Tears in the workshop

Some months ago I attended a workshop celebrating the 60th birthday of a computer scientist. This kind of events usually consist of talks given by people who are academically and/or personally close to the honoree, say former students and coauthors. A workshop is only one possibility for celebrating a scientist's life and achievements; the most common thing I have heard of is to organize the workshop and/or edit a festschrift--- a special volume of scientific articles. Sometimes there is no workshop and only the festschrift is published. Some other times the potential honoree refuses any kind of celebration.

The workshop itself wasn't very interesting from the scientific point of view; the honoree works in a field relatively away from mine, so the talks weren't that relevant to my research. It was, however, a rather emotional experience: all of the invited speakers told very nice and positive experiences about the honoree at the personal level ---the guy couldn't avoid the tears at the end.

The emotional part of the workshop made me reflect a lot. The immediate question is, of course, will I have such a workshop? Being not particularly brilliant (I consider myself a little bit above the average, but not too much) I do not have too many hopes. And then there's the issue that I am relatively young, so I should wait almost three decades before having 65 years, and being a potential honoree. So let's say I still have time to become a brilliant computer scientist (or more realistically, to get brilliant students who would have to include me as coauthor in their papers :-) ).

The really insightful issue here is that a good scientific career appears to me as something very difficult to have. Let's put aside the issue of employment (if you're reasonably smart and active you'll find a permanent job sooner than later). The thing that seems really difficult to me is to be constant during your career; to maintain the same curiosity and inquisitive spirit for years and years. That's the real challenge, I think. One hears of people who were very productive and successful in the past but that now are depressed or sad, sometimes without a good reason. And that makes you think: science is already frustrating, and if you add to that the regular frustrations of life then it could be an unbearable burden.

Perhaps more importantly is the human aspect of research. In science you're surrounded by extremely brilliant people who are well aware of that. The issue is how they manage (and project) their talent to others. As in life in large, there are two possibilities: either you find arrogant pricks or you find humble, modest researchers. I have had the pleasure of working only with people in the second group, but you can easily find people in the first one. It can be annoying. Instead, it is a joy to find experienced researchers and professors who are always available, ready to share their knowledge and learn new things. Those who are able to motivate, appreciate, and get the best from their students. Those who at the end attend (and deserve!) workshops in their honor.