Identity Crisis

  • PDF / 507,066 Bytes
  • 1 Pages / 576 x 783 pts Page_size
  • 39 Downloads / 208 Views

DOWNLOAD

REPORT


Identity Crisis What a piece of work is man, argued Hamlet, before going on to describe the principal attributes of a materials scientist: noble in reason... infinite in faculties … express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god! (Shakespeare’s exclamation mark, not mine). While this list of attributes will, I am sure, resonate with all readers of MRS Bulletin, I am concerned that other citizens of the world do not associate them immediately with the profession of materials scientist. Indeed many people are not even aware of the profession. In part this is because we ourselves do not always claim this identity. Reflecting on my own development over the past 40 years, I have called myself a metallurgist, a scientist, a microscopist, a materials scientist, a materials engineer, a research manager, an engineering educator, or simply an engineer. Others of you will have used the terms ceramist, polymer scientist, chemist, (solid-state) physicist, and many more. (I also like to think of myself as a dilettante—which I consider a term of approbation rather than an insult, implying that I enjoy what I do.) No wonder Jo(e) Public is confused. If we do not know who we are, how can we expect the rest of the world to identify our profession?

If we do not know who we are, how can we expect the rest of the world to identify our profession? So who is a materials scientist, and what is materials science? Within our discipline this is relatively simple to define: A materials scientist is someone who joins the Materials Research Society, or who voluntarily becomes a member of an appropriate professional body (for instance, the Minerals, Metals & Materials Society in the United States; the Institute of Materials, Minerals & Mining in the United Kingdom; or the Société Française de Métallurgie et de Matériaux in France). Another self-definition has become evident to me recently in the U.K. context—choosing to submit one’s research to the “Metallurgy and Materials” panel of the quinquennial Research Assessment Exercise (as opposed to the “Physics,” “Chemistry,” or “Mechanical Engineering” panels). But what a varied, and interesting, lot we are. We might be working on metals, 888

semiconductors, polymers, freshlysynthesized nanomaterials or on leather, wood, food, or pharmaceuticals. We publish our work in journals aimed at medics, astrophysicists, physical chemists, or consumer electronics buffs. Four of the five most popular journals among U.K. submissions to the Metallurgy and Materials panel have the word “physics” in their title! Only six of the top 20 journals used by these researchers contain the word “materials.” How can we be surprised that nobody knows about materials science when, for all the best of motives, we emphasize our contributions to other disciplines? We are so good at collaboration, so quick to appreciate the potential significance of our work, and so naturally interdisciplinary that we forget that we have our own discipline. But we do often find ourselves running those collabo