Philip Guo recently published a memoir of his experience as a PhD student in computer science. His is a story of self-discovery and triumph. Getting a PhD is hard, especially for someone who hasn't already discovered a burning passion for a subfield, which Guo had not done when he started his PhD.
Having completed two years of PhD school in computer science myself and not having identified a subfield for which I have a consuming passion, I strongly sympathized with Guo as I read his memoir. Accordingly, I read closely and imagined myself in his situation. I came away hopeful that my experience would be similarly serendipitous. I also came away more acutely aware of the problems with the academic peer review system. Of particular note is the fact that Guo submitted papers that were rejected because his writing didn't meet the arbitrary expectations of current experts in the field, not because his research was unoriginal or uninformative. I believe in good writing and recognize that good writing necessarily reflects familiarity with an audience. I'm not taking issue with the need for good writing, but I believe that some of the requirements for publication are detrimental to the academic community as a whole.
Allow me to explain.
Early in his graduate career, Guo submitted a paper to a conference and was rejected. His research was, as the memoir tells, of a similar caliber to other research that was published. Guo's failure was in convincing the entrenched researchers in that community that his work was original and useful. That is, it wasn't the quality of work that mattered for publication. What mattered was the apparent quality of his work. Guo's paper went unpublished because the system evaluates whether or not research seems to be good, not whether or not the research is good.
To be fair, this is a scientific community and it strives to be objective. There isn't a way to determine if research is good objectively, so the community makes do with the best solution that it has found to date.
The problem with peer review is compounded by the fact that the quality of a scientist is estimated by his or her publication record (see, for example, h-index). This leads to problems such as this, where a scientist manages to falsify peer review in order to seem like an effective scientist.
Unfortunately, problems of this kind are found everywhere. We get a job not by being the best candidate for a job but by seeming to be the best candidate. Dating works along the same lines. Sports revolve around what the officials perceive, so they have precisely the same issue. Political discourse clearly emphasizes seeming over being.
Being something allows us to act. Other people's behavior towards us, however, depends on what we seem to be. It isn't possible (or desirable) to avoid seeming to be something. Instead, we should all try to seem to be what we are and to avoid seeming to be what we are not. If you find yourself trying to seem in a certain way, check to make sure that it's actually true. Are you really confident or do you seem that way? Are you actually good at what you do or do you just have a killer resume? Keep in mind that self-deception is not just possible but commonplace.
This is not to say that we should not aspire for greatness beyond what we have yet attained. And reaching for greatness requires emulation. We should try to improve by emulating the best that we see in other people. The purpose of this emulation must be for us to acquire positive characteristics, not to seem better than we are. And when others try to improve, we should encourage them instead of calling them hypocrites.
Since we interact with others, the question of our own characteristics is insufficient; we must also question our perceptions of others. Do you and I assume that the things we perceive are reality? When someone seems to be self-absorbed or quiet or happy, do we assume that this is generally the case? Do we disregard others' ideas when they aren't presented as we are used to hearing ideas or when they come from unusual or unproven sources? Do we assume that people remain the same or do we believe that people can change for the better?
The most important thing that we can do is personal: each of us can work at becoming better. We can concern ourselves less with how we seem and more with how we are. And we can give others the benefit of the doubt. We must also encourage societal change to value actuality over mere appearance. We must consciously choose to value genuineness over the appearance of virtues. We can expect people to be good but not extraordinary, freeing them from the pressure to seem to be good enough for our unrealistic expectations. Relatedly, we must put less pressure on people to be something that they are not; introverts and extroverts and everyone in between are good people. The same goes for scientists and liberal arts majors. In other words, we should encourage people to grow but not to be untrue to themselves. We also need to encourage virtues, such as honesty, industry, and kindness – but never assume that we see them clearly in others. Hardest of all, we must strive as a society and especially as individuals to acquire these virtues.
