Advise and Be Advised

(This post is translated to English by ChatGPT from Chinese version)

Gradually, people started reaching out to collaborate with me, wanting to learn something. Even though I’m not sure what I’m capable of, it still feels good if I can help others.

But I’m not confident. I can’t even solve many of my own problems, so how could I guide others? A friend encouraged me to try, saying I’d probably do better than many people.

“But what about being responsible to the students? What if they can’t complete the project? Their future is in my hands, but there are many things I can’t do well myself. Of course, even our supervisors often don’t manage these things well.”

We’ve already complained to each other that our supervisors are often like ChatGPT.

“People who are willing to do research always have some ideas about the future, so they should be able to accept low pay and long periods of work without obvious rewards, right? Like seeking some sort of meaning amidst the emptiness of reality.”

At this point, we both chuckled at the same time. He continued, “I asked my supervisor this question, and he said that usually, as long as you give students a project, something interesting will come out of it.”

We both know this is just a way to comfort ourselves. We’ve heard plenty of stories about students being given unsuitable projects, either wasting years of their time or leaving academia altogether.

“Life is truly strange. It seems like everyone chooses their future with a kind of inexplicable impulse. I was the same at the beginning, and I guess you were too.” I smiled and added, “Every time I see young kids excitedly talking about what thrills them, even when what they say makes no sense, I can’t help but feel that letting this kind of blind impulse guide our life choices—life really is cruel.”

“That’s just how life is. We have to create meaning for ourselves.” His expression seemed a bit more serious.

Sometimes, you’ll find that you do need to start filling in the gaps for others, to create meaning for them. (For me, science is about creating meaning, so doing something where the meaning is obvious from the start feels a bit dull.) It’s easy to spot flaws, but finding strengths is not so simple. The hardest part of doing research is identifying something interesting amid all the complexity. Most researchers, after their PhD or postdoc, begin repeating what they already know. They start evaluating your work based only on their past experiences. As a student, you understand your supervisor means well, but their worldview and background limit their judgment. This affects you, makes you less confident, and you gradually get used to justifying yourself, even assuming that your ideas will be rejected.

So, as a supervisor, the most important skill is discovering value. I try to see the bright spots in someone else’s ideas from their perspective, but it’s not easy. Recently, someone came to me with an idea that didn’t quite match my taste. I wanted to help, but I couldn’t resist using my own judgment to tell them, “People won’t like this kind of idea.” It wasn’t until after the discussion that I realized this comment might have been more hurtful than if they had simply made a mistake. Honestly, I wasn’t familiar with that field because I’m not interested in it, so it’s hard for me to make a fair evaluation. So how could I guide them? Technical details aren’t the core of research; the key is the story behind it. And because I was too stuck in my own preconceptions, I couldn’t accept a story I didn’t like.

The same goes for reviewing papers. Whether being reviewed or reviewing someone else’s work, it feels like people already have a judgment in mind—an idea of the paper’s level—before writing their feedback. Sometimes it seems like the comments don’t mean much; the opinions were decided from the start.

When I was younger, I was arrogant. I couldn’t stand some of the already famous people who kept repeating vague, empty words. They weren’t honest enough about the issues, and their views lacked boldness. Now, looking back, maybe it’s because, over time, as they guided more students, they gradually lost themselves, giving up their own stance to help others.