Part of why Project Hail Mary got into my brain so hard is there are so many little things in it that I feel at a deeply emotional level. And I'm not talking the more obvious things.
One of the pieces in both the movie and book that really got me was the whole bit with Grace and academia. What we know is his major research paper was about non-water-based life. We know it was derided by the entire research community. And we know he had a falling out with that community at a conference that led to him calling one of the head researchers "a major waste of carbon."
One thing we can infer from this without any other background is that Grace does have a fuse that, once lit, will eventually explode. I very strongly head-canon that Grace is neurodivergent (ADHD for sure, possibly AuDHD), which I think is a contributor to this. It doesn't even excuse him for saying something like that.
But, I want to get personal for a second and tell a few stories about academia, and why I think Grace said that, and why I honestly likely would have too. Hang with me for a bit for some some indulgent info, and then I want to explain the Grace connection.
I don't think I've ever really talked about my academic background on here much, even on my other blog.
But the tldr version is I did about 1.5 years of a combined physics and electronics engineering degree (exact same as astronaut Christina Koch, for the record) before two things happened: my extremely untreated and undiagnosed ADHD made it impossible for me to continue because the only way I was learning and passing things like vector calculus was to teach it to myself after I zoned out and fell asleep in class, and at a point I was not brilliant enough to do that on the fly.
And, I realized if I did have to do math all day, every day, or even part of the day, regardless if I was good at it, I was going to die of boredom. So I did the classic thing (not classic at all) and transferred into a literature program. I love figuring out people and writing, if you can't tell.
The other thing I do love is teaching. I love sharing ideas. I finished a bachelor's degree with an undergrade thesis on William Gibson. I started a master's degree with the intent to to study how better to teach writing and textual analysis. I wanted to get a doctorate. I wanted to teach. (I bet Grace taught uni/college. He would have almost had to, to be able to afford his doctorate. That's what I had to do.)
But you know what you also have to do if you get a doctorate and want to teach at a university? You have to do research. Some programs, like Grace's, would be very research based to begin with. Mine would have been textual research.
So, question. Why does Noriya not have a fun Dr. in front of her irl name?
Because academia is brutally conforming.
You get an idea. You get a neat, unique idea. You research it. You write about it. You pour your soul into it.
(Non-water-based life, anyone?)
Maybe a professor looks at it and goes "that is brilliant. you should submit that for publication."
So, you do. You send it to the journal your professor, who is very well respected in their field, recommends and is published in themself.
And eventually, you get a reply back, and it is scathing.
Your professor is confused. They love it. But people have opinions, they suppose.
Beyond that, though, what I learned after years of being a part of, working within (at the administrative level), and trying to get into at a research level, is that academic often rewards conformity. It's a sad fact. There's even a whole other level going on out there where the conformity is usually determined based on the research and interests of the oldest white dude in the faculty.
The above is a real story. It's also the exact moment I gave up on my dream to work and teach in academia. I read that reply letter a few times. I cried. And I immediately started figuring out what I could do instead in my life.
Did I give up too fast? I don't think so. What I was provided was a direct look at the experiences I would have for the rest of my life if I chose that career path. It hurt. There was no room for ideas. For passion. For joy.
I had words for those anonymous reviewers. Perhaps, it was good that reviewers are anonymous. I'm not sure, at the age I was at, at the time, I would have kept those words to myself. I wanted to argue with them. I wanted to plead my case.
Imagine you are Ryland Grace. You spend your entire career building towards a specific idea. You are passionate about it. You love it. You want to share it with everyone.
You go to present it at a conference. (Which I have done, and it is nerve wracking.) You finish. You ask, "Anyone have questions?"
And, the audience just lays into you. The reviewers are not anonymous. They are right there.
You are wrong. They are so offended you even suggested this. They can't believe you would propose something so asininely stupid, when you could be spending your substantial brain power on something more beneficial to the research community at large.
Your heart pounds. Your potentially neurodivergent brain is looking for any exit. You can't believe people are like this. You can't believe they can't at least offer criticism kindly.
(They didn't, with me. My professor lodged a complaint about it how unprofessional it was. No one replied.)
Isn't research supposed to be for new ideas?
Isn't that the whole idea of it?
So, you're Ryland Grace, and something breaks in you, and you look at the man in the audience who is ripping you to pieces, and you say the first thing you think of, a perfect insult given the topic of your talk:
"You're a major waste of carbon."
Because, that guy is. Or you feel he is. He's powerful in his profession. He should be using that to build people up. To encourage ideas. Growth. (Make mistakes, get messy, right? Coincidentally, words coming from another phenomenally good teacher.)
And, you're fucked. You were right, you were owed to be able to at least reply, but it doesn't matter. This will be the rest of your career, of your life, if you pursue what you believe.
So you leave. You give up. You find something else.
Grace became a school teacher, because he could still share his love of science with someone.
Not because he needs to be right.
But because his school is a place of learning. Of acceptance. And really, in the end, I think that's what he wanted.
Academia can be brutal. Moreso when you find human social behaviours and conventions confusing at the best of times. Why do they only apply to some people, some of the time?
And yeah, if you read to the end here, I did end up finding a career that lets me combine all the things I love with the skills I have. I work in communications and a big part of my job is writing to teach others important things.
That paper still stings. You know what I kept, though?
I still have the feedback from my professor on a little cork board on a wall. Keep the kindness. In a world of divergent opinions and awful people, the kindness matters.
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