Building Uncertainty with Confidence

Perhaps the most anticipated, expected, and, for some, terrifyingly dreaded questions asked of an undergraduate student nearing graduation is… Now what? The potential answers are nearly endless and largely based on the level of certainty—or uncer-tainty—one has about their choices or options.

Having spent an entire career advising, mentoring, and building community with physics and astronomy undergraduates, I have some insight into what will likely come next for many students. As my list of “formers” grows, so does the confidence that my standard answer to another often-asked question—What can I DO with a physics degree?—is not hyperbolic. The answer has always been: anything you want. And, after almost three decades, I have the receipts, so to speak

While earning a degree in physics or astronomy requires ingesting an amazing amount of fundamental physics knowledge on a grand scale, the real gain is a certain set of skills that ranges from the very practical to the more mysterious ability to conceive of the mindblowing what-ifs of the universe. That special skill set is based on learning how to think boldly, to ask shamelessly, and to pursue solutions persistently. Physics and astronomy students discover how to creatively envision a route through a complicated problem that may, at first glance, seem impossible, but which is made manageable by careful dissection into smaller problems that eventually yield the bigger solution. In short, earning a degree in physics means you are capable of anything.

The range of life success available to physics and astronomy students is evidenced by the many ways my formers, many now lifelong friends, make the world a better place. Like many academics, in the early days of my career, I thought my job was to pave the way for each and every one of my students to enjoy a wonderful and satisfying dream life in academia! I soon became enlightened. The most important thing is to make sure every student is prepared for their personal anything.

The great privilege of being at the front of a class-room full of brilliant folks who sometimes enter higher education with clear ideas of what they are “going to be” is witnessing the melting away of that certainty as they begin to realize how much they don’t know. But it’s also watching them grow in their ability to choose from among an enormous and expanding list of possibilities, to see them struggle to decide what comes next not because they are ill-prepared but because there are so many options. They have experienced what an “anything you want” career menu looks like.

Many of my students did choose to pursue advanced degrees, but few in “regular” physics and astronomy. Some felt a pull to change the world one patient at a time through medical physics. Others pursued degrees in the full range of engineering fields, and several even trepidatiously approached me with the question, What would you think about me going to law school? And then did and are now practicing attorneys.

Many more students timidly approached me with, What if I don’t want to go to grad school? And then didn’t. Instead, they found an amazing array of satisfying, rewarding careers. They ensure the safety of water sources and US military personnel. They are data scientists, analysts, accountants, and electronic warfare engineers. They do fundamental research, improve electronics manufacturing, and develop new scientific instrumentation. They work in fields that required them to learn more biology, coding, or advanced analytical chemistry skills. And they succeeded because they were prepared to lean into the uncertainty, to learn something new and different. Because they were open to tackling whatever problems were set before them and confident in their ability to handle the unknown.

More impressive than the work they’re compensated to do or the well-known companies they work for are the many ways my former students use their under-graduate physics experience to be great parents, community volunteers, leaders, and good people. Many carry forward the wonder they learned as undergraduates. There’s a military veteran, now a high-tech augmented reality guru, who’s the cool dad doing physics demonstrations, learned from SPS outreach, at his children’s school. The engineer who helps make potable water a reality for villages around the world. The dedicated animal welfare volunteer. There’s the business-owning welding genius; the daycare manager; the stay-at-home parents; the plethora of technicians and IT professionals; the attorneys; the environmental, electrical, and aerospace engineers; the materials scientists; the radiation physicists; the community college educators; and yes, even the researching, PhD-producing academics.

Among my formers are also those who bravely let me know they were not going to finish the grad program they started—apologizing, somehow thinking they were letting me down—who moved on to better fits, to their own personal anything, and to happy and rewarding lives. These are the stories that haunt me, because the most important thing to me is that every student graduates with the confidence to decide what is best for them, their families, and their futures.

I hope that every advisor, mentor, and educator out there thinks likewise. I have every reason to believe that most do. We love physics. We love more the people who share our fascination with amazing things and are comfortable with the inevitable lesson of physics—that there is always more we do not know and will never have enough time to know.

Whatever you decide to do with your physics experience, be open to your uncertainty and let it buoy confidence in your capacity to succeed. If my collection of receipts is any indication, the odds are in your favor.