Early on in my career as a headhunter, I became interested in the dozens of qualities that make top scientists stand out. Then, a conversation with one of my contacts shifted my thinking. “Success in the biotech industry, like any pursuit, seems to boil down to no more than about a half-dozen things,” Leo Kim told me more than 2 decades ago. He was the vice president of a biotech company at the time, and I frantically wrote down his words as he piled great advice on top of great advice. After our discussion, I began to think about the topic in a different way. I had been looking for dozens of different factors, but is it really just a handful of core traits that make the difference?
What do emotional intelligence and authenticity have in common? Everything. In its most stripped down form, being emotionally-intelligent means being an authentic person.
Yet authenticity doesn’t come natural, especially for leaders and managers. Sometimes it’s easier to not deal with emotional matters at work, as confrontations can get ugly and dramatic. It’s so much more convenient to sweep things under the rug.
The avoiding approach is also a recipe for disaster because it leads to more drama and more conflict.
If this strikes a chord and you’re on the path to growing and developing your leadership skills or emotional intelligence, listen up.
Why do scientists with similar backgrounds and abilities often end up achieving very different degrees of success? A classic explanation is that academic achievement exhibits a “Matthew effect”: Early successes increase future success chances. We analyze data from a large academic funding program that present a unique opportunity to quantify the Matthew effect and identify generative mechanisms. Our results show that winners just above the funding threshold accumulate more than twice as much funding during the subsequent eight years as nonwinners with near-identical review scores that fall just below the threshold. This effect is partly caused by nonwinners ceasing to compete for other funding opportunities, revealing a “participation” mechanism driving the Matthew effect.
Two college majors are better than one. That is the conclusion that researchers are beginning to reach.
Prior research has already shown that students who double major can earn more than peers who majored in only one field.
New research we conducted recently shows that double majors fare better in another way as well: They are more innovative.
I am surrounded by workaholics.
At every college where I have taught, the unspoken mantra is that you must always have a project to work on — a new book, a journal article, a series of poems, or a grant proposal. In the faculty mailroom, the most common question is “What are you working on?” An unheard-of response is “Nothing.”
My adjunct colleagues are trying to publish themselves into a tenure-track position, while the tenure-track faculty members know that if they do not publish their way to tenure, they are done. Then there is the tenured faculty. They set the pace for everyone else by keeping their foot on the gas. Some of these people are in their 70s, with bags under their eyes, and CVs as long as Jack Kerouac’s scroll of On the Road. Yet, they never stop. As one of my colleagues once told me, “Academia is like a pie-eating contest where the reward is more pie.”