'I hate physics' and Other Compliments

Probably like other physicists, I get an interesting range of reactions when I reveal my profession to other people, at a party, next to someone on a plane, in the line at a game. Here are some typical examples:

'I hate physics'

This one, unfortunately, is quite common. It is usually uttered with viciousness that never ceases to surprise me, and leaves me with a feeling that some, if not all, of the hate is intended to be transferred to the physicist (i.e. me).

It is undeniable that physics has a strong effect on many people. There are people it attracts, and there are people it strongly repels. I have always wondered, which of physics' attributes causes it most to be hated: that it makes us think, that it is abstract, that it often requires good spatiotemporal skills, that it demands thorough comprehension, that it requires mathematics, that it offers little by way of wiggle room (nothing travels faster than light) or direct emotional or physical consolation (rather the opposite: gravity does not switch off if you fall off a tall building)...

What to do when faced with such a 'compliment'? I smile and take it gracefully, try to introduce a different topic. Sometimes I succeed in countering it lightly. A serious argument, I have found, is not received well, and usually makes things worse.

You must be an Astronomer

Many people think/assume, perhaps unconsciously, that all physicists are astronomers. Because they get so much exposure to the subject in the media (more than say to solid state physics), their questions are often quite specialized (Is Pluto a planet? How big is the black hole at the center of our galaxy? Is there water on Mars?).

Over time I have found I have been forced to educate myself on astronomy in order not to be embarrassed in public with questions I did not have at least some idea of how to answer. (Excuses like 'That's not my specialty' are not well received, and erode my credibility as a scientist in the eye of the audience.) One remembers the hilarious situation in which, Walter Kohn, a physicist, had just been awarded the Nobel prize for chemistry, and was stopped on campus by two undergraduates who wanted help with their chemistry homework.

Can you turn my kid into a Genius?

A common type is a (grand)parent, one who is immediately interested in what useful information they can get from me that would turn their children into academic superstars. Sample questions: what is the one course my daughter can take at university that would give her the edge? My kid wants to be physicist, how can I convince him to become an engineer? My kid wants to be a physicist, is there a way I can channel her into patent law?

By far the most amusing question I have ever faced was at a physics conference (although not having to do directly with my profession as a physicist) where a mother (not a conference attendee, just happened to be at the same hotel) came up to me and asked if I was a professor. I said I was. She said could I please give her high school daughter some career advice, she wanted to become a Dean.

I was astonished: she didn't want to know about college, graduate school, postdoctoral studies, assistant professorship, tenure, promotion to associate and then to full professor - some of the many stages one has to go through to become a Dean. She was interested only in the final product! I asked why she wanted to become a Dean. And then came the truly flaggergasting answer, from the mother: "Because my daughter did an internship in the Dean's office, and she says that the Dean doesn't do anything".

This was very funny, because Deans are overworked (the girl probably saw the Dean at the computer all day and thought no work was happening). But it was also very disturbing - that a parent would want their child to do a job that involves doing nothing!

You don't have a real Job

This is the reaction of many non-scientists. Once they learn I am a physicist, they look me up and down as if I was an alien or someone to be pitied, and conclude I must be off my rocker to work anything but a real job (usually some kind of business like they do). These types initially express their reverence and fascination for knowledge, but soon devolve into a discussion of real estate, cars, houses, celebrities, the economy, and politics.

Let me tell you how much Quantum Physics I know

Like astronomy/cosmology, quantum physics is much discussed in the media. Once the people learned on this topic figure out that I am a physicist who works in quantum physics, they lose no time in confidently expressing their own theories of the quantum.

They tell me why everything is quantum mechanical, that the multiverse certainly exists (more about that in coming posts), how the notion of entanglement goes far beyond physics, how a quantum computer really works, why quantum physics is related to consciousness and enables astrology, etc. etc. They usually end by telling me how to carry out my own research. I actually enjoy these monologues, as I take the offered suggestions silently to their logical limits. There's usually something to learn.

Conclusion

Sometimes I enjoy pretending to be someone else by profession, like a dance instructor or a starving artist. It's a good break from being responsible (the secret to a good conversation, I have heard, is to pretend to be someone else).