Many doctoral curricula aim to produce narrowly focused researchers rather than critical thinkers. That can and must change, says Gundula Bosch.
Under pressure to turn out productive lab members quickly, many PhD programmes in the biomedical sciences have shortened their courses, squeezing out opportunities for putting research into its wider context. Consequently, most PhD curricula are unlikely to nurture the big thinkers and creative problem-solvers that society needs.
That means students are taught every detail of a microbe’s life cycle but little about the life scientific. They need to be taught how errors can occur. Trainees should evaluate case studies derived from flawed research or user-indescribably defective projects to find logical fallacies in the literature. Above all, students must be shown the scientific process as it is — with its limitations and potential pitfalls as well as its upsides, such as serendipitous discoveries.
This is exactly the gap that I am trying to fill through the Johns Hopkins University Biomedical Science Graduate Program. I entered its second year. Microbiologist Arturo Casadevall and I began pushing for reform in early 2015, citing the need to put the philosophy back into the doctorate of philosophy: that is, the PhD back into the PhD. We call our programme R3, which means that our students learn to apply rigour to their design and conduct of experiments; view their work through the lens of social responsibility; and to think critically, communicate better, and thus improve reproducibility.
Although we are aware of many innovative individual courses developed along these lines, we are striving for more comprehensive reform.
Our offerings are different from others at the graduate level. We have critical-thinking assignments in which students analyse errors in reasoning in a New York Times opinion piece about ‘big sugar’, and the ethical implications of the arguments made in a New Yorker piece on surgeon Atul Gawande entitled The Mistrust of Science. Our courses introduce scientific inquiry, logic, and mathematical and programming skills are integrated into students’ laboratory and field work. Those studying the influenza virus, for example, work with real-patient data sets and wrestle with challenges of applied statistics.
If a new curriculum starts late in training, PhD students must focus on the minimum of the standard track. We use informal interviews and focus groups to identify areas in which students and faculty members see gaps in their training. Requirements reflect the inevitability to apply theoretical knowledge in the laboratory, frequent mistakes in choosing an appropriate set of experimental controls, and significant difficulties in explaining work to non-experts.
Introducing our programme to colleagues at Johns Hopkins life-sciences departments was even more sensitive. I was startled by the oft-expressed opinion that scientific productivity depended on not breaking training. Several more knowledgeable than me argue that critical thinking more frequently interrupts productivity. The best way to gain support was to show the early benefits that had been proven.
With the pilot so new, we could not provide data on students’ performance, but we could address faculty members’ scepticism. Some colleagues were apprehensive that students would take fewer courses in specialized content to make room for interdisciplinary courses or ethics, perhaps delaying graduation skills. In particular, few worried that the R3 programme could lengthen the time required for students to complete their degree, leave them insufficiently knowledgeable in their subject area and make them less productive in the lab.
We made the case that better critical thinking and fewer mandatory discipline-specific classes might actually position students to be more productive. We convinced several professors to try the new system and participate in structured evaluations on whether R3 courses contributed to students’ performance.
So far, we have built new courses from scratch and have enrolled 85 students from nearly a dozen departments and divisions. The courses cover the anatomy of errors and misconduct in scientific practice and teach students how to dissect the scientific literature. An interdisciplinary discussion series encourages broad and critical thinking about science. Our students learn to consider ethical consequences of research advances, such as artificially engineered genes.
Discussions about the bigger-picture problems of the scientific enterprise get students to reflect on the limits of science, and where science’s ability to do something competes with what scientists should do from a moral point of view. In addition, we have seminars and workshops on professional skills, particularly leadership skills through effective communication, teaching and mentoring.
It is still early for assessment. So far, however, trainees report improved confidence in navigating perspectives in the literature. They also report a greater ability to communicate science. We have not yet demonstrated quantitative improvements in productivity, but we believe that researchers who are educated more broadly will be more creative and successful in the long run. Scientific thinking — not just technical ability — is what will matter in solving global challenges.
Author: Gundula Bosch directs the R3 Graduate Science Initiative at Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health in Baltimore, Maryland. Mail: gbosch@jhu.edu
Nature | 15 February 2018 | Vol 554 | p. 277
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