Sanity in Science

Well in standard blogging style I’ve taken a break and intend to end that now.

In addition to the expected guilt, my motivation today comes from an article that caught my attention. It is written by a recently-tenured computer scientist at Harvard who writes about how she survived her tenure-track position by pretending it was a seven-year postdoc. Now, she writes this article as an associate professor with tenure. This is a different perspective than a faculty member who failed that test. However, she presents a compelling case for dealing professionally and psychologically with the rigors of a tenure-track life.

But her story also brings up larger questions, largely unaddressed in her own article, about the scientific profession. While I will comment on parts of her article, and I encourage you to read it, I want to focus on the items she left unsaid.

The essay begins by describing the challenges of the job. Talented scientists—the author’s friends—become miserable or opt out for fear of becoming miserable. After proving oneself for years getting a Ph.D. and then years more for a postdoctoral fellowship, a five to seven year tenure-track position seems masochistic. A researcher is likely to be in their mid-thirties by the time the position begins, perhaps with young children. (After all, while academic scientists are good at delayed gratification if anyone is, children can only come so late). In an unfortunate turn of phrase, this is what many researchers consider their first job. And it comes with a firm deadline that is easy to portray as an up-or-down vote: Are you a professional scientist worthy of tenure and a job, or a bum?

The author spells out several coping strategies she used. My favorite is the title: she considered this a seven-year postdoc position. On the bright side, few other jobs will guarantee you a seven year position at the end of which you either renew your contract, so to speak, or move on. I am sympathetic to this manner of thinking. When I was deciding to apply to graduate school, I considered instead becoming a laboratory technician for a year or two to really mull over the big question. Do I want to get a Ph.D.? But since I was not able to consider non-science jobs (verboten in the long science career) I thought I would get a job and a degree at the same time. Graduate school pays pretty well these days. And as long as I’m not a complete screw up, I have a job for five years right out of college in a tepid economy. Not bad.

So her redefining of the position helps dull the anxiety about the final decision. However, here is where I want to move beyond the article. She neglects to mention how failing to secure tenure is not merely a hit to the ego and being fired. It may well end one’s chances of managing one’s own lab in academia. The alternatives are: Try to get a tenure-track position at a lower tier school. Apply for teaching-only positions, which are notoriously low-paid, insecure and usually only a small part of what a talented researcher wants to do. Go to industry, where authority-adverse academics may not exactly thrive. Choose a new career in your early forties. Of course that’s an incomplete list. But failing to secure tenure is definitely a black mark on a scientist’s resume and complicates future high-powered job searches.

There are a couple other strategies worthy of noting. She worked “fixed hours and in fixed amounts.” The breakdown is there for you to read but it adds up to about fifty hours a week of work. Then of course her childcare and household duties, shared equally with her husband. Additionally, instead of cultivating influential friends who would help her win tenure, her work friends were those with whom she could talk openly and share ideas and feel comfortable.

I believe the author had a reasonable approach to her tenure-track position. She became a little Zen about the whole thing and made her research quality the product of a happy life and hard work. More successful researchers need to advocate for this approach. But at the same time, the fact that her strategies seem so novel is a comment on the unfortunate state of the scientific profession.

Despite reduced funding opportunities, graduate programs recruit and train far more graduate students than there are academic research positions. Yet most people earn a Ph.D. to remain in the field they love, academia. It’s not a perfect job, but there are serious perks to being an academic scientist. Yet while many other careers would naturally limit the training pipeline according to the demand for labor, academia seems a little stuck. The upshot is that there is fierce competition for the research jobs that are available. And competition is good. It drives innovation, which leads to novel discoveries and improvements for society. But it also drives good scientists away. It drives them toward industry (a fine choice, but a second choice for many academics), or away from research altogether. After all, being a workaholic does not necessarily correlate with being a good scientific thinker. But it is a necessary qualification for remaining in academic research.

I will end by saying: I am not entirely bearish on the future of science. Far from it, in fact. I believe that scientific funding can be increased again through the work of effective policy makers and scientist-lobbyists. The mismatch between the supply and demand of trained scientists will likely even out at some point. Academia moves slowly. I believe that by communicating with the society that supports our research, we can successfully advocate for putting a higher priority on basic science. That last part is key, in my opinion. Science does not operate in a vacuum and as long as we are supported by taxpayers it is both our duty and in our best interests to open up channels of communication with them. Doing so will likely bring additional support for the work that scientists do and that will lead to a healthier profession in the long run.

This article has inspired a slightly ranty day-in-the-life career track for scientists. I don’t feel in the mood to publish a more negative stance at the moment but I think I will return to the idea for a future post. Non-scientists are usually only presented with successful professors as their image of the profession. And usually the more photogenic, genial souls who put on a good face. But as with most careers, there is a lot of hard work involved and the peculiarities of the career path may be of interest to some. Look for that soon.

Indoor/Outdoor Gardening

Phew! This was a busy day in the garden and I've got a lot to share.

First, a belated update to Indoor Gardening. Now it's outdoors! Starting plants from seed was a resounding success. With the LED grow light setup in the laundry room, the seedlings did great. I just left the light on 24 hours a day and the plants that got the most light right under the fixtures grew quickly and strong. I was able to rotate out the strongest plants to south-facing windows and put the smaller seedlings directly under the lights to grow better.

The tomatoes in particular did really well under the lights and flourished in the window when they were repotted at about 5"-6" tall. I also had success with hot and sweet peppers, eggplant and cucumbers. My rosemary is growing very slowly, but then again I think that's just what rosemary does.

After trying to transplant some lettuces and broccoli when they were still too young, I opted instead to just sow seeds directly in the soil. My front garden became my area for all these cool-weather crops because I was far too lazy to walk over to the community garden plot to dig in the cold, wet soil. But these plants did great when sewn directly in soil and I've had my first big pile of lettuces for a delicious salad. Not surprisingly, I now have more leafy vegetables than I really want and I've tried to pawn off the lettuces to my downstairs neighbors. But it's really fulfilling to have the first harvest of the year behind me and I look forward to more the interesting vegetables of summer. I've got peas going in the front garden too which now have a couple flowers on them so they'll hopefully be producing in the near future.

We've had a pretty cool and very wet spring--the Mississippi is chronically flooding--and so even though it's several weeks past the last frost date of April 15 I haven't been brave enough to put in my warm weather crops until now. Today was a beautiful day for doing so though: warm but not hot, with some occasional cloud cover. I went over to the community plot I've rented for the summer and transplanted four tomato plants, three peppers and two eggplants while putting in some seed onions as well. Oh and a cucumber. I started the cucumber indoors although I don't think that's really necessary or even recommended. I'm not sure they survive transplanting very well, but they grow so quickly that if the transplantation doesn't work I can just sew some seeds soon.

What's really intriguing about tomatoes is that because they have evolved to vine over the ground, wherever the stem touches soil it grows new roots. So a strategy for developing a really strong tomato plant is to remove a few of the lower leaves and dig a short trench. You lay the tomato down in the trench and cover up a lot of the stem with soil, leaving just a few leaves at the top. The top will quickly orient to grow against gravity and the whole stem will turn into a new root structure that will give the aerial portions plenty of support and the ability to gather water and nutrients from a wider area. I haven't done it before, but I'm excited to see if it helps my tomatoes flourish in the summer.

Another strategy I look forward to implementing is to actively prune my tomatoes. If you've ever grown tomatoes then you know that it's so easy for them to get overgrown and even get so big they fall over. This is the problem in trying to pretend that a vine is an upright plant. But apparently an easy solution is just to prune them back, like a tree or a grapevine. Once the plant is established and tries to grow extra stems, you just pinch them off at the base. This puts more of the plant's energy into the remaining foliage and fruits to promote ripening and keep the plant from falling over under its own weight.

Hopefully my tomatoes and other warm-weather crops survive the transplanting process well enough. In truth, I should have more carefully hardened them off to survive cooler temperatures and the scorching sun. But they are so hardy right now and the weather is basically perfect that I think I'll be fine, especially as the tomatoes grow new roots.

That finished off all my indoor plants, so I've turned off the LEDs and I'll have to clean up the soggy, wet cardboard boxes that housed my plants for the last few months. I have some other plants I can start from seed--pole beans, more carrots, some herbs--but I think I'm done with the laundry room setup. It's really satisfying to finally get my plants in the ground after nurturing them for months indoors. I've only ever bought seedlings to transplant, but it seems my own plants are somehow stronger. The whole process definitely gives me a level of satisfaction I haven't known before in my gardening experience and I hope I can repeat it next year.

As a topic preview, today I hosted an outreach event at my community garden brining some plant scientists to talk about medicinal plants, domestication and GMOs. It was small, but largely successful and as always I've learned more about how to host such events in the future. That post will be up soon.

Clinton Global Initative University

Two weeks ago I had the opportunity to attend the Clinton Global Initiative University conference hosted by Washington University. While the CGI is fairly well known, I had never heard of CGI U until I saw a headline in the student newspaper at Washington University last fall announcing the conference. It's a meeting designed to bring undergraduate and graduate students from around the world with ideas to address global issues together to meet one another and receive training and support to complete their goals.

Each goal is called a "commitment to action" and is explicitly centered on how to take a grand idea and make progress toward real, measureable action. About 1200 students are invited to attend the conference. The real kicker is that the host university receives 200 of those slots. So all of us at WashU had a much easier time being accepted. It's clearly a reward for the hosting university--which has to provide a huge amount of support, logitics and infrastructure--but the upshot is that the diversity of commitments is increased because of the lower bar for entry.

My own commitment to action is based on my ongoing efforts to bring St. Louis plant scientists and community gardeners together over their common interest in developing strong food systems. In fact, that is my commitment to action. I want to bring these groups together so they can be advocates for one another. So plant scientists are engaged in their own communities, strengthening them through productive uses of public spaces. So urban agriculturalists vocally--and politically--support research to create strong crops. I think it all starts with meeting on common ground and developing mutual respect.

So that's my plan. Although I am already working toward those goals, I still haven't fully fleshed out my ideas or developed a real plan of action to make sure I'm making progress. That was what CGI U promised to offer.

The conference was held across three days, but there was really only one day full of events and workshops. On Friday, they hosted a networking event for all the attendees to grab some food and mingle with one another. Students from WashU, from other American schools and from literally the other side of the world were all there. The menu was a "Taste of the Midwest" featuring provel cheese (a fake provolone native to STL), St. Louis-style barbecue, Italian fair from The Hill, toasted ravioli and other quaint personifications of my new home city.

I wandered over to the cocktail table with the "Agriculture" sign on it--seemed appropriate enough. It turns out that wasn't an accident and I met my mentor there. I had a mentor who was supposed to guide me in my CGI U experience but as far as I could tell she just sent me emails telling me how excited she was and how to download the mobile app.

However, I did meet a woman from Palestine and was so surprised to hear her home country that I completely failed to ask her a dozen questions I might otherwise have. I've only ever met one other Palestinian to my knowledge but never one who was actually living there. Had just flown halfway around the world. I didn't even catch what her commitment was, something related to agriculture as mine is. But that was my first realization that I was playing at a serious level here.

That leads me to mention that coming from WashU, where it was so much easier to be accepted, left me with a bit of an inferiority complex during the event. A huge portion of the attendees--most of them younger than me--had commitments to assist a large population of underserved people around the world. Many of them had already made significant progress. So at times I felt a bit like the kid at the adult table, trying to follow the conversation and sit up straight but accidentally spilling mashed potatoes all over my shirt with my legs dangling uselessly a foot above the floor. Yet at the same time it was an ego boost to be on the same level as truly inspiring students, let alone being in the same room with world-renowned personalities.

The first evening followed with a plenary session. Chelsea Clinton came out and welcomed everyone, introducing the purpose of CGI U. She was followed by President Bill Clinton who spoke and then welcomed the speakers: Jack Dorsey, founder of Twitter and Square; William Kamkwamba, writer of "The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind"; Salman Khan, founder of Khan Academy; Zainab Salbi, founder of Women for Women International. President Clinton moderated the panel discussing entrepreneurship and social mindfulness. It was inspiring and fascinating--that was the goal I believe--and we all took a "class photo" and I wandered home.

Saturday was the primary day of the conference packed with panels and workshops. Unfortunately, there were really only two decisions to make during the entire event: a morning session and an afternoon session, each about an hour and a half long. The rest of the time was taken up with fixed panels covering interesting topics but they didn't directly address how to improve our commitments. The workshops I did choose to attend were amazing, and I found myself wishing I could have filled my days with them because it was impossible to attend all of them.

The morning began with a similar session to the previous evening's, moderated by Chelsea Clinton and covering many different issues surrounding women, particularly in the developing world. Then we moved on to the first open slot. I had decided to attend a panel on STEM education because a big part of my commitment is focused on public-facing science communication. It was moderated by a senior advisor in the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy and featured three women who were focused on STEM education, including one woman who was the team leader of her own commitment to action.

The panel focused on effective ways to improve science education, primarily formal science education in classrooms and universities. The discussion centered around how to attract more students, particularly young women and girls, to pursue STEM fields. All of the panelists agreed that by focusing on the social benefits of science and engineering, we would be able to engage more students, especially women who may be drawn to that purpose.

The panel concluded with a discussion at our table about our commitments and what we could do to improve STEM education. I met Melanie Bauer, a third year psychology graduate student at WashU, whose commitment centered on informal science education. I was very glad to meet a student from WashU with an overlapping interest because while networking with the hundreds of students from around the world was great, I knew I would be much more likely to follow up and collaborate with another student in St. Louis.

In fact, I met up with Melanie for lunch, completely skipping the noon presentation, and I devoured her information about how to write for the university newsletter, Scientific American and about a media fellowship from the AAAS that she was applying for. After the conference, we agreed to work together to write an essay for the National Science Foundation on ways to improve graduate education that was due a week later. We presented our idea for a new curriculum required of all graduate students to train them in communicating science to the public. We could win a cash prize come June!

The afternoon workshop was equally helpful. I thought it was the best choice from what CGI U called "skill sessions", focused on how to monitor and evaluate your commitment to ensure you're making progress. This was a real weakness of my commitment but I learned a lot. Or at least enough to get the juices flowing.

The final event of the conference was hosted by Stephen Colbert, the headlining act of the weekend (besides of course a former president, his daughter, the founder of Twitter, etc. etc.). He came out and riffed on the CGI U by presenting his own "Colbert Galactic Initiative". He then sat down with President Clinton in character for a 15 minute interview that he presented on his Monday night show. Afterwards he broke character--apparently a stipulation of President Clinton's--to talk more seriously about the issues being addressed by CGI and CGI U. Finally, students in attendance could stand up to microphones and ask wither Colbert or Clinton questions, and this portion of the event was apparently livestreamed for audiences at home.

That was basically the end. There was another networking event but I just stuck around long enough to grab dinner and then headed home. And here I'll hang my head in shame because I didn't attend the volunteering event the next morning. I should have. I told them I would. Oops.

But I was already exhausted! It was a fantastic opportunity. I only wish I had been able to attend more panels and workshops during the day on Saturday. Because despite how interesting some of the moderated discussions were, they were less directly helpful for planning my own commitment. More of an inspiration I suppose.

However, I did receive some invaluable help on monitoring the success of my commitment; on current perspectives in STEM education. I met a new friend and collaborator and we've already had a productive relationship arguing our case for more informal science communication training in graduate school. I'll be able to tell grandkids who don't care about the day I almost-kinda met Bill Clinton and Stephen Colbert. I'm very thankful to CGI U for accepting my application to attend and grateful that attending WashU at the right time gave my more modest idea a chance to be heard.

Lindbergh HS

This morning I had the opportunity to speak at Lindbergh High School in St. Louis County about GMOs. I was invited by an advanced science teacher, Bryan Cintel, after he asked around through the biology department listserv for a guest speaker.

It was fortuitous because their AP biology course was already covering biotechnology and GMOs so I was able to contribute to that unit by giving a scientist’s perspective on the matter. Even though I don’t work on GMOs myself, my work as a plant biologist brings up the topic a lot. And since I went into plant biology because of an interest in developing strong food systems, genetic engineering is a topic I’m always trying to learn more about. I’m the resident ‘plant guy’ to a lot of my friends and family so I’m used to covering everything from plant science to organic farming and Monsanto’s legal team. It just comes with the territory.

But I was excited to present to students after presenting at the Community Garden Summit a few weeks back. The students were very advanced—they had covered the cloning of genes, gene regulation, the structure of DNA and restriction enzymes among other topics. So I was able to focus more on the science and biology behind genetic engineering than I was when presenting to the more heterogeneous crowd at the Community Garden Summit. This was my first time giving a presentation exclusively on GMOs and I was happy to have the practice. I know it won’t be my last!

I borrowed a few slides from my previous presentation but I wanted to make sure I contributed some actual biology that was new to the students. They had learned about genetic engineering in bacteria, but plants are a bit of a different story and I taught them about how we use Agrobacterium to help us transform plants. Or a ‘gene gun’ when we can’t use Agro.

The students had questions ready from an assignment but of course a handful of students in each period spoke up the most and were really interested in the topic, which was great. One girl already knew about Golden Rice, which was a topic I covered in my slides. Of course, some students were interested in the ethics and legal issues surrounding the patenting of genes and whether Monsanto was in the right when they sued some farmers for patent infringement. I always try to make it clear that I’m no expert on Monsanto’s legal issues, but the fact is that I keep abreast of the information as much as I can so I do usually have something to contribute. And the students wanted my opinion on some of the other concerns surrounding GMOs, like the health consequences of eating them. I told them that it was the strong consensus that GMOs are perfectly safe to eat. But I did bring up some of the more legitimate issues that skeptics have with the technology, like the problem of ‘gene escape’ from a genetically engineered crop to a wild relative.

Mr. Cintel asked me to talk a little bit about biotech jobs as well. Although I don’t have direct experience in the biotechnology industry, GMOs and plant science in general are great to talk about in the St. Louis region. We have the highest concentration of plant scientists in the world, largely thanks to Monsanto. But we also have great non-profit institutions like the Donald Danforth Plant Science Center and of course Washington University. This gave me a chance to talk about the several different ways that students could become involved with science as a career. It’s not only academic research, but it can be industry work or work at independent research centers like the DDPSC. And I told them that a career in science isn’t necessarily limited to those with Ph.D.s. A place like Monsanto should have jobs for all educational levels where you still get to ‘do science’ at a different level.

I had a great time, even though I had to wake up an hour earlier than usual to get out to the school by 8:10. Several of the students were interested in going into science and I told them that Washington University probably has opportunities for them to do work during the summer even in high school. That’s how I got started.

I hope to speak to more students in the future. Maybe I’ll even return to Lindbergh High School to speak next year on a similar topic.

(Topic preview: I was selected to attend the Clinton Global Initiative University conference taking place at Washington University from April 5-7. My Commitment to Action continues my outreach efforts to bring plant scientists in the region together with the urban agriculture community. I’ll write about that shortly.)

Update to First Sale Doctrine

Well I wasn't expecting this.

On the 'We The People' site, which allows Americans to write and sign petitions for the White House to consider, the Obama administration has issued a formal response about the recently enacted change in the DMCA exceptions about phone unlocking.

Remember, this is the same site that got an official response from the White House about building a Death Star. It's not exactly the halls of power.

However, it's interesting because the White House, more specifically Senior Advisor for Internet, Innovation & Privacy R. David Edelman, detail their opinion that the exemption to the DMCA for unlocking one's cell phone for use on another provider should be maintained.

As a quick recap: The DMCA says you can't circumvent copyrighted software, which includes the measures that lock a cell phone to a given mobile provider. An existing exemption, granted by the Library of Congress, made it legal to do so once your contract ended, even without permission from your provider. Now, that's no longer the case. Even after a contract is up, the provider could forbid you from unlocking. And doing so on your own would be against the law.

The response to the petition specifically notes that the White House respects the "process" that gives the Library of Congress authority to alter these exemptions. It is, after all, the law. And this is, after all, the Executive Branch. But it's intriguing that they've specifically contradicted the Library of Congress' change to this exemption and recommended a role for the FCC and legislators to play in altering the details of phone unlocking. Well, don't hold your breath for legislators doing much of anything.

We'll see if this goes anywhere. So far, I haven't come across widespread reports of maniacal mobile providers chaining people to their off-contract phones. But the change in the law never really made sense anyway. The DMCA was designed to keep people from illegally ripping DVDs and CDs and distributing them without any DRM. (And boy, it did just the trick, didn't it?). Just because the software on the phone is copyrighted doesn't put this case in the same category.

Surface

Surface. The name is evocative of a blank slate, tabula rasa, a malleable slab that takes what it’s given and becomes what it is exposed to. It sounds somehow more professional, more grown up, than ‘tablet’—literally a ‘little table’. I’m not quite sure how little tables became some of our most prized possessions. It implies clunky and dumb, a resting place for other, more important things. But a surface is something changing and dynamic. It’s something you can manipulate to create something altogether new. It implies flat in the vernacular, but just think of rounded surfaces or four dimensional space-time.

I wax poetic of course. It’s fun. This is my Surface Pro review and the ideal of a surface described above is what I think the ideal is for the computer I’m typing this on. It’s an idea I’ve borrowed from David Pierce of The Verge  (an exceptional technology website). In announcing his transition toward Windows 8, Pierce described his ideal computing experience. “You have a single device that stores all your data, and you add or remove accessories and peripherals as necessary,” Pierce writes. A monitor and Bluetooth inputs at work and there’s a powerful workstation. Lightweight accessories for travel and leisure. “It's like playing with legos, assembling and disassembling different machines from the same parts depending on what I feel like that day.”

Although Pierce later found the Surface Pro did not match this ideal (“In its quest to be both, the Surface is really neither. It's supposed to be freeing, but it just feels limiting.” vis-à-vis performing as both tablet and laptop), it stuck with me. This is what I want my Surface Pro to be. This is what I think it is. Even as I type this at the end of my first week glued to my new machine, I’m still trying to figure it out. It seems to be a common sentiment among everyone but the true loyalists. The Surface is…confusing. Intriguing, in a better light. It’s a curiosity that I think will be recognized among the first devices embodying a paradigm shift in computer-human interactions. That may sound bold, but I’m not trying to announce here a new strain of AI or anything. Consider though our recent history with computers.

Computers began as centralized as possible. With the original mainframe computers, workstations were hooked up to a central computer because it was too expensive to consider purchasing every employee their very own machine. A little while later we had individual desktop computers, even personal computers in our own home. But the traditional desktop (an archaic term already—when’s the last time you saw a desktop on a desk?) was still very centralized. It was one of the most expensive and prized possessions in the home. The ol’ family computer back when my mom had to purchase two phone lines because as a doctor she could never be without phone access.

But as Moore’s law marched steadily on, computers became cheap enough to spread to every room of the house. I built my first machine in 2006 and that opened up the world of not just a personal computer, but an individual one. A year later, the iPhone was released as the ‘first’ smartphone to see widespread adoption. Suddenly powerful, personal, individual computers were now attached to us 24/7. It quickly showed signs of addiction. So now we had computers at home, at work, in our pocket. But lo! The iPad invented tablets (*ahem*) and now we had computers at home, at work, in our pocket, on the couch. Then small tablets (Kindle Fire, Nexus 7) and big smartphones (Galaxy Note II) came on the scene, each one apparently finding a new niche where very smart people had once declared a saturated market. It seemed that we were incapable of being satiated; a device for every conceivable occasion.

But whether we really recognize it as a society yet, I think we’ve become fatigued by this. It’s a sign of good things, for sure. If it weren’t for fierce competition and brilliant devices being designed and released, this wouldn’t be a problem at all. It all happened so quickly. But I think David Pierce was getting at a bigger idea here which is the potential to return to fewer devices. We need phones, so let’s make them smart. But with the advent of a hybrid OS like Windows 8, do we really need two tablets, a laptop and a desktop? That depends on your needs of course, but I think for many people they’ll find that with a suitable tablet and laptop/desktop experience in one device, the overlapping use cases will become superfluous. There’s a trend these days toward minimalism and simplification, and I think that meeting people’s computing needs and wants in a single device (+ smartphone) may fit well into that new zeitgeist.

So it is in this spirit that I took a little leap of faith and put some serious money down to be part of this grand experiment. Now, I don’t make enough to be willfully frivolous with my major expenditures. I fully intend this device to last me several years. Maybe not quite as long as my old MacBook Pro. But if I can get three years of daily use out of my Surface Pro I’d be satisfied.

But what form will this daily use take? I am still figuring that out, to be sure, but I have some idea now. And to an extent I have a vision of where I’d like it to go.

First of all, the Surface Pro is a laptop. It’s an Ultrabook really, although not branded as such. It has a capable Intel i5 processor at 1.7 GHz and 4GB of RAM. It runs Windows 8 Pro, a full version of Windows 8 that supports all legacy applications. It has a brilliant touch capable screen and a digitizer for full pen support. It has a blazing fast SSD. It’s a powerful, small laptop. Except that it differentiates itself from all other convertible/hybrid Windows 8 laptops on the market by not having a dedicated dock or hidden keyboard. No, its trick is a very sturdy kickstand and a 6mm thick keyboard/cover that snaps on and off with a satisfying click (a 3.25mm Touch Cover is available too but the Type Cover is what makes this a laptop). It most neatly fits the use cases of a laptop, albeit creatively.

Some have criticized the fixed angle of the kickstand and the less rigid keyboard cover as serious failings that compromise its primary role as a laptop. But although a fixed angle screen isn’t necessarily ideal, it's at least the right angle. And the viewing angles are generous enough to meet your needs adequately except in the brightest environments. The Type Cover takes some getting used to but it’s really a very fine keyboard. And, critically, it passes the literal test. I am typing this on my lap. What you won’t get is a crazy-angle unsteady-surface use case. It performs best on a desk, to be sure. But so does any laptop, really. This is a laptop first and foremost because it’s a portable computer useable in a variety of locations to do work.

The Surface is also a tablet. Detach or fold back the Type Cover, both fluid motions, and you are face-to-screen with a 10.6” 1080p display with 10 point multitouch and an innovative gesture-based navigational system. It’s on the thick and heavy side at half an inch and two pounds (with keyboard removed). And boy is it widescreen; this is never meant to be used in portrait mode. But on a couch where the tablet rests on your legs, it’s a very enjoyable experience. The Start Menu and navigational system are really intuitive and a big step up from swiping through homescreens filled with icons. The pen input is really nice for navigating the Desktop UI while in tablet mode. It approximates the precision of a mouse and lets you dig down into the File Explorer to change a few settings without changing positions.

To complete the vision I’ve borrowed from David Pierce, the Surface needs to fill a final role: desktop workstation. I’ll never give up my home desktop because I’ve built it from scratch (several times) and there is no substitute for dedicated graphics if you want to play video games. And I do. But for many people, and for myself at work, this machine should excel as a plug-and-play workstation driver. A larger monitor and Bluetooth keyboard and mouse requires only two plugs, power and display. Snap off the keyboard, flip out the kickstand and set the Surface next to your monitor. Now you have two screens. In my vision, the large monitor for a better Desktop experience while the Surface displays Start Menu apps like Xbox Music or People. A few key Windows shortcut key combos and Windows 8 will function seamlessly even without a touchscreen monitor. The Surface Pro is decked out with all the right specs to push two displays easily and the use of the Mini DisplayPort would even allow daisy chaining two extra monitors if you’d like. Suddenly Excel and Word work flawlessly and you regain the precision of a full mouse for delicate work like photo editing.

Unplug and snap on the keyboard to take the same machine to meetings or to a coffee shop. Rip off the keyboard to freehand some notes or doodle on the couch. Kickstand out for Netflix while cooking. Stream to your Homegroup PCs to share a quick YouTube video. Connect to Steam to play desktop-quality games at lower settings on the go. Like legos, reassembling your device to suit your needs throughout the day as your environment changes.

I’m waiting on the sale of my MacBook Pro to help fund this final realization. (I’m also waiting about a month to find out where my desk will be for four more years). But more and more I think this is the form I want to see the Surface Pro take. Make no mistake, this is first generation technology. This is the beginning. There are serious compromises and there are no shortage of confused reviewers laying them all out. But I think that many people have forgotten the compromises they make every day. Many reviewers say they’d prefer to spend the same money on a lower-end Ultrabook plus iPad Mini. Or Nexus 7. But that is a compromise that I believe people are just recognizing as such. How to sync between two or three devices. Which to bring along on what occasions. Use cases, use cases, use cases. All the decisions are draining, the power cords tangled, the OS swapping confusing.

I’m not making any hasty decisions, but since getting the Surface Pro I’ve taken a peak over at my Nexus 7 and wondered if it’s still as useful as it was before? Now I have a premium Android device in my Nexus 4. The N7 is a little pokier. But it’s small and light and great for reading in one hand. I have a hard time letting go, making this kind of simplification I’m espousing right here. But maybe in a month, or two, or six I’ll find the N7 collecting dust more frequently. Maybe not.

The transition is incomplete, but I think that the Surface Pro is a representative example of where computing is heading. A little more centralized. A little saner. With advances in technology, we’ll see a Surface-like machine with longer battery life (eight hours would be a godsend), a little thinner and lighter perhaps. I think Windows 8 is a great operating system to push us in this direction, although I’m excited to see if Apple attempts its own convergence between iOS and OS X anytime soon. And I’m excited to see the final transition to a modern UI that dispatches with the old fashioned desktop tropes that tie Windows 8 down to last decade’s expectations.

The Surface Pro is my daily driver, and I’ll try to push it to its limits to see what I can extract from it. I’ll be sure to update with my experiences and how I’ve managed to fit the Surface into my life and if it’s indeed an improvement. But every day I warm more to this bizarre device and I’m excited to see where it takes me.

 

 

 

 

 

David Pierce of The Verge

Community Garden Summit

On Saturday, I spoke with Dr. Terry Woodford-Thomas of the Donald Danforth Plant Science Center at the 4th Annual Gateway Greening Community Garden Summit. This was my first opportunity to speak about science with non-scientists in a formal setting. And it went well.

When I reached out to Gateway Greening to gauge their interest in helping me with my own event aimed at bringing plant scientists and community gardeners together, I was invited to speak at the Summit. They also asked me to help them find a professor at the DDPSC to present with me. The title of the talk was "Plant Breeding and Genetics". Although Terry works on science education and outreach full time, we were not quite sure what kind of presentation to give. We knew the attendees would be well-educated but likely without any specific knowledge of the topic. We certainly didn't want to bore anyone to death.

But it's difficult to develop a presentation plan for a group of people you haven't met on a topic you're not an expert on. After all, I have only recently begun studying plants, and I have no background in plant breeding at all. What I did have to offer was a biological background and an overlapping interest in food systems and gardening. And although we knew we had to make the presentation approachable, we also suspected that the people attending our talk--when they could opt instead to attend presentations like "Organic Gardening Methods"--would likely be interested in learning something new and challenging.

We decided to briefly review a history of crop domestication and to cover the basics of plant genetics that make plants unique and interesting, like the prevalence of polyploidy in our crops. Then, in the style of Michael Pollan's The Botany of Desire, we would tell the stories of a handful of crop species. We would discuss how they were bred and how the genetics of these species impacted their roles in our food system.

Terry already had dozens of slides from various presentations given over the years on similar topics. This was my first opportunity to begin collecting such material for future work, so I had to start from scratch. My topics included the interesting genetics of plants and then I would cover the nightshade and brassica families. Terry covered the history of crop domestication and then the cereals--corn, wheat and rice. 

I tried to think of ways to make my part of the presentation as interesting and approachable as possible without making the fatal mistake of condescending to the audience. That was my greatest fear, because I felt it would help confirm the worst stereotypes about scientists. The ivory towers and snotty attitudes and holier-than-thou high-mindedness. Frankly, scientists are only good at their job when they are honest about all that they don't know, although there are certainly individuals who could be reminded of that occasionally.

Nonetheless, without really knowing my audience or having experience with this kind of presentation before, that was the balance I strove to achieve. I wanted to the material to be understandable but to really offer something new to the audience so they felt that their time was well spent.

We had about ten people attend our presentation. As I mentioned earlier, topics like organic gardening methods competed for the same presentation slot, so it was not altogether surprising that we had a small group. Rebecca came along to support us and to learn as well--she was taking notes and asking questions the whole time! Terry and I traded off presenting our own sections and answering questions as we went.

On the whole, I was very satisfied with the presentation. The audience was curious and engaged, although there were certainly some heavy eyelids in the crowd. (I take no offense, I have been on the other end many, many times and sometimes your eyes just won't stay open.) I could sense that the presentation was dry at times and I learned that I needed to prepare more succinct and engaging ways or presenting certain topics, like marker assisted selection and the real significance of hybrid crops versus inbred lines. I believe that our crop-focused sections were the strongest, which was really the intention and is something I believe I will repeat.

The audience asked many great questions, both to clarify our points and to ask after new information. One woman was intensely interested in the gene banks that save germplasm we brought up. Others were curious about how we propagate seedless varieties. We did not discuss genetic engineering at length, but it was brought up and the only real concern expressed from an audience member was over the potential overstepping of Monsanto's legal team.

Our host, a young man (older than me) whose name I unfortunately forget, was very excited about our presentation. At the end he and I spoke briefly and he thanked us for presenting and seemed genuinely happy to have attended. I got extended feedback from Rebecca, but she's understandably biased. On the whole, I am very happy with how the summit went and I look forward to speaking on a similar topic at the Pints 'N' Plants event in June. I think it was a great first step and I intend to take many more

Indoor Gardening

For the first time, I'm able to start seedlings indoors before transferring them to the ground for spring. I've been an avid amateur gardener for a couple years now, but last year I was making the move to St. Louis at the end of May. So when we started our garden, Rebecca and I had to largely purchase established seedlings because it was already June. And hot.

But this time around, we're planning on having even more ground space and we're hoping for a milder summer. To take advantage of this, we're starting the seeds off indoors.

What we needed most of all was lights. If you search Amazon for grow light fixtures, you'll find mostly fluorescent fixtures with light bulbs for 50 bucks or more. And even though fluorescent light bulbs are reasonably efficient, we're talking about having these things on 12 hours a day for months. Right away it was clear we wanted LED lights so we didn't run up the meter. We picked up this, a two pack of 2 Watt LEDs with a combination of red and blue diodes for good growth. Less than $30, they'll last forever and I calculated their addition to our electric bill at about 19 cents. Fortunately I found a couple cheap clamp-on light fixtures at Home Depot. The lights give out an eerie pinkish glow that frankly looks unhealthy. But it's supposed to be good for the plants. 

The only place safe from our cats is the laundry room. Fortunately it's also warm because of the furnace, so we set up the lights there. We hobbled together a collection of egg and milk cartons, produce containers and other assorted fiberboard to start the seeds in. We have some small pots laying around we can transfer the bigger seedlings to before taking them outside if needed. 

Although we had a couple seed packets leftover from last season, we had to go on a major seed hunt. Fortunately the Central West End has a fantastic nursery called Bowood Farms whose cafe is good for an exceedingly nice brunch. In fact, we spent our time on the restaurant wait list looking over our seed options.

We may have gone a little overboard. We've got two tomatoes (variety of cherry strains and a regular pole tomato); two varieties of carrots; red onions; beets; broccoli; cauliflower; sweet and hot peppers; Swiss chard, spinach and kale; green beans and snap peas; and too many herbs to count. Oops. Notably absent is a summer squash. We're going to be joining the Lee Farms CSA this summer and think we'll have plenty of zucchini, thank you very much. 

We got home and immediately got started. We've got three egg cartons and a leftover plastic planter going for now. We were already 'behind' schedule on some of the cold-weather crops like broccoli and cauliflower so those went in. We've got a whole 'flat' of onions going and then we used the taller plastic planter for beets. These will go in the ground next month. If we need more space we can probably swing the lights down and grow a bigger group on top of the dryer.

It was a wet and chilly day, but already the days are getting longer and I'm excited to harvest my first-ever spring crop in a couple months. Soon we'll get the warmer crops like tomatoes and peppers going and really take off!

I'll keep posting updates on this project. Already little hypocotyls (the embryonic stem that supports the embryonic leaves, cotyledons) are poking out and they should be turning green soon. 

PC Convergence: Compromise or Destiny?

It's been not-quite three years since Apple released the first iPad. Already tablets seem ubiquitous. Apple dominated the market against lackluster Android-based competitors until the Kindle Fire came on the scene and opened up the enormous ecosystem of Amazon on a cheap, quality machine. That was barely a year ago.

Engaget

Then the Nexus 7 was born, and the age of Android tablets really began. Apple, despite famously decrying 7-inch tablets as dead-on-arrival, was forced to compete and release the iPad Mini. That's 7.9 inches, they'll have you note.

Simultaneously, Apple innovated on netbooks to create the premium MacBook Air, which led Intel to develop the new Ultrabook brand. The Air and it's Ultrabook competition brought for the first time sufficient power and utility down to small scales. Professionals could depend on one small machine for all their productivity needs.

And yet, as close as the 11.6" Air and 9.7" iPad are to one another, they face a wide gap. Despite Bluetooth keyboards, and wireless optical drives and productivity apps, no single device has claimed the niche in the middle. The sweet spot. A convergence of tablet and PC, fully capable--at least sufficient--for professional environments with the sleekness, ease of use and chic of a slim tablet. So we go on, keeping tablets at home for the couch and laptops stuffed in bags for meetings.

There are two obstacles: operating system and hardware. The operating system is what keeps Apple from success, or even competition, here. It's not an unsolvable problem, but their simplistic iOS--practically unchanged in user experience since the original iPhone--just wouldn't cut it as a PC replacement. And aside from a sleek profile, the MacBook Air doesn't offer any tablet-like amenities. It's not touch friendly. You can't use it face-to-screen, immersing yourself in a smooth experience. Even on the couch, you're separated from your device by the ever-present keyboard.

Now Windows 8 is on the scene. For the first time, it's a PC-oriented OS that is built for touch. Yes, it has an awkward duality between the modern interface and the old desktop. It's transitional. But it's a real leap forward. We don't know yet whether that leap of faith will reward Microsoft with sales and prestige, but it has helped push OEMs, led by Intel's Ultrabook brand, to explore the frontier. These machines are true convertibles, more laptop than tablet perhaps, but they are pushing the hardware frontier to see what works and what doesn't. That's innovation and it's a delight to see.

Microsoft

And of course, Microsoft has offered it's own take on convergence, the Surface. It might be the boldest attempt at inventing a new niche. So far, it's not exactly selling like hotcakes. But that may be in in large part due to the release of the Surface with Windows RT before the Surface Pro, its beefier cousin. Windows RT doesn't offer backwards compatibility to legacy Windows applications (read: no Steam). Surface Pro is a full-fledged, Intel-based offering in the same format of the Surface RT but with much more respectable specs. It's main compromise is battery life--which is no joke when trying to perfect this format. Surface Pro arrives February 9th and previews have been largely favorable, at least compared to the attention Surface RT received.

Will the Surface really define the genre like Apple did with tablets and the iPad? I doubt it. I predict the Surface acts more like a seed, much like how Google's flagship devices helped spur innovation in Android handsets. Now Android is a smooth experience running on premium devices--this was not always the case. And even though Google never got everything right, as the software writers they took the opportunity to showcase their hardware goals and push for Android done right.

It may be very much the same for Microsoft with Surface. As the authors of an innovative, if transitional, operating system, it's on them to point in the right direction and say, "Go forth!". Where the hardware ends up, perhaps as Windows 9 rolls around and finishes the software transition, is anyone's guess. I am skeptical of the convertibles that are two pieces, keyboard and screen, stuck together. One is bound to have a piece missing at a crucial time. The Surface has an interesting approach with their Touch and Type Covers that can be detached but serve as useful screen protectors in the interim. Fancy hinges have to be done right. I for one can't stand the idea of the Yoga by Lenovo.

As I look to replacing my aging MacBook Pro, and not wanting to part with two grand this time around, I am eagerly considering my options for a convergence between laptop and tablet, a touch-enabled device that is intuitive, productive and engaging. Apple will come on the scene soon, no doubt, but until that time Windows 8 is pushing forward and I am excited to see what comes next.

Endangered First Sale Doctrine

If you're on top of your mobile technology news, you may have come across reports that as of January 26th, 2013, you are no longer legally allowed to "unlock" your smartphone in the United States. Unlocking refers to removing firmware-level restrictions that prohibit the use of a phone on a carrier other than the one it was purchased from.

The major wireless carriers have a strong incentive to prevent unlocking. Carriers like Verizon or AT&T sell most of their smartphones with a very heavy subsidy, which is how you can buy a brand new iPhone for $200 instead of $650 "unlocked". Of course this is a nice incentive to have you sign a 2 year contract for at least $80 a month (the cheapest Verizon plan offered on Apple.com as of this writing--and that's a whopping 300MB of data).

Now if this is how carriers can boost sales, there's nothing wrong there. It's marketing. We're used to that.

But in an odd quirk of digital copyright law and through, of all institutions, the Library of Congress, the new prohibitions on unlocking phones appear to step over a line previously unchallenged.

The Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA) is a U.S. law that enforces international treaties regarding the regulation and protection of copyright. It grants the Library of Congress power to provide exemptions for "noninfringing uses". Copyright has traditionally, and judicially, been limited by certain key exempting principles in the U.S. The most familiar is usually called the first sale doctrine. That principle states that once a consumer legally purchases an item protected by copyright--a CD or book, for example--he or she has the legal right to pass that item on without permission from the copyright holder. It's an important tenet that allows people to share books and music and develops a robust second-hand marketplace which is crucial for a smooth economy and to prevent waste. Check out this article stub for more information.

The use of the first sale doctrine has been challenged by the development of easily copyable and transferable digital information. Now consumers can break copyright by copying their legally purchased material and sending it along without relinquishing their own version.

And now these worlds collide in a smartphone. It's a product that can only be owned by one person at a time, yet the software and firmware on it is protected by copyright. And DMCA protections specifically prohibit "circumvention" technologies except in very limited cases, like creating braille versions of books for the blind. So without a specific exemption, it is illegal to circumvent the copyrighted item--the restrictive firmware--in order to sell your phone for use on a new carrier.

CTIA-The Wireless Association, a carrier trade group, has successfully lobbied to restrict the unlocking of phones under the DMCA from now on. Their principle argument is that smartphone owners do not own the associated software, they are merely licensees. And in fact, according to the Library of Congress' interpretation of recent judicial cases, the carriers can assure that smartphone consumers are only granted licensee status by stating it's a license agreement and restricting consumers' ability to modify the software. As long as it's in the fine print, it's real.

What this all results in is a complicated mess of copyright and first sale where you own the device but not the means to make it available on the broader market. This is to protect the carriers' ability to recoup their subsidy (something that is also protected by their own Early Termination Fees). Now you have to specifically ask permission from the carriers to unlock your phone, even after your two year contract is up. It may be very likely they'll do so. But if not, you'd be breaking the law to sell your phone for use on another network.

Now the caveats and extra bits of information. As The Verge points out and as is clear in the ruling itself, this does NOT apply to jailbreaking and rooting a device. These are means to allow modifications to the basic software, like iOS or Samsung's TouchWhiz. While I believe this breaks some carriers' warranties, it is upheld as perfectly legal.

Also, this ruling does not apply to new phones purchased before January 26th (90 days after the original ruling) or to "legacy" phones--old phones that may have been unused for some time.

However, it is certainly a bizarre case where a single consumer product encapsulates the balance between critical aspects of our legal system. On one hand, copyright holders are entitled to protection under the law. On the other, consumers have the right to do with their property as they see fit. And frankly, extending the same broad class of copyright protections to restrictive smartphone firmware, well.... I'm not sure it's in the same category as protecting music and literature.

Uh oh, did that just bring up software patents? Another time, perhaps.

For more entertaining information, check out this story over at Marketplace.

A (Rainy) Bloody Sunday

Now I'm not a big cocktail guy. I'm a beer guy. I brew beer and love trying all kinds of craft beer. St. Louis is a great city for that because despite living in the giant shadow of Anheuser-Busch, STL has a thriving craft brewery scene. Schlafly of course, Urban Chestnut, 6 Row. Tons of them.

But in thumbing through this book, The Inspired Vegan by Bryant Terry, I found a great recipe for a Bloody Sunday--a Bloody Mary with beet puree instead of tomato juice. And an homage to a violent Civil Rights event.

I just happened to have beets and vodka around so it was super easy to whip up, after marinating the beets overnight. It's spiced up like a Bloody Mary and changeable to your tastes, especially the hot sauce. I might just have to pick up a cocktail shaker. It was a good use of time on a chilly, rainy Sunday. I recommend the book, by the way. I'm certainly not a vegan but the book is cohesively put together and offers great semi-gourmet menus.

Bloody Sunday

• 1/4 C. beet juice or marinated beet puree
• 1.5 oz. vodka
• 1 T. lemon juice
• 1/4 t. apple cider vinegar
• 1/4 t. hot sauce (or more to taste)
• Pinch of salt
• Pinch of pepper

Fill a cocktail shaker (or cup) with ice and the above ingredients and shake into another cup until it's all chilled. Strain into a glass. As recommended by the book, a half-pint mason jar works great.

Marinated Beet Puree

• 1 C. marinated beets
• 1.5 C water

Blend until smooth in a blender and strain into a container.

Marinated Beets

• 4 medium sized beets, scrubbed and trimed
• Salt
• 1 T. red wine vinegar (I used apple cider vinegar)
• 1 t. raw cane sugar (I used brown sugar)

Boil the beets in 3 quarts of cold water and 1 teaspoon of salt until they are easily pierced with a knife, about 25 or 30 minutes. Reserve about half of the cooking liquid and drain, then remove beet skins by scrubbing under cold water. Slice the beets as desired (it doesn't matter if they will all be pureed).

In a medium-sized bowl, combine the vinegar and sugar and enough of the reserved cooking liquid to cover the beets. Stir well to dissolve the sugar and toss with the beets. Refrigerate for at least one hour or overnight.

Science in the Garden

What do plant biologists and community gardeners have in common?

It's not the setup for a (bad) joke. It's a question I've been asking myself a lot lately. I happen to be both a plant biologist, in training at least, and a community gardener when it's warm out. But despite the obvious intersection of an interest in plants, I'm not sure where else they overlap. That's not to say that I think the two are opposed--far from it. But I do think that plant scientists and gardeners don't think about each other a lot. I think they should.

After all, many plant biologists are, like me, gardeners. We certainly all have the requisite plant-in-the-window in our offices. Gardeners and plant scientists often have strongly overlapping priorities: developing a safe, sustainable and abundant food supply. They may approach this from different directions, but I think that's a core value that should bind these unlikely siblings together.

Yet somehow modern culture keeps us apart. Science has become increasingly specialized. My teachers have told me when they were students, a biologist could sit in on another biologist's meeting and keep up. Now that some of the "easy" discoveries are behind us, the new frontier requires deeper, highly specialized knowledge. Sometimes communicating with other biologists about our work can be hard, let alone the general science community. Let alone the public. And because it's hard, and doesn't tend to bring in grant money, communicating our goals and discoveries to the public is put on the back burner. 

Maybe then it's no surprise that one of plant science's largest contributions to modern life--genetically modified foods--is seen as arcane, suspect, even dangerous. Steven Mayfield, who just visited Washington University to talk about using algae in industry, including biofuel, sat with graduate students for lunch. The way he puts it: it's our fault. Scientists' fault. He points out--accurately, I think--that many scientists naively believe that if their work is good enough, right enough, it will diffuse down into the wider culture. It will become known, accepted and lauded. Obviously that's not the case.

Just look at the science behind climate change. For decades now, the scientific consensus has been converging on a clear answer: a human-induced greenhouse effect is warming the planet. And to punctuate that, 2012 was the warmest year ever in the U.S. It was an active campaign by those who stand to lose when we regulate carbon that led to doubt. 

We need to make this a priority. Yet I know many scientists doubt the public's interest or ability to understand their work. They blame journalists for bad stories, the Media for sensationalism and a culture of anti-intellectualism for tarnishing the reputation of Science with a capital 'S'. But the response to this is not to hide in a shell or retreat. The only solution is stronger advocacy for our work, for scientific literacy and for great public education.

I've been pondering all of this because in a couple weeks I will be speaking at the St. Louis Community Garden Summit hosted by Gateway Greening. I'll be giving a presentation about plant breeding and genetics. Fortunately I'll have some help from a professor at the Donald Danforth Plant Science Center. (Fun fact: according to the DDPSC website, St. Louis is home to the highest concentration of plant biology Ph.D.s in the world. That's thanks to them, WashU and Monsanto). 

I am still working on what to cover. The crazy genomes of plants for sure. How technology can improve conventional breeding. And of course, GMOs. I have been asked to make the presentation purely educational, and not to take a side on any controversial issues. I'll do my best to the respect that. I'm honored to be invited to speak at all.

But GMOs are an important topic. And I don't think the he-said/she-said approach to controversial issues is always valid. On the issue of the health of GMOs--in my experience the main concern of skeptics--there is a very real consensus: Genetically modified foods are completely safe to eat. We've been eating them for decades and they are intensively studied and highly regulated.

I think many factors have contributed to the widespread distrust of this technology. Ad hominem attacks against Monsanto (who might be reigning in the legal team a bit). A bad job of explaining the technology. And I think most importantly: a false dichotomy between natural and artificial.  I think many skeptics feel that the 'soul' of a food is changed more by inserting a single gene artificially than by manipulating hundreds of genes naturally. 

To circle this back to the beginning: I think community gardeners and plant biologists can only gain by coming closer together. Yes, many community gardeners will be skeptical of plant genetic engineering. But with their interest in plants and a strong food supply, they could very well be great advocates for the technology if they were persuaded by its benefits. And yes, plant biologists, like all scientists, can appear lofty and unable to speak in layman's terms. But only by practicing these skills in a supportive and interested environment can they improve.

I have plans for future efforts to bring these groups closer together and I will continue to ask: What do community gardeners and plant biologists have in common? A lot more than they think.