[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] from their peers than from their faculty. The ethos at Harvard catered to intellectualism and further discour- aged me from any inclination toward the practice of medicine. Re- search was portrayed as the most esteemed of medical endeavors, a state of grace to which all should aspire (much to the annoyance of many of my classmates, who understandably had thought that medical school was mainly about becoming a doctor). So I sought out research experience in a neurobiology laboratory, but was rebuffed because of Accidental Scientist 45 my inexperience. I became ambivalent about continuing in medical school, yet at a loss for an alternative. Finding Research During my second year in medical school, two pathologists rescued me from my dilemma. Benjamin Castleman offered me a year of inde- pendent study in his department at Massachusetts General Hospital, and Edgar Taft of that department took me into his research labora- tory. There was little hope that I could do any substantive investiga- tions that year, and I did not. But I became a practiced pathologist, which gave me an immense academic advantage in the ensuing years of medical school. I found the leisure to marry. And I was riotously free to read and think, which led me to a new passion: molecular biol- ogy, which was then just beginning its triumphant sweep through medical science. I have never had such autonomy before or since, and I credit the autonomy for making that year the most important in my life (there was also my marriage, of course). I began to teach myself what I might need to know to become a sci- entist. I did this mainly by making regular visits to the premier medi- cal bookstore in Boston and bringing home haphazard assortments of books, which I read according to whim. Kathryn and I were living on her slender income as a public school teacher because Harvard had cancelled my scholarship when it learned of our marriage spousal income, however scant, was regarded as a due substitute for Harvard s benefaction; the university thought it sufficient that I retain the title of National Medical Scholar, without the stipend. But once within the confines of that bookstore, I became oblivious to budget. I had initi- ated a mania for books that has never slackened, and a selective disre- gard for frugality that has served my mania well. I still have all of the books acquired in that year. Few are now worth the paper on which they are printed, but they stand on my shelves as mementos of a turn- ing point in my life. Self-instruction follows an honorable tradition, even when as un- disciplined as my own. I once heard Freeman Dyson remark that he 46 Accidental Scientist [To view this image, refer to the print version of this title.] Laboratory Still Life No. 4 by Tony Cragg, 1988. (Reproduced by permission of Crown Point Press.) had learned much more about science as a child from reading books and visiting museums, than from formal instruction.5 Granted, this might not work for others: Dyson has never for a moment been a mere mortal. Indeed, looking back over my own career and its failures, I cannot help but wonder whether I have suffered unduly from being an autodidact in almost everything that I tried to master, from research to fly fishing. Might formal training have made me better? I believe I know the answer, and it is disquieting. Whatever its limitations, my year of autonomy set my course to- ward research. And I was gradually becoming shrewd. I recognized that molecular biology had advanced far beyond my existing capabili- Accidental Scientist 47 ties, that its inner sanctum was not accessible to one so unsophisti- cated as myself, that I would have to find an outer chamber in which to pursue my passion. I found animal viruses, those tiniest of creatures that can wreak such havoc with human health the annoyance of the common cold, the global mortality of influenza, the horror of small- pox, the modern plague of AIDS. Animal viruses came to my attention through an elective course taken when I returned to my third year of medical school. Elmer Pfefferkorn, at the time an unsung instructor who taught the course, took me into his miniscule laboratory and put me to work. Elmer soon rose to great distinction in his field and eventually became chairman of the Department of Microbiology at the Dartmouth School of Medi- cine. I readily concede that my work with Elmer contributed nothing to either of those achievements. From the course, I learned that animal viruses were ripe for study with the tools of molecular biology, yet still accessible to the likes of me. From Elmer, I learned the exhilaration of research, the practice of rigor, and the art of disappointment. I began my work with Elmer in odd hours snatched from the days and nights of my formal curriculum. But an enlightened dean of stu- dents gave me a larger opportunity when he approved my outrageous proposal to ignore the curriculum of my final year in medical school so that I could spend most of my time in the research laboratory. The only requirement was that I explain myself to the chairs of the various departments whose offerings I would be ignoring. That made for some interesting interviews. But no one blocked my way. (I realize now that the dean had, to a modest extent, passed the buck. But no matter: it worked for me.) In the end, I completed only one of the eight or so formal courses then required of fourth-year students. Flexibility of this sort in the af- fairs of a medical school is rare, even now, in this allegedly more lib- eral age. In most states (California included), it would be a statutory impossibility because of legislative requirements that constrain the medical curriculum in ways that defy reason and wisdom. It has been more than thirty years since Christopher Jencks and David Riesman concluded that  there may be almost no causal relationship between learning what is taught in professional school and doing well as a pro- 48 Accidental Scientist fessional practitioner. 6 This is an insight that I can affirm, but that medical education in the main continues to ignore. My work with Elmer was sheer joy, but it produced nothing of sub- stance. I chose not to submit a thesis based on my unsuccessful experi- ments, a decision that was later cited to me as the reason I had gradu- ated cum laude rather than magna cum laude (an obvious wound, else [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl blacksoulman.xlx.pl