What Does It Take to Adapt to a New Lab and New Rules?

It’s incredible how the atmosphere within the same institute can change, from one door to another, from one building to another… In my previous lab, there was ample space and silence, so quiet that my ears sometimes buzzed. 

If my boss had any sense, it would’ve felt like a sanctuary. The people were mostly focused on computers, mostly men — that was the common profile.

And then there was me, bouncing tirelessly on my ball in front of my laptop, making trips for more tea every hour. Without me, the room would’ve been as still as a morgue — and it probably looks that way right now.

But since I moved to a different lab (as a Research Assistant) and a different building, things have changed. It’s an entirely different scene.

Now, it’s filled with women, rooms crowded, doors wide open, constant hustle and noise — it’s hard to concentrate. You can see the different working styles immediately; there are more experimentalists and fewer people focused on modeling and calculations. 

When I work, my mind is always running: I analyze what I read, organize information, design models, and form hypotheses based on what experimentalists have shared with me (even though they often struggle to explain gaps in the data). 

It’s meant to be something substantial, innovative, and crucial, yet unexplored until now. In one word: just research.

I can tolerate the noise to some extent, but it’s a challenge to work like this for 40 hours a week. A bit more, and I might become a Zen master. According to Jahncke, Hygge, Halin, Green and Dimberg (2011), Journal of Environmental Psychology, working in a noisy open-plan environment measurably impairs working memory and increases fatigue compared to working in low-noise conditions.

How Am I Adapting to a Female-Dominated Environment?

Another aspect is that I’m adapting to an environment of women. Ever since high school, I’ve been in math-physical classes, and particularly after moving from Bielsko-Biała to Katowice, guys dominated the majority of my surroundings (in my class, the ratio of men to women was 26:10). According to Kanter (1977), being one of few women in a heavily male-skewed group tends to push people toward exaggerated conformity to the dominant group’s norms just to fit in.

Not to mention college, where women were only around 20%. In such circumstances, it’s tough not to develop more masculine patterns of behavior. 

I see now that, compared to my lab colleagues, I tend to be more independent. I prioritize personal development for maximum efficiency in the shortest time, and less about feeling comfortable at work and engaging in casual chitchat in the morning.

I prioritize progress over making friends, and I keep a bit more distance from people. In my previous lab, I was highly sociable, and now, it’s quite a change, making me feel like the ultimate nerd. According to Methot, Melwani and Rothman (2017), prioritizing task focus over workplace friendships is a real trade-off, since close work friendships carry both emotional benefits and costs depending on how they’re managed. 

It’s not that one style is better than the other, but I see the core difference and realize I’m somewhere in between. It’s fun to stand out, but figuring out how to make it work in this situation…

It’s challenging. I’m thinking hard about it, but no solutions are coming to mind. I guess I’ll just have to toughen up and adapt to having a different approach than the rest.

What Were My First Impressions of My New Boss?

However, the new boss is really welcoming, and so far, he’s been impressing me. Recently, I brought up some questions that led to an unexpected discussion about awareness and attention, and the role of the thalamus in these processes. According to Whyte, Redinbaugh, Shine and Saalmann (2024), published in Neuron, the thalamus plays a key role in both the arousal state and the specific contents of conscious experience. 

I’m not quite sure why so many people get excited about the concept of consciousness. All humans have it, as do some animals.

It’s probably a natural outcome of the brain’s complexity, as it analyzes the environment and eventually notices itself. A significant branch of neuroscience has emerged around consciousness, and it’s engaging to discuss it at times. 

It’s a bit like being back in high school, philosophizing while getting paid considerably better than philosophy professors. And it might get even more interesting.

The European Human Brain Project recently secured 1 billion euros in funding, and Obama announced a 3 billion dollar funding for the American Human Activity Mapping project. It’s becoming intriguing; let’s see what the EU has to say.

How Does Depression Come To Life in Human Mind?

If I’m discussing what doesn’t interest me, perhaps I should talk about what does. Admittedly, I’m relatively new to this field to definitively state my future plans, but I’m genuinely intrigued by what sets individuals apart — something unlike consciousness.

I wonder why some people are more intelligent or content in similar life circumstances, while others aren’t. In my view, relative satisfaction should be the default state. 

So, if someone struggles to maintain this state and consequently falls into clinical depression, a condition where the nervous tissue gets irreversibly damaged, it’s because of a suboptimal way of responding to external stimuli. The question is, where does the root cause lie? The brain is vast from a neuroscientist’s perspective… 

However, I firmly believe that the cause is a breakdown or incorrect analysis of information somewhere along the path before sensory signals return to the cortex and thoughts are formed based on them.

A tougher question: where along the path? But an even tougher question is: why hasn’t anyone tackled this issue so far? When I realized this, I was taken aback.

There are numerous labs delving into highly specific problems, such as the auditory system of fruit flies. But no one is addressing such a fundamental question as mine. 

The reason is simple: scientists prefer certainty. A fruit fly can be dissected, neurons stimulated one by one, and observations made. In the case of a human, you have to rely on your instincts, as too little is understood to build a neuron-by-neuron model.

While the Human Brain Project is making an effort, I can tell them this: good luck. It’s unlikely to succeed.

Why? That’s a different discussion, but trust me, this project is a good idea only on paper.

What Can Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Story Teach About Persistence?

Anyway, I mention this because I’ve been delving into Arnold Schwarzenegger‘s biography entitled “The Total Recall” and find a certain similarity in thinking. As a teenager, Arnold knew he wanted to go to America and become famous, though he didn’t know how.

He got into bodybuilding and quickly excelled at it. The problem was that in the 1960s, bodybuilding was seen as odd and bodybuilders as caricatures. It didn’t seem like being Mister Universe would help when he first landed in the US — as an immigrant with limited English, competing in shrimp-sized contests. 

And yet, he achieved fame and glory. Why? Because he believed bodybuilding was an art and deserved more recognition.

He tirelessly promoted the sport, organizing events, speaking to the press and television, convincing influential individuals that bodybuilding is an art form. It took him around a decade, but he succeeded. According to Duckworth, Peterson, Matthews and Kelly (2007), sustained perseverance toward a long-term goal, what they call grit, predicts achievement even better than talent alone. 

I also have my goals, perhaps not on the same scale, yet ambitious, and I see a parallel in approach. You have to start somewhere.

So, I’ve written a paper sharing my thoughts, and I hope it’ll be published by July. I’m taking a poster to a conference in Paris and will do my utmost to convince as many people as possible to read it.