I’ve been contacted by recruiters rather frequently since about my sophomore year of college with perhaps 4 or 5 jobs a year, maybe 2 of which will be outright job offers and the others invitations to interview. A fairly significant part of this is my resume’s rank within search engines for keywords that recruiters seem to target (not deliberate, but it does demonstrate that buzzwords are a necessary evil), but more recently, I’ve started getting contacts on social networking sites such as MySpace and Facebook. Since I’m not exactly the typical demographic of these sites, my profile tends to highlight things I find worthy in my own life, such as my research efforts, and as a result conveys a very positive image (something that will diminish in effectiveness, as other people are deliberately, and usually insincerely, replicating this behavior now that they’ve finally caught on to how well it works). However, there are two other significant variables that have increased quite sharply in the last few months – the reputation of the companies and the frequency of contact.

It began with Google. Then AT&T contacted me. Then Exxon-Mobil. Now apparently someone is trying to hook me up with GE. I’ve never been contacted by such large companies before, and never at the one-a-week rate they seem to be coming in at now. Maybe it has something to do with my recent MS?

It’s a good thing, but some of these offers are tempting when I’m resolved to finish my Ph. D. (as quickly as possible, since I’ve accepted that I will never be challenged by any process other than admissions in formal education, stellar credentials notwithstanding). And how would I respond once I did graduate? Do I play hardball? Try to negotiate the largest salary possible by playing the offers off on each other? My goal has never been to make a lot of money, except as required for other goals (such as Project Polymath, which is going to require a lot of funding). On the other hand, I have a very acute sense of how much my skills are worth and I can’t stand the feeling that I am being exploited. I have over 15 years of programming experience at 22 and two degrees with awards up the wazoo to prove it, for Pete’s sake! I’d like to think that people don’t see my credentials and immediately think “cheap college labor”. That’s just insulting; my accomplishments are the best testament to my skill because they indicate not only what I can do, but what I’ve already done.

Today I finally resolved the issue with my diploma; the administration simply forgot to mail it despite the mailing fee that I paid. This degree, granted on August 31, 2007, one year and three days after enrolling, symbolizes the completion of the second step of my training to become a mediocre scientist. Now all that remains is for me to complete my Ph. D. as quickly as I can so I can leave Philadelphia for good (good riddance!), detach myself from the paper mill, and start doing my own research again.

“But Temple’s niche, what sets Temple apart from everybody else, is its alumni,” Reeves added. “Temple grads have moxie. They are self-starters hellbent on making their own way in the world. Nothing has been just handed to them. Ever. They have that special pride that comes when success is hard-earned, and Temple is proud to have played a part in their success.” — Temple News.

This is so true on so many levels.

Sometimes it almost feels as if I was born into the wrong time period (although any earlier and I probably would have died in childbirth, lacking modern medical care – a debt I consider repaid, given what I’ve already done within the medical field and what I intend to do if I am permitted). I latch on to fundamentals, which I feel are fairly timeless, while everyone around me tends to flock to whatever the new hot thing is. I seek expert proficiency in more than one area while everyone around me emphasizes hyperspecialization. I consider any knowledge better than none, while everyone around me (scientists anyway) emphasizes a skepticism that often discards useful theories (not mine, which are reasonably received within the “scientific community”; this is a broader complaint). I feel most productive when I am working alone (communication very rapidly becomes the dominant factor in the amount of time required to accomplish something, as I’ve seen over and over), while everyone around me emphasizes teamwork (which has almost invariably resulted in the majority of the work falling on me anyway, except now others get to take some of the credit – usually most of it, if I’m not far enough on the totem pole yet). I cannot abide the prolonged existence of reparable suboptimality in systems such as science, while everyone around me seems content to complacently follow the status quo. I can’t tolerate decisions made without justification through reason, while everyone around me seems to think the issue irrelevant. I constantly seek challenges and am rebuffed in my search, while most people seek simply to avoid challenges.

I would like to see a society governed more by self-determination and ability than a stratified hierarchy often governed by a capricious elite. But I’m about 350 years too late for this, and it gnaws at me sometimes.

Isn’t it funny how one is content to simply deal with the foibles of a field, until one realizes that it should not be this way, it should be that way, and then it becomes a constant source of anguish that one’s vision is being prevented from being actualized by meaningless bureaucracy?

Or is that just me? Maybe that’s why society and I don’t usually see eye-to-eye. The idea, the thought, the content, the meaning must come first, and yet society clings so tightly to the status quo that it admits no improvement on sheer principle! This is what Ayn Rand was talking about in Anthem.

If you’re going to buy a huge plasma TV and leave it on all day long, even when you are not there, please don’t complain about your energy bills. I don’t want to hear it.

I’ve finally found the point of equilibrium from which I can balance all of my tasks. The key is to look back on past accomplishments and extrapolate to the future, rather than focusing first on the future and attempting to gauge progress based on a perceived (and often wrong) rate of growth.

For someone who has accomplished something extraordinary approximately once every four years since the age of 8, this works well, despite the enormity of my goals.

…And project polymath continues onward.