 |
|
|
Feeling overworked? That's probably because
you are. A new report, "Overworked Faculty: Job
Stresses and Family Demands," finds that the average
workweek for academics is 50 hours-plus, and a third
of you put in more than 60 hours a week. Some of the
extra time may be self-imposed by professors who enjoy
their work and want to ensure they're performing
at acceptable levels. But there's no doubt that
academics also feel time-squeezed by job demands, including
research, publishing, classroom time, and endless meetings.
Jerry A. Jacobs, a University of Pennsylvania sociologist
who co-wrote the report—which is based on Department
of Education statistics—thinks most professors
are overworked mainly because of increasing demands.
Those who work the longest hours report the most job
dissatisfaction. "The common view that academics
work such long hours because they love their work so
much does not fit with that finding," he says.
Other possible factors include poor time-management
and technology making "it hard to turn off the
constant flow of information." One positive result
of long workweeks: Professors who put in the most hours
are the most productive. The study didn't, however,
measure the quality of their work. "In general,
it's assumed that there is a correlation between
publishing more" and quality, Jacobs says. One
bright spot is the flexibility of academic schedules
and the ability to often work from home.
—Thomas K. Grose
|
The University of Southern California's
(USC) Viterbi School of Engineering is creating a center
to not only help academics across the campus commercialize
their research but to teach engineering students the
basics of the commercial fruits of their labors. Footing
the bill for the $22 million institution is hugely successful
venture capitalist Mark Stevens, who earned a B.S. in
electrical engineering and a B.A. in business at USC,
as well as a master's in computer engineering.
He's now a partner at Sequoia Capital, which helped
finance the startups of such tech stars as Google, Yahoo!,
and Cisco: companies that all had their genesis in campus
labs. Locating the Mark and Mary Stevens Institute for
Technology Commercialization (SITeC) within the school
of engineering makes the USC technology transfer program
unique. Too many engineers "know how to build
a widget, but they have no idea how to build a company,"
Stevens says. The processes of patenting, manufacturing,
selling, and marketing often are mysteries to engineers
who learn it "by accident, or by osmosis, or just
on their own. The learning's not very structured
and formalized." And he hopes the center will
change that for USC engineering graduates. The institute
will stress an interdisciplinary approach, which Stevens
says is the future of most campus research. He hopes
the institute will take "ideas from the business
school, ideas from the engineering school, ideas from
the cinema school, or the medical school" to develop
a range of technologies. Grateful as USC undoubtedly
is for Stevens's generous gift, it stresses that
neither he nor Sequoia will receive special consideration
in the commercializing of promising USC research. —TG
|
Using off-the-shelf sensor technology, engineers
at the Oak Ridge National Laboratory in Knoxville, Tenn.,
are developing a national system for issuing warnings
of chemical, biological, or radiological attacks by
terrorists. Packages of sensors would be placed on buildings
and cellphone masts to gather data on a local and regional
basis. And those local systems would be linked together
to form a national network. "Think of it like
the Internet," explains Frank Denap, manager of
the SensorNet program. The system would have two components.
Interdiction: Trying to detect dangerous materials at
choke points—doorways or Interstate highway weigh
stations—before they can be let loose in the atmosphere.
And consequence management: If something nasty is detonated,
getting the pertinent information to law enforcement
officials pronto. Sensors would measure atmospheric
conditions like wind direction to estimate the size
potential of any noxious plume and where it's
likely headed. Oak Ridge researchers are developing
algorithms to quickly turn all the data collected into
useful information. They're also setting standards
so that all sensors are compatible with the system,
regardless of their manufacturer. The technology is
available, but how soon the network could be up and
running depends on funding. And, Denap admits, it's
anybody's guess how much the whole thing could
cost. —TG
|
 
It's called the Brunt Ice Shelf. It's
located at the bottom of the globe, in Antarctica, and
it's easily one of the most inhospitable places
on earth: Average daily temperatures midsummer are around
23 degrees Fahrenheit. The mercury drops to an average
(and icy) -22 degrees in winter, when about 5 feet of
snow accumulates. But for nearly half a century, the
British Antarctic Survey has operated the Halley Research
Station on this no-man's land, conducting cutting-edge
environmental research. The station has a year-round
staff of 16, which swells to 52 during those balmy summer
months when temperatures creep past 0 degrees. Given
the harsh conditions, it's not surprising that
the station needs to be replaced from time to time.
The current facility is the fifth. And the Survey hopes
that its successor—Halley VI—will be in
place by late 2008. Complicating the plans: There is
only one major resupply mission each Antarctic summer,
which begins in late December. The Survey wants the
new station to last about 20 years, be aesthetically
stimulating and functionally efficient, have minimal
environmental impact, and cost no more than about $37
million. Oh, and it would be great if it were mobile,
too. The shelf is slowly inching out to sea and each
year calves off huge icebergs. They'd like to
be able to move it from harm's way if the edge
gets too close. To find the right engineers and architects
to handle such a daunting project, the Survey concocted
a design contest. Some 86 companies entered the competition.
The competitors were whittled down to a shortlist of
six, and in November, the Survey's panel of experts
picked three finalists: Buro Happold (engineers) and
Lifschutz Davidson, for a series of three flattened-tube-like
and linked buildings on legs; FaberMausell (engineers)
and Hugh Broughton Architects, for a complex that looks
like two Star Wars battle machines; and Hopkins Architects
and Expedition Engineers, for a pair of "walking"
buildings. Each team made a site visit to the shelf
in January, and it's expected all three designs
will be updated and enhanced. The panel, however, won't
select a winner until September. —TG
|
AUSTRALIA—A declining interest in engineering
careers is a growing concern in this country, and the
government recently launched a "national skills
audit" to find out how serious the problem is.
Australia currently has 37 engineering schools, and
at the start of the 2004 academic year, there were 1,700
unfilled spots in engineering courses. Three schools
say they may soon discontinue their programs. A staffing
shortfall in the red-hot IT industry can be only partly
solved by immigration, and experts fret that further
growth will stall unless more Australians decide to
pursue engineering or science degrees. University research
is suffering because would-be graduate students see
greater potential in the private sector, with many fleeing
to better-paying jobs overseas. "The United States
continues to compete aggressively here for scientific
personnel to fuel its economy," says Fiona Wood
of the University of New England in New South Wales.
—Chris Pritchard
|
 Curious
Minds: How a Child Becomes a
Scientist, Edited John Brockman; Pantheon Books
Are great scientists born or made? Editor John Brockman
asked 27 prominent scientific experts to relate in detail
the childhood experience that made them decide to put
on a lab coat. The result is Curious Minds: How
a Child Becomes a Scientist. It's an entertaining
read that proves there's no single path to scientific
greatness. Physicist Lee Smolin was suffering from a
broken heart, so he picked up a tome by Albert Einstein
to take his mind off his suffering, and got hooked.
Stanford University biologist Robert Sapolsky found
his calling after arguing a biblical passage with a
rabbi. London School of Economics psychologist Nicholas
Humphrey recalls growing up in a large extended family
that on both sides was crowded with top-flight scientists,
including his grandfather, the Victorian engineer Herbert
Humphrey, whose many inventions included a one-man submarine.
Psychologist Steven Pinker warns that childhood memories
often are somewhat embroidered and suggests that all
the stories—his own included—be regarded
with some skepticism. Perhaps. But Curious Minds proves
that great scientists can also be great storytellers.
—TG
|
Basketball is a physical game, but it also requires
keen cognitive skills. Top players are constantly making
instant decisions, analyzing opponents' moves
as well as teammates'. Now an Israeli startup,
Applied Cognitive Engineering (ACE), is marketing a
computer game that teaches players how to sharpen their
mind game just as they practice to improve their physical
skills. IntelliGym is based on software first developed
by Daniel Gopher, an industrial engineering professor
at Technion-Israel Institute of Technology, to help
train Israeli fighter pilots. ACE, which has enlisted
Gopher as a consultant, realized the cognitive skills
needed by pilots and cagers were somewhat similar. It
claims IntelliGym improves player performance within
six to eight weeks. Early in the game, when players
are strong, they tend to make decisions logically, but
later on when they're tired, their decisions tend
to come from the gut. The new software trains them how
to act on instinct. —TG
|
When it comes to protecting personal information
like medical, financial, and library records, the federal
government stumbles badly. That leaves the job to the
states, which have a mixed record when it comes to safeguarding
private data, says privacy rights advocate Robert Ellis
Smith, publisher of the monthly newsletter, Privacy
Journal (www.privacyjournal.net).
The newsletter's website publishes a color-coded
map—the result of 10 years of research and updated
regularly—that ranks the 50 states by how rigorous
their privacy laws are, placing them into one of five
tiers. Top tier states include California, Wisconsin,
New York, and Illinois. Among the second tier states
are Georgia, Oklahoma, and Maine. Bottom - ranked states
include Texas, Missouri, Delaware, and Mississippi.
The absolute worst state: Wyoming. It has no protections
for Social Security numbers, bank accounts, library
records, or medical records including genetic data,
and has no right-to-privacy law on its books. Rankings
are not set in stone. New Hampshire, for instance, recently
moved to the second tier after enacting tougher medical-law
protections and some limited safeguards on Social Security
numbers. Smith blames "corporate lobbyists"
in Washington, D.C., for defeating or diluting federal
legislation to erect some protections. He notes that
some particularly interested industries, including list
brokers and credit bureaus, were major contributors
to President George W. Bush's successful re-election
campaign. State lawmakers, he surmises, rely on a smaller
and more diverse base of contributors, so are more immune
to lobbying, which is why a fair number of states have
strong to good privacy laws. A big concern is that without
safeguards, identity theft crimes will continue to grow
largely unabated. —TG
|
 The
Smithsonian Institution's new National Museum
of the American Indian is an amazing edifice. The five-story,
450,000 square- foot structure's outside walls
are undulating bands of roughcast limestone, the color
of prairie honey, that connote the wind-sculpted canyon
walls of the southwestern United States. Its pièce
de résistance, however, is the gravity-defying
slab of limestone that hangs, unsupported by visible
columns, 130 feet over the main entrance. But though
the $200 million NMAI—which opened last fall—is
a beautiful addition to the National Mall in Washington,
D.C., its construction required several feats of engineering
derring-do. The overhang, for instance, is a limestone-clad,
V-shaped 750-ton steel arm connected to a massive steel
beam that's sunk into a 30-foot hole. The first
version of the arm was too heavy and it took engineers
four months to solve the weight problem. "It was
like making a diving board that only King Kong could
flex," V. George Conard, a vice president of Clark
Construction Group, told the Washington Post.
Other hurdles included slotting in a massive steel dome
atop the building's atrium, and ensuring that
the wavy, curving walls of concrete lined up. Clark
had 21 engineers on site to check the walls' geometry.
To "save time," the building's basement
hole had been dug several years before construction
began. But the hole actually caused delays because years
of wind and rain left the bottom covered in a thick,
soggy "black muck." Sand, dirt, and gravel
by the truckloads were required to solve that problem.
 Not
only is the NMAI an engineering marvel, but it owes
its existence to an electrical engineer, George Gustav
Heye, a turn-of-the-century railroad magnate and investment
banker. Most of the museum's 800,000 artifacts
and 125,000 historical pictures came from his private
collection. Heye (pronounced "high"), collected
his first item, a deer-skin shirt, in 1897. And what
started as a hobby became an obsession. When he died
in 1957, Heye had accumulated more than a million items.
Although Heye was mostly unconcerned with the plight
of Native Americans, if not for his passion, much of
this historical record would now be lost. —TG
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
