-dake at 1506m and Taka-dake at 1592m. Unfortunately, I had to use the same path for the return trip because the path I wanted to take was closed off. If you're interested, have a look at the track (and don't forget they provide aerial pictures, too).

Naka-dake peak

Taka-dake peak

I didn't meet many people during that day, but there was some snow at the peaks and beautifully colored rocks to look at.

When I sat in the bus on my way down to Aso again, they started burning the old grass on the mountain. The flames were visible in Aso and continued for several hours.

After the hike, I had originally planned to visit the fire festival which was to take place in the evening. Unfortunately - but understandably - the festival had been canceled because of the earthquake.

So instead of going to the fire festival, I spent some time relaxing in the local Onsen. An Onsen is a public bath that - as far as I know - has one or more hot baths that are powered by local hot springs. The Onsen in Aso has two hot baths, one indoor and one outdoor. There is also a sauna, a cold bath, and a couple of Japanese-style showers. As the baths in the Onsen are strictly separated by sex, I guess that the same facilities are also available in the men's part. After a day of hiking, bathing in an Onsen is indeed the perfect way to relax!

Ryokan

In Nagasaki, I decided to stay in a traditional Japanese Ryokan. Following the recommendation in the Lonely Planet, I booked a Japanese-style room in a Ryokan called Nishikiso Bekkan.

So, what exactly does Japanese-style room mean?
First off, as with any accommodation in Japan, you remove your shoes right at the entrance of the Ryokan and leave them there. There are guest slippers available, but you can also walk around in socks (I don't know if this really is acceptable, but at least nobody complained so far).
If you wear slippers, you remove them in the tiny antechamber to your room. The floor in the room is completely covered with tatami mats. There is a low table and a chair without legs (see image below), another table with two comfy chairs, a TV, and... no bed. As the lady explains to me, she will make the bed later in the evening.

Chair minus the legs

I received an ensuite room (although I'm pretty sure I neither booked nor paid for this...), so there also is a tiny bathroom off the main room. A pair of sliding doors reveals the storage cupboard with a stash of bedding materials.

The storage cupboard is hidden behind the sliding doors on the right, the door in the middle leads to the bathroom

There was the option of having dinner in the Ryokan on the first evening, and of course I wanted to try that. I had expected that there would be a common dining area for the dinner, but I was wrong: dinner was served in the privacy of my own room! As I seated myself at the low table, the lady brought in three trays with a variety of foods. I had forgotten to mention my soy intolerance, so Miso soup and a variety of soy-based sauces were there. I didn't eat the Miso, but used all of the available sauces - and to my surprise, I didn't pay for that indulgence with stomach aches! So sauces of any kind seem to be fine, which is very good news to me. The food was every bit as varied and delicious as it looked:

After dinner, I went out again to find some Internet - one of the drawbacks of this Ryokan is that there is no Internet available - and when I came back, the lady had prepared my bed:

A propos Internet: I had looked forward to five blissful days without the constant urge to check email or facebook, without the need to follow the day-to-day news, without chatting, without wasting time surfing the net. I was about four hours into these five days when I heard about the earthquake. About ten hours in, someone made me realize the extent of the earthquake/tsunami, and it began to dawn on me that there would be no blissful Internet-free time this time. So I've been checking the news, writing emails, facebook messages and blog posts to assure everybody that I was indeed safe, and trying not to worry too much about the nuclear situation at Fukushima. Well, I sure do hope that my vacation in Okinawa in two weeks will be more peaceful.

But - back to the Ryokan. The staff was really helpful, providing me with a map of the surroundings, and answering all my questions about restaurants, sights, Internet cafes, and mobile phone shops (for people who forget their charger at home... they recharge phones for free at mobile phone shops - and they even gave me a free package of instant Ramen noodles when I picked my phone up again).

Staying at a Ryokan has definitely been an interesting experience - one I wouldn't want to miss - and Nishikiso Bekkan is a really nice place. But all in all, I very much prefer a dorm room in a hostel to any kind of hotel accommodation. The additional privacy offered by a hotel room just can't compete against the kitchen and communal areas in a hostel. In addition, the chance to meet fellow travellers in a hostel is really invaluable. And it's cheaper, too.

Train Travel in Japan

I have to admit, on my trip to Aso on Friday, I was a bit pissed off. I had heard so much about the great Japanese train system, and just when I travel by train, everything is delayed. So I prepared to write a great rant about how the Japanese trains are no better than the German ones. And then I heard about the earthquake.

So, no rant. Due to the delays, I missed two connections in my journey and arrived about two hours later than intended. I called the hostel to tell them I was going to be late, and it turned out to be no problem at all. And who do I meet on the last leg of my journey, in the local train to Aso? Germans, of course. Seems you really can't go anywhere without running into some of them... As it turns out, the guy works for Siemens medical in Tokyo - and previously used to work in Erlangen, where I lived before coming to Japan. Small world, eh?

On Sunday, my image of Japanese train travel was fully restored. I got on the brand-new Kyushu Shinkansen (it had opened just this Saturday), and all trains were almost frighteningly on time.

Interior of the new Kyushu Shinkansen (each compartment had a different interior design, this is the one I chose)

Traveling in Japanese trains is slightly different from German trains. Here's what I noticed:

• Nobody checks your ticket in the Shinkansen - because both ticket and seat reservation are checked in the automated ticket gate. So without a ticket, you can't even get close to boarding a train.
• There are vending machines in the train - and they are not significantly more expensive than regular vending machines (a drink that usually goes for 120 Yen was sold for 130 in the train).
• When the staff in a train move from one car to another, they stop, turn and bow each time they leave a compartment.
• Railfans: on all the Shinkansen stations I have been to so far, there were (Japanese) people taking pictures of the trains. Most of them using their mobile phones, but on each end of the platform there were a handful of people with really good and expensive cameras. 

Notice the camera-equipped people on the right-hand side of the picture

I joined them, of course... have a look:

Yes, I do realize that the train is focused instead of me and that I have a slight sunburn ;-)

I'm fine

Just heard about the earthquake this evening... Luckily I'm in a completely different part of Japan right now, so I'm fine :)

Sayonara academia, I get a life.

"Goodbye academia, I get a life." This was the title of a blog post a friend forwarded to me last week. I could immediately relate to most of what the author wrote, and so I had a look at the comments, too (which I rarely ever bother to do). I was quite surprised by the overall quality of the comments. As it turns out, there are many, many people who are in a similar situation as I am now, and have similar doubts and feelings.

My favorite quote from this blog post sums it up very aptly:

"When I found that academia was not working for me, I got immediately depressed -my whole worldview was crumbling."

So I decided that it might be time to elaborate a little on what exactly my doubts and feelings are. I already hinted at some of this in my birthday post, but obviously, there's a lot more to say about the topic. Important note, however: this post mainly deals with what I have decided to leave behind... and not with where I might go in the future. As such, it is probably not the most constructive of posts. But it may well serve as a reminder to my future self, similar to the letter published in the QuidQuid QuidQuid blog.

So what are the reasons for leaving academia behind? Here's a list - in no particular order, and not necessarily complete:

• Competition for funding and positions
• Job insecurity
• Location insecurity
  
• Sabotage
• Plagiarism
  
• Playing it safe
• Unwavering determination and self-confidence required
  
• Publication bias
• Selective reporting
• Publish or perish
• Military applications
• Loss of meaning

Competition for funding and positions

 

This problem has been described in many articles I've read, for example the blog post at devicerandom, an article in the Economist, and a very recent article in Nature. An excellent graphical illustration can be found over at PhD Comics: the Profzi Scheme.

Basically, what the articles say is that a cheap army of PhD students and post-docs do most of the research work while working on one temporary contract after the other (if they're lucky). In the end, however, there are very few permanent positions available. A harsh competition ensues, in which of course only "the best" can hope to win (more on how you determine who "the best" is further down).

Job Insecurity

 

This competition leads to the situation that you can never be certain if you will still have a job when the current contract ends. Grants might not be renewed, or the job might be given to someone better. In addition, once you are out of a job, finding a new one may prove very difficult due to the competition, again.

Do I need to elaborate why this type of insecurity is bad? Maybe just one aspect: Try getting a loan while on a temporary contract! Buying property is thus virtually impossible for all those people in academia who have not obtained a permanent position - which is the vast majority!

Location insecurity

 

Job insecurity basically leads to people feeling pressured to accept any job offered to them. This job may be located in the middle of nowhere, at the other end of the world, or somewhere in between. The important point is: you have virtually no influence over it!

I believe this problem exists in virtually all academic fields. For mathematics, have a look at the Mostly Maths blog. For biophysics, see in singulo.

Sabotage

 

According to the blog entry at devicerandom and the comments there, sabotage seems to be frighteningly common in some research fields. Luckily, I haven't had to experience this so far. But you can easily see how people would be tempted to hamper their competition's progress if they have the chance.

Plagiarism

 

I've seen my fair share of plagiarism in the past years, mostly when reviewing potential publications for journals or conferences, but also in student papers or theses. In every single case, I couldn't help but feel personally insulted. As a reviewer, you put in a lot of effort to understand a paper and gauge if it's worth to be published. As a teacher, you put in an equal amount of work to read and grade the student's work. If, at some point in this process, you find out that it is plagiarism, you feel like somebody purposely decided to waste your time and insult your knowledge of the field by believing they can get away with plagiarism. In some cases, people even copied from my own papers - a double insult: first they steal from you and then try to sell it back as new.

I'm not sure if the problem of plagiarism is getting worse or not, but I'm very sure that it already is bad enough right now. And as an honest person, I'm pretty fed up with having to deal with impostors, thieves, or liars.

Playing it safe

 

This has been discussed in the article at devicerandom, and also corresponds to my own experience. Instead of taking the risk and pursuing a radically new or different idea, many researchers decide not to endanger their career and play it safe. The result? Tons of tiny, incremental improvements to their own previous work. And research projects that are designed to make tiny, incremental improvements.

Considering how funding works and how grant applications are accepted or rejected, however, this behavior is not surprising at all. How does funding work? Just consider the competition again. There are many (many) researchers in any given field. Money will of course be given to the applicant who can demonstrate the most experience or excellence in the field. And how do you demonstrate experience and excellence? Many publications, of course! Which brings us straight back to playing it safe.

Determination and self-confidence

 

Another of my favorite quotes from the devicerandom blog entry:

"this means working 24/7, basically leaving behind everything in your life, without any doubt on your skills and abilities and most importantly on your project, while fencing off a competition of equally tough, confident and skilled guys."

I believe this pretty much nails it down: this is what you face in academia. But who really has this determination, this unwavering confidence in their own abilities, this absolute conviction that their project is the best, most worthwhile and most promising project there is? I don't think I do.

Publication bias

 

Publication bias is a problem in the scientific publishing system, very nicely described in this article in the New Yorker. The problem is that publishers very much prefer to publish positive results. If some research yields negative or null results (saying that something could not be proven, or that a specific effect was not observed in the results), it is much less likely to be accepted for publication.

Needless to say that this is bad because it makes it very hard to publicly disprove previously published results that turn out to be false. The LiquidPub project may be an approach to alleviate this problem in the long term, but right now publication bias is unfortunately very much alive.

Selective reporting

 

Another fundamental problem: it has been shown that a researcher's beliefs and expectations significantly affect the outcome of the research. This is often done without malicious intent - just "subtle omissions and unconscious misperceptions" when recording data, according to the New Yorker.

But it can also be much more conscious: for example, some people omit specific data from plots because the data cannot be explained or do not show the desired effect. In my opinion though, this borders on forgery. A big problem in this context is that of replication: many research results in my field cannot be reproduced from the published information alone. Almost all authors omit crucial information regarding their models or experimental setups. Therefore, there is no way for the scientific community to find out about such manipulations because nobody can replicate the experiments.

Another issue that fits the heading of selective reporting is my feeling that people do not tell you everything in their publications. They write just enough so that their work looks good, but carefully hide all that would hint at the disadvantages of their work. And if you try to be honest and discuss all aspects of your work in a publication - surprise, surprise, publication bias at work again - you're not getting published!

Publish or perish

 

What "publish or perish" means is, either you publish lots and lots of papers, or you will perish in academia (i.e. not get a permanent position).
The root of this problem is again the amount of competition for permanent positions. Back in the day (not sure when this was... but for argument's sake, let's assume there was such a day), when there were at most a handful of applicants for any given position, the merit of each candidate, and the quality of their research, could be evaluated carefully and individually. Nowadays, with dozens of applications for any position, a quicker method for assessing research quality had to be found. Enter metrics such as the ominous "impact factor" or the "number of journal publications".
So, in effect, in order to successfully compete for a position in academia, you need to maximize your performance in terms of these metrics - and not in terms of research quality! More often than not, this means having lots of publications. And this, of course, leads to people publishing a new paper for every tiny increment they make in their work. And it provides another incentive to tweak research results so they will get published.

Military applications

 

Military applications are an ethical problem I have that actually concerns both of the research areas I have been working in. One of the fields has many applications besides the military ones (but is still strongly funded by the military). In the other field, however, I'm quite convinced that the civilian applications have been invented pretty much only to keep the pacifists quiet.

Of course, I am aware that military research has led to great civilian applications in the past (the Internet, anyone?). The question I ask myself, however, is whether I really want to take part in this? Do I want to contribute to people being killed as a result of my research? Or to make waging war more efficient? To provide another incentive for war as it becomes "less risky" for the soldiers involved?

The only answer I can come up with is a crystal clear "NO!" The answer becomes even clearer when I look at the number of pointless and unjustified wars that are being fought today. Call me a hopeless pacifist, but I believe that the only thing achieved in war is the suffering of civilian population. I will not support this!

Loss of meaning

 

This is probably the most important point of them all. I don't see meaning in my research anymore. It all seems so arbitrary to me - like you make a hammer to drive a very specific nail. Only that you made that nail yourself just a minute ago. And then you arbitrarily modify the nail. And adapt your hammer to the new nail. And continue like this for all eternity (or until funding runs out).

The purpose of all this? Surely, I see one purpose: getting papers published - in order to get ahead of your competition in the academic race to the top of the Profzi Scheme. But unfortunately, this is about the only purpose I see. And it is just not enough for me.

What I want instead is a more meaningful occupation. Where people or society can actually benefit from what I do. Where I might make a real impact instead of just publishing papers for the sake of having published papers.

Where to now?

 

I do not know where I will go from here. I do not have a plan. I think I need to rediscover what I enjoy doing. Maybe take a major break. Maybe volunteer. But most definitely: quit pressuring myself.

I am considering all kinds of options right now. I am considering being a writer, a photographer, or a teacher. I am considering working for an NGO, a company whose products I love, or starting my own business. I am considering moving to another continent.

The world is my playground. And I think I'll take my time to figure out what, and where, I'd like most to play. For nobody really benefits if we work without the passion we have when we play.

Some (more) links

Just one last thing I want to share: a few links to the blogs and articles that I have read prior to writing this. All of these have inspired this article in one way or another.
blog.devicerandom - "Goodbye academia, I get a life."
QuidQuid QuidQuid - "why I decided to leave grad school in Classics"
Economist - "The disposable academic"
Nature - "Give postdocs a career, not empty promises"
PhD Comics - The Profzi Scheme
Mostly Maths - "Future in Mathematics"
in singulo - "In Silico"
New Yorker - "The Truth Wears Off - Is there something wrong with the scientific method?"
Escape the Tower - entire blog about what's broken in academia
Matt Welsh - left Harvard professorship for job at Google
Worst Professor Ever - how to get a job after grad school
blog.devicerandom - "Goodbye academia: The aftermath."
Times Higher Education - things to consider before doing a postdoc
Leaving Academia - a blog with resources for people wanting to leave academia
Science 2.0 - this guy likes being in academia but gives a hint why people should quit and when

Hinamatsuri (Doll Festival)

The Japanese Doll Festival (Hinamatsuri), or girl's day, was celebrated on March 3rd. What people do is they put up a display of dolls. According to Wikipedia, these dolls were originally believed to contain bad spirits. I don't know if people still believe that, but they do continue to display dolls.

Like so many things in Japan, the placement of the dolls follows strict rules that everybody seems to obey. Although I have seen only one Hina doll display, it matched the one displayed on the Wikipedia article quite closely.

As you can see, there's an emperor and empress on the top level. On levels two to five, they are followed by court ladies, musicians, ministers, and helpers. Various objects occupy the last two levels. Have a look at some of the details:

Top level: the empress

Second level: one of the court ladies

Third level: a musician

Fourth level: a minister

Fifth level: one of the helpers (unhappy looking chap, ain't he?)

All in all, I think that the doll display is rather indicative of Japanese society in general: very hierarchical, and with very strict rules that people obey without questioning.