Of course science should be open

 My interest in science in general, and open science in particular, can be, in a large part, attributed to my favourite book when I was little We had an old copy of a paperback book, titled Madam Curie. It was translated by Vincent Sheean from the orginal by Eve Curie, published in 1938. My copy of the book had a red cover with a drawing of Marie working in a laboratory. I read that book over and over, and over. I have searched, and can’t find a photo on line of the edition I had, but I am delighted to see that a hardcover library copy of book has been scanned and made available online. I suspect that my copy was an abridged version, as there are more details than I remember, but the parts I remember well appear exactly as I remember them, so my copy wasn’t a simplified version, even if it may have been shorter than this edition. Now that I have found it, I am looking forward to reading it in full, and seeing how much, if anything, is new to me.

 

One scene in the story has always stuck in my memory, and I have quoted it many times over the years whenever the topic of Open Science comes up. The conversation between Marie and Pierre Curie about how they will share the steps needed to produce radium from pitchblende ore, starting on page 203:

 

"We must speak a little about our radium," he said in peaceful tones. "the industry is going to be greatly extended, that is certain now. the recent cures of malignant tumours have been conclusive, in a few years the whole world will be wanting radium. Just now, in fact, this letter has come in from Buffalo--som technicians who want to exploit radium in America ask me to give them information."

 

"Well, then?" Marie said, taking no vivid interest in the conversation.

 

"Well, then, we have a choice between two solutions. We can describe the results of our research without reserve, including the processes of purification . . ."

 

Marie made a mechanical gesture of approval and murmured: "Yes, naturally."

 

"Or else," Pierre went on, "we can consider ourselves to be the proprietors, the 'inventors' of radium. In this case it would be necessary, before publishing exactly how you worked to treat pitchblende, to patent the technique and assure ourselves in that the way of rights over the manufacture of radium throughout the world."

 

He made an effort to clarify the position in objective fashion. It was not his fault, if, in pronouncing the words with which he was only slightly familiar, such as "patent" and "assure ourselves of the rights," his voice had a hardly perceptible inflection of scorn.

 

Marie reflected a few seconds. Then she said:

 

"It is impossible. It would be contrary to the scientific spirit."

 

Pierre's serious face lightened. To settle his conscience, he dwelt upon it.

 

"I think so too. . . But I do not want this decision to be taken lightly. Our life is hard--and it threatens to be hard forever. We have a daughter, perhaps we may have other children. For them, and for us, this patent would represent a great deal of money, a fortune. It would be comfort made certain, and the suppression of drudgery. . . ."

 

He mentioned, too, with a little laugh, the only thing which it was cruel for him to give up:

 

"We could have a fine laboratory too."

 

Marie's gaze grew fixed. She steadily considered this idea of gain, of material compensation. Almost at once she rejected it.

 

"Physicists always publish their researches completely. If our discovery has a commercial future, that is an accident by which we must not profit. And radium is going to be of use in treating disease. . . . It seems to me impossible to take advantage of that."

 

She made no attempt to convince her husband; she guessed that he had spoken of the patent only out of scruple. The words she pronounced with complete assurance expressed the feelings of both of them, their infallible conception of the scientists's role.

 

In the silence Pierre repeated, like an echo, Marie's phrase:

 

"No. It would be contrary to the scientific spirit."

 

He was appeased. He added, as if settling a question of no importance.

 

"I shall write tonight, then, to the American engineers, and give them the information they ask for."

 

---

 

This philosophy was one with which I so deeply agreed that the first time I heard the phrase “Open Science” at a University I wondered if there were any other sort. How could there be? Those two important scientists had considered, and rejected, putting barriers to access of information in 1903, surely everyone agrees with them? Today I understand that there are more barriers to Open Science than just pay walls, patents and choosing to withhold information. These barriers include data lost due to poor organisational practices, failure to make back ups, and obsolete file systems. Hopefully, the current campaign to make data FAIR (find-able, accessible, interoperable, and reusable) is reducing the frequency of those problems.

With all the confidence of a mediocre white man

 I saw a post on FB from a friend in Norway suggesting that people with a PhD and an interest in Cultural Heritage should apply for a job as a Researcher in Administrative Archaeology with The Arctic University Museum  Tromso. My first reaction was to worried aloud in the comments that my degrees may not count as “equivalent”, and my friend promptly encouraged me to apply, so I did. The same day, no less! I figured that the worst that could happen is that I would at least get the practice with archaeology applications, and see to it that my CV is up to date! To accomplish this I needed to update my personal information and jobs at JobbNorge, so now the next job I see in Norway will be a little easier to apply for.

We also applied for a summer job at the Lofotr Viking Museum, because I just plain love it there.

In other news, check out photos on FB for progress photos of my living room ceiling.