By Keith McDowell
Travel is always the first to go. Whether due to another
effectiveness and efficiency purge, budget reallocations, or the current game
of sequestration, travel by our nation’s scientists and engineers is always
viewed as a nonessential activity and one ripe for the budget ax. And true to
form, the White House Office of Management and Budget last year on 11 May 2012
produced the latest incarnation of just such a travel restriction memorandum.
Not to be outdone or ignored, the pundits have opined,
national laboratory leaders have rebuked, university presidents have scolded,
and STEM trade journals have reported. Take, for example, the recent article by
William G. Schulz entitled The Road Less
and Less Traveled published in Chemical
& Engineering News on 25 March 2013.
Schulz emphasizes the “unintended and negative results” of
such travel restrictions including increased bureaucracy, frustration, falling
behind the curve, and the ability to attract top talent to national and
government laboratories. Do we really want the C-team managing the
cradle-to-grave timeline for our nuclear weapons arsenal? Or quoting Sandia
National Laboratories Nancy B. Jackson, a former American Chemical Society
president, from the Schulz article: “How can scientists do their work without
collaborating, brainstorming, hearing other views, and finding out how similar
problems are solved?”
Jackson goes on to add: “I don’t understand why Congress is
so intent upon doing all they can to drag us down from the number one global
position in science and engineering research. … American exceptionalism cannot overcome
a lack of support for science and collaboration among scientific peers.” True
indeed! Jackson eloquently states the obvious.
But what’s the real story behind travel restrictions and
life as a scientist facing the uncertainties of one’s chosen career path? Is it
really a path paved with such “sturm and drang?” Well, yes and no! Here are
some of my personal experiences.
It was the spring of 1979 and I was scheduled to be a
speaker at the annual Sanibel Conference hosted as always by the Quantum Theory Project at the University of Florida. Of course, the conference was
no longer being held on Sanibel Island, but at a luxury hotel on Florida’s Palm
Coast. I didn’t have any travel funds to attend the meeting, so I did what any
self-respecting scientist would do. I conned my wife into believing that the
meeting would be a fabulous vacation for her and our newly born son, then about
eight months old. She agreed, packed our gear for a beach trip, and off we drove
from Clemson, South Carolina, to the Florida coastline north of Daytona Beach.
But alas, Mother Nature didn’t cooperate. It was a cold and windy week with no
opportunity for sunbathing or even a walk on the beach. So much for that
junket!
Of course, there were other Sanibel Conferences. I
especially remember the year that I drove to the Palm Coast but stayed at a
really cheap and rundown motel on the mainland about a twenty minute drive from
the expensive conference hotel. The many motorcycles in the parking lot
accompanied by their potbellied and leathered owners should have been a clue
for me, but what the heck? It was an experience, especially the breakfast
conversion at the adjoining diner over a meal of greasy eggs, burnt bacon, and
congealed grits. Who could have guessed that the Hell’s Angels or their clones
were interested in theoretical chemical physics?
And then there was the travel office at Los Alamos National
Laboratory (LANL) during the 1970’s and early 1980’s. Upon filing a travel
request and getting it approved, one visited the travel office and received a
generous travel advance, typically in the form of a fistful of $100-dollar
bills. The game, of course, was to best one’s personal record for minimizing
travel expenses and hence maximize one’s financial return against the
guaranteed daily expense rate. And the secret: cheese crackers!
That’s right. LANL scientists were known for their ability
to survive for extended periods of time on a diet consisting principally of
cheese crackers and water. I’ve always wondered what the KGB personnel who
inspected the luggage of LANL scientists visiting Russian nuclear sites in the
Ukraine thought about those boxes filled with cheese cracker packages – not to
mention custom agents at the more exotic locations where physicists typically
host their conferences.
And then there was the infamous “skyjacking” memorandum of
the 1980’s related to travel restrictions. Unfortunately, I no longer have the
memo but it was basically a list of “do’s and don’ts” for LANL personnel
travelling around the world and how to avoid being singled out for torment or
torture by a skyjacker should such a skyjacking occur. Prominent on the list
was a comment about travelling and eating cheese crackers or other such unusual
activities that singled one out as a scientist. But, of course, my wife claimed
she could always immediately spot a scientist or engineer and she was right.
The list also contained such items as wearing mismatched
socks, reading technical journals on the airplane, engaging one’s fellow
passengers in the mysteries of quantum mechanics, or discussing other technical
matters related to the safety of the airplane. It was also strongly suggested
that one not remind fellow passengers about life in the City of Los Alamos. At
the time, laboratory employees had a lot of fun coming up with possible fake
identities we could assume for the purpose of international travel.
“Surely you jest” is likely your response, but, yes, the
memorandum really did exist pretty much as I’ve characterized it. And the
cheese crackers? You bet! I still eat them when I travel.
Travel restrictions have always been with us during times of
budgetary austerity and national security. It’s a cycle that endlessly repeats
and never ends. And for each and every scientist or engineer, it’s a story that
plays out in its own unique and sometimes humorous manner.
But for our nation, such shortsightedness is a prescription
for failure in the game of global competitiveness. As Shirley Ann Jackson, the
President of Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, recently said, we must
“invest in serendipity, because without it, there is no vitality in the
innovation ecosystem. Indeed, there is no innovation.” And that means travel to
conferences by our nation’s scientists and engineers.
Or as Alivisatos, Isaacs, and Mason stated in a recent article about
sequestration in The Atlantic: “This
sudden halt on new starts will freeze American science in place while the rest
of the world races forward, and it will knock a generation of young scientists
off their stride, ultimately costing billions in missed future opportunities.
New ideas, new insights, new discoveries – these are the lifeblood of science
and the foundation of America’s historic culture of innovation and ingenuity.”
Should we skip the cheese crackers and stay at home? I think
not.
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