May the ducks quack for you (A Tip for Conference Organizers)

Every two years since 2001, I have been co-organizing a workshop in Telluride on “Chemical Dynamics in Complex Environments” (Chem-DiCE). It's a great venue that attracts scientists (and their families) to attend and return. In our particular workshop, we focus on challenges to address molecular behavior (such as reactions) occurring in solvents that are heterogeneous and far from equilibrium. It turns out that this problem is common to many different chemical phenomenon. We therefore invite researchers that are are facing this challenge in different milieu, such as colloidal dispersions, renewable energy generation, proteins, and confined liquids.  We also aim to split the participants equally across theory/computing and experiment. For many of our participants, this meeting is the only time they see each other, let alone be exposed deeply to the research in their respective fields. The net effect is that our workshop gives rise to a cross-pollination of ideas and solutions across broad areas of research. I'd like to think that this is the main reason for the success of our workshop.

However, perhaps the real reason for our success is the organization structure:  Everyone who speaks gets an hour. That is, exactly an hour. At that point the ducks quack (on our timer), and the speaker is finished. It’s not uncommon for speakers to go through only one-quarter to one-third of the material they prepared. That’s because the audience is so interactive that many questions come to the surface, allowing us all to probe the material that is covered much more deeply. It also allows for consideration of questions or issues that someone from outside of a field might naively ask but which, in running counter to the established dogma, requires a profound new direction or solution to address. No speaker ever gets to the end, and they are invariably unhappy that they were unable to do so. But everyone is happy that all the other speakers are stopped at exactly an hour. In the eight workshops that we have run so far, only once was someone allowed to speak beyond that hour. In that case, the speaker wanted to answer a question that had been raised as the ducks were quacking. He pleaded to continue, and I concurred only after the entire group voted unanimously in favor. Thus the structure of talks is very egalitarian, and provides an opportunity for all to learn something new. That’s why I think that my colleagues keep coming back!

Doing chemistry on a gondola!? (Parting thoughts on #TellurideSciencestyle)

Practically every TSRC Workshop lecture starts with some quip about how the landscapes of the terrain inspires us to think about our science. In my case, the landscapes are reminiscent of the potential energy surface that governs a chemical reaction. Molecules, like people, look for the shortest path traversing the lowest point on the ridge between the reactant valley and the product valley. Sometimes, the path isn't traversable because there is still snow along it or some other obstacle blocks the way. Or maybe there's something along the path that can accelerate the journey (such as the gondola giving you a lift and sidestepping 1000 feet or so of the vertical rise). Both of these events also occur in chemistry (or biochemistry). You can have steric clashes with other parts of the reacting molecule or the solvent which slows the reaction down, and you can have catalysts (or enzymes) or solvent fluctuations that speed it up. 

More specifically, one of the current debates in chemical reaction rate theory concerns whether transition state theory is sufficiently accurate (or at least, correctable) to make it useful for quantitative description. This debate maps directly to the question of how to compute the rate of crossing from one  valley to another across a torturous mountain range. The mountaineers will likely spend a lot of time discussing whether there is a single col (and which one) affords the best passage. Similarly, chemists debate whether there is a single "transition state" which describes the reaction. Some, including me, argue that accessibility to the transitions state (or col) and the ease to move through it is equally important. That is, it's not just a single point which determines the passage, but also the shape of the surface around it. The debate doesn't stop here because we can start to kibitz about whether or not there exists a second (or more) transition state that is important to describe the passage between the valleys (of the reactants and products). Or perhaps there exist a gondola which takes you over them even faster? While this latter event doesn't actually occur in the chemical context unless you add additional (shuttling) molecules to the system, the analogies between Telluride's landscapes and the energy landscapes over which chemistry takes place are clearly richer than they may appear at first sight. Thus, while this is my last post on Telluride until my next trip there, it will most certainly continue to inspire me.

On a workshop on Dynamics in Complex Environments at #TellurideScience (TSRC)

In 2001, I co-organized my first TSRC Workshop on the Chemical Dynamics in Complex Environments (CHEM-DiCE). We've held this workshop biennially ever since, and the latest meeting of our group convened on June 25th! That's 7 workshops across 13 years with about 100 scientists. Not more than that because several of our participants (such as myself!) come back. Following the spirit of the TSRC workshops, we have always aimed to include participants in equal numbers whose research centers in theory or experiment. Meanwhile, computational science is well represented because simulations are invariably performed by both!

The term "complex environments" was relatively new back when we started, but is now much more prevalent. The idea behind the term was motivated by the need to create a contrast to systems—such as reacting molecules or folding proteins—that exhibit complex motions—dynamics—regardless of their surroundings. Meanwhile, large surroundings can do amazing things, such as crystallize or conduct, nearly independently of any given atom or molecule within it. So we wanted to put this together, and ask about small systems that are strongly interacting with their surroundings and vice versa. It turns out that such dynamics in complex environments occurs in many subfields of chemistry and physics. So our TSRC workshop brings in experts from three or four such subfields that usually don't overlap at typical meetings. The presentations focus on theoretical and computational techniques have helped a given subfield and what puzzles remain. Such techniques may be useful for the other subfields or may have analogues that hadn't been previously connected. It's common for a speaker to spend most of their allotted hour answering fundamental questions that allows the rest of the group to better understand what they are doing. Going that deeply into the concepts underlying someone else's science enables a cross-pollination of ideas that is difficult to do in other venues. (In financial speak, I would reiterate this statement by saying that collaborative culture spanning different market segments is an integral component of the value proposition for staging and attending TSRC's!)

Advancing Science Through Diversity #OXIDE #TellurideScience #TownTalk

This week, I'll be talking about diversity with the public in the town of Telluride. Is such social science, presented by a molecular scientist, appropriate as a Telluride Town Talk on Molecular Science? This is a venue in which scientists typically speak about their research or their scientific interests in a context accessible to a general audience. It could be human health or climate change. In 2000, I spoke about the analogies between proteins and glasses, and in 2009, I spoke about social, economic and chemical networks. These topics are complex in the sense that they involve many particles that interact strongly with each other. However, they all act rationally. As such, they are not nearly as complex as problems in the social sciences in which individual agents—that is, humans—often act rather irrationally. The Open Chemistry Collaborative in Diversiy Equity (OXIDE) lies at the intersection of these fields. Our perhaps daunting task is to transfer the knowledge gained from the social sciences into reframed professional practices within academic chemistry departments in which diversity inequities are entirely eliminated. Ultimately, we expect that this will lead to demographics within our profession that are comparable to those of our nation. Working with social scientists, we also aim to give back to their field by providing data and analysis of our field.

That all said, you may still be wondering whether the subject is appropriate for a Telluride Town Talk. This question is actually two-sided: Why should molecular scientists spend their time working on these issues rather than focusing on their molecular research? Why should the public care about how a professional discipline is addressing diversity inequities within their ranks?

The truth is that the professional practices of a discipline need to be changed from within, and that means that chemists must be the drivers to the change. The most obvious symptom of the diversity inequities present within the chemical sciences lies in the low numbers of women and under-represented minorities among the academic and professional ranks of chemists in comparison with the demographics of our nation. With the population of under-represented minorities increasing, the need for them to have access to chemistry careers becomes an economic necessity for our nation. Otherwise, our nation will be drawing its talent of future scientists from a shrinking pool. So chemistry departments must become attractive and accomodating destinations for students and faculty whose backgrounds are as diverse as that of our nation. Meanwhile we need the general public to be supportive of the molecular sciences as a viable career choice. Otherwise, students will choose other professions leaving the sciences without some of the best minds. Thus we need a partnership between chemists and the public to advance diversity in the molecular sciences. As for the public, they should care not just because this mission is important to the nation, but also because the diversity inequities that we are finding are relevant in to all professions and organizations.

Do you heart a scientist? (#TSRC and #PinheadInstitute)

In yet another sign that being a scientist is presently cool, here in Telluride, CO, you get 10% discounts at several area establishments just for being a scientist. Or more specifically, for being one of the attendees of a TSRC workshop. You might argue that this is actually an indication of the TSRC Director's prowess at marketing. It's true that she's good, and that the TSRC has a significant financial impact on the town. However, the Telluride folk are not wont to support something they don't believe in. So, if they are supporting this program, then it means that they are genuinely supporting science while seeing its value in facing the grand challenges that confront us in, for example, the environment and energy. Now all we need to do is to take the "we heart scientists" program nationwide! 

The motivation for this request is not so much about the money but the fact that it would bring science to kids' attention. It's hard for practicing research scientists to visit every school in the nation, but the Pinhead Scholars in the Schools program is doing its part in that direction. Back in October, I visited 7 classrooms in two days. The kids were kids. They needed to maintain their highly complicated social positions, and yet they opened up to me. They were that excited to learn about the underlying science of their everyday world! In each of those meetings, I spent an hour talking either about hard cooking an egg or about parachuting. Either way, we spoke about how you could rationalize the science of these processes, and how to use it to make predictions. They were evidently ready to heart science. They gave me hope that if we, today's scientists, engage more with them now, they will continue to do so throughout their lives.

Is Telluride on top of the world of science?

This week, I'm hanging out in Telluride at a workshop focusing on dynamics and kinetics in many dimensions. This is relevant to molecular reactions, protein folding and diffusion, metals and much more. It's brought together an eclectic set of chemical physicists, biophysicists, mathematicians and others from several countries around the world. But who would have thought that I would also run into specialists—and friends—in electronic structure or polymer physics who are attending other workshops? Evidently we're all attracted to the beautiful terrain of this box canyon at 8750 feet above sea level AND to the science we learn from each other in the small workshop format afforded by the TSRC.

In just the five workshops that are being run at the Telluride Science Research Center (TSRC) this week, there are several members of the National Academy, many more who have received national and international awards, and truly many of the leading scientists in their respective fields. After these workshops end, there will be another five workshops next week with another set of similarly highly esteemed researchers. This will continue to repeat weekly through early August. In all, well over 1000 scientists from around the world will have convened in Telluride by the end of the year. That's much more than you can find at any major university in the same span. All you need to do to run across nearly all the major researchers in the chemical sciences is spend your summer sitting at the main coffee bar in town! If all works according to plan, there will even be a permanent facility built for the TSRC by 2017. With that, there should be little doubt that the TSRC is the place to be to if you want to see the cutting edge of science and the landscape beyond it.

No harm no foul...

It's not hakuna matata, but according to my wife, I use the titular phrase all the time. I suppose that I use it in the context of excusing all the many minor infractions that all of us do in the process of living our lives, but that somehow don't amount to much. For example, the time when I accidentally turned left at the corner of my house, just like I always do, only to find that I turned one block early onto a one-way street, in the wrong direction. Fortunately, the road was completely clear and a simple U-turn took care of the problem. No harm no foul. But what if that had been the moment that the road was filled with oncoming traffic?

On a long hike more than 20 years ago in Telluride, CO, my companion and I got lost and ended up bushwhacking for more than twice the time we had intended. Needless to say, we didn't have enough water so we ended up drinking the water from a stream. I got giardia and thankfully nothing worse. I also didn't die when I slid down the side of the mountain. No harm no foul? More importantly, how pure must the water be for there to be no harm? The water was clear. So at least to the naked eye, it was pure. Pity that I didn't have a microscope on me to see the little bugs. Even then, I might have needed a mass spec to look for contaminants at ppm levels or lower which luckily turned out not to be there. Such an experiment would have resolved my drink or no-drink decision. Perhaps better, and easier, I could have carried a water purification packet that would have made the water potable. That's chemistry in action at the microscale of a single human, but the technology wasn't available back then. The real challenge is making such purification sustainable at the macroscale of our entire planet. That's when the titular phrase will be truly operative for all of us.