Paul McKinley, 2020 AIP Mather Policy Intern: US House Committee on Science, Space, and Technology

Biography

SPS Chapter: Pomona College

Originally from mid-Michigan, I am currently a rising junior at Pomona College majoring in physics and astronomy. Like many students, I am interested in exploring the ways in which science and engineering directly impact people’s lives. Through research, I explored this intersection last summer on a project implementing image-processing techniques to detect infectious diseases with nano-biosensors in developing countries. Through coursework, the breadth of study at Pomona has enabled me to pursue academic training in policy, public health and economics in tandem with my physical and life science courses. That combination has provided me with insight into how science and policy coalesce, an intersection that impacts all of us and is crucial now, more than ever.

As a physics major, I serve as a student-faculty liaison for our department and work as a teaching assistant for introductory physics classes. I am also engaged in outreach and mentorship, participating in a campus reading group that works to improve peer mentoring and inclusivity in STEM disciplines. My efforts through our SPS chapter are similarly focused on conducting K-12 outreach events throughout the year. Although I am not yet sure of my plans after my undergraduate studies, I aspire to work in a field which informs or is related to science policy, and I am excited and grateful for the opportunity to broaden my experience in that area as a Mather Policy Intern.

Outside of school, I am a runner on the Pomona-Pitzer cross country and track and field teams, and I volunteer as a college preparatory mentor with local high schoolers. I enjoy playing the piano, especially in impromptu jam sessions, and I always love the chance to do anything to explore the outdoors.

Internship

Host: U.S. House of Representatives

Project

Abstract

Open dialogue between lawmakers, experts, and government agencies exists at a nexus that is critical for creating informed and impactful policy. Authorization legislation from Congress is one opportunity for this type of collaboration, serving as a means to guide funding and allow continued operation of Federal programs and agencies across the country. The House Committee on Science, Space & Technology is charged with drafting authorization and reauthorization bills that directly affect members of the scientific community, as well as STEM education and future research and development. This presentation explores the underpinnings of upcoming reauthorization legislation for the National Science Foundation (NSF), with a particular focus on the collaborative role stakeholders from research institutions and professional organizations play in aiding final production of such an important bill. This coordination is vital to allow a widely-influential Federal organization like NSF to effectively support researchers, educators and students, as well as maintain adaptability in the face of an ever-changing research environment.

Final Presentation

Internship Blog

And We’re Off

Week 1 is in the books! And what a wild ride it’s been, even though I’ve spent the majority of it in my room on my computer. There’s no denying that this remote internship will certainly be a different experience from years past, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a bit disappointed about not physically working in D.C. but hey -- we’re in a pandemic. That is the fact that continues to put all aspects of day-to-day life into a new perspective that we’re all coping with.

I still feel incredibly lucky to have such a cool summer experience lined up when so many around the country have been canceled. Essentially, a big shout-out to the folks at SPS and the House Committee on Science, Space, and Technology (SST) for keeping this going.

This week in general has flown by. Monday was full of Zoom meetings for orientation in the SPS summer program, followed by some additional orientation meetings for working in the congressional office. The rest of the week has primarily consisted of attending and taking notes at various hearings and webinars. Essentially, I get to listen to experts and policymakers talk about science and technology in fields that run the gamut of research in the U.S., and all within a 15 second walk from the fridge. I’ve also been fortunate to be assigned to attend multiple presentations in areas that are of particular interest to me, namely climate and energy science. What continues to excite me about those research areas is that physics can be a pretty useful toolbox to understand phenomena in very applied, and pressing topics. For example, with just a little bit of knowledge of fluid mechanics and thermodynamics, understanding hurricanes and their risks becomes much more accessible (and we’re currently on the cusp of what’s slated to be a nasty hurricane season).

Right now, the interns in the SST office are working on putting together a newsletter with 2-page summaries of various events we’ve attended that relate to the office subcommittees’ work. I’m definitely still getting used to the flow and nuances of work in a congressional office, and it still feels a bit surreal to be sitting in on calls with members of Congress, even if my microphone and video are both muted (a fact I made sure to triple check). But everyone in the SST community has been super helpful and friendly -- a few staff members have even reached out to “virtually meet over coffee” next week, which I’m looking forward to.

I’ll close this post by shamelessly admitting that I am a novice when it comes to blogging. I wouldn’t be able to tell you the “key ingredients” needed to comprise a good blog post if you paid me. Nevertheless, I am fully committing to the challenge to write about the ins and outs of working in the U.S. Capitol from my home in mid-Michigan. There might be drama, comedy, or random quarantine hobbies that pop up throughout the summer. Who knows? There will almost certainly be random mentions of any cool physics I come across. But until next week, stay safe, stay sane, and stay quarky (I also refuse to apologize for any terrible physics puns that arise in these posts).

-Paul

To the Future Reader: A Reminder of Now

[The views expressed in this post are mine alone. They do not reflect the views of SPS, HSST, or Pomona College]

Today marks the end of Week 2. I feel like I’m growing more accustomed to the rhythm and flow of remote work now -- at the very least I’m more used to attending webinars, taking notes, and drafting memos. A couple highlights from this week in particular: I got to attend a virtual conference on flood mitigation and disaster management, a topic I knew little about beforehand but one that I now find critically important, particularly as a pressing example of human-impact issues that are directly exacerbated by climate change.

Additionally, the first issue of our House Science Space and Technology intern newsletter went out at the end of the week, and I for one think it’s a pretty cool first issue. My memo focused on impacts of the loop current on hurricane intensification (I encourage anyone with an interest in physics relating to oceanography to check it out). Our topics were all relevant to different subcommittees, and I’m finding that such diversity in interests among my fellow interns in the committee office is a great way to gain policy insight into different scientific fields.

To shift gears a bit, I recognize that the purpose of this blog is to document our summer internship experiences; however, by necessity those experiences are shaped by current events. As a result, I want to spend some of this post addressing the events that have come to the fore in our country over the last several weeks, namely the killing of George Floyd and the ensuing protests from the Black Lives Matter movement. The current demonstrations have reminded us that systemic racism is manifested at so many levels within our society. For those of us who have been privileged enough not to face discrimination be it explicit or implicit based on our race, the past few weeks have consisted of much introspection to both recognize that privilege, and more importantly, seek out ways to support Black members of our communities, both at the individual and institutional level.

The depths to which race and racism in our country can and should be discussed and addressed transcend anything that could be written in a blog post. One area I would like to highlight as it pertains to our roles as SPS interns, however, is the experience of Black students in physics, and more broadly in all STEM fields. Physics is a historically homogeneous, white-male dominated field, a trend that is acknowledged and even highlighted by studies from APS . While this trend is common in most STEM disciplines, the lack of representation of Black students in physics specifically, at both the undergraduate and postgraduate level, has remained noticeably low over the last twenty years.

My guess is, the existence of racial and gender disparities in physics and the sciences in general hardly comes as a surprise to someone reading this post. I think most would agree that acknowledging the issue of racial disparities and barriers in secondary and higher education is important, but should ultimately be combined with strategies to address the problem. I say strategies instead of solutions here because I think it’s important to recognize that these problems are not resolved with any single adjustment or action.

Racial disparities in our K-12 education system would suggest that systemic interventions should occur long before high school, let alone college. I absolutely think this is true. At the college level though, I still feel we can do more within our respective institutions to support our Black peers. As college students, we have an opportunity now, when people are receptive, to communicate with each other and with faculty about changes we can make in our respective departments to initiate those changes. I have felt encouraged this past week by the actions of my peers in our physics and astronomy department who have organized virtual town halls and interdepartmental reading groups to discuss concrete measures we can take in this endeavor, including but not limited to highlighting the work of Black scientists past and present, increasing engagement with Black student groups on campus, and exploring ways to further incorporate awareness of issues surrounding race, implicit bias, and stereotype threat more extensively into our curriculum. Whatever the measures, I think it is important that both faculty and students are able to take ownership of these initiatives, and thus far it has been encouraging to see high levels of participation from the two.

I should add that I do not mean to suggest that such efforts in our department are the only or best way to address the issue of race and systemic challenges faced specifically by Black students in the sciences. I also do not claim in any way to be an expert on racial barriers in physics, academia, or otherwise; there are others, including some of my fellow interns, who can speak to these issues more eloquently than I, and I encourage you to read their posts if you haven’t already. Yet I write this acknowledging the fact that I am continuing to learn about these topics and will more than likely make mistakes along the way; I encourage those in a similar situation to view those instances as an uncomfortable learning opportunity, not as a deterrent to engagement.

Finally, my motivation to write this particular blog post stems in part from the belief that it is easy to engage with social movements when they first arise and are pervasive in the news cycle and social media feeds. However, enacting widespread, institutional change often requires long-term engagement, and all too often such engagement tends to peter out before concrete, lasting change is implemented. My hope is two-fold: first, that my fellow students reading this now might feel empowered (not by this single post necessarily, but by the sheer volume of similar ones) to actively look for ways to implement changes to better support underrepresented minorities in institutions around them. I used the example of physics and STEM disciplines in higher education here, but as I stated before, racism pervades all levels of society, and opportunities for action exist at each in turn. Many have found their voices on issues of policing, public health, and education. I trust the reader to find theirs in their respective circumstances, if they haven’t already. Second, I have no idea what the status of the world will be like in a year. In addition to hoping that we are no longer in a pandemic, I hope that the trend is broken, that we do have concrete change to better support Black members of our community by that time. Yet no matter the progress, I am confident that more will need to be done. As a result, my final hope is that future readers, perhaps even next year’s interns, might see this as a reminder of this time, and the potential they have to continue that work.

A physics pun feels inappropriate for this post given the content and circumstances, so to readers present and future: stay curious, stay thoughtful, and stay active.

-Paul

(Not) the Longest Day of the Year

Well I thought I’d be writing this post on the “longest day of the year,” but the physicist in me forgot to actually check the date of the summer solstice which it turns out for this year was yesterday (June 20th). Michigan still finds itself with a surplus of sun in the evening though -- we’re about as far west as you can go in the Eastern time zone and sunset today is at 9:19 pm. Upon finding out that I missed the solstice and the days are now getting shorter, I also found out that we’re currently closer to the aphelion of our orbit (farthest from the sun) which will be on July 4th, than the perihelion (closest to the sun) which was back in January. Whatever. The sun felt pretty up close and personal on my run yesterday and I now have a lovely tee-shirt tan that no one will see.

This week was a little quieter on Virtual Capitol Hill. Not as many briefings to attend for the committee, but still plenty of cool science webinars to watch and take notes on that are open to the public. For anyone in SPS who is interested in science policy but hasn’t subscribed to FYI’s weekly newsletter, I highly recommend it as a way to get the latest scoop on how policy (and sometimes politics) and science collide. Also a plug there for our FYI intern, Hale.

I was in charge of editing our intern weekly newsletter this week for the House Science committee. I forgot to mention our title last week, which is the “Science Committee Intern Newsletter.” The acronym, S.C.I.N. gives rise to our motto: “It’s SCINsational!” Roll your eyes, slap your knee, close the computer if you must. It’s a quality pun and I still apologize for nothing. As it turns out, the newsletter hasn’t actually been sent out yet like it normally would at the end of the week. The committee office was given the day off on Friday in observance of Juneteenth, which was a conscientious move in my opinion. It does mean however, that I can’t say if the newsletter was sent out successfully yet until tomorrow. Being the editor this past week meant spending a lot of quality time with my archnemesis, Microsoft Word. To be fair, it’s probably easier to combine these memos in Word as opposed to LaTeX or Docs (I’m sure some reader somewhere will disagree with me on that), but the fact remains that between now and tomorrow morning there is a non-zero probability that I’ll move an image a fraction of a micrometer and all of the text will be changed to hieroglyphs. Thanks Word.

On a final note about our newsletter, I’ll add that my piece this week was about marine management in the Arctic. I definitely did not have as much appreciation for the policy interests in the Arctic in addition to environmental conservation prior to writing this piece. For anyone interested in Arctic research, especially in the era of covid, there’s an interesting podcast out from the Economist’s Babbage science podcast this week on the MOSAiC expedition that I highly recommend. Link is below. Anyway, until next week, when the days are shorter and winter is coming, stay safe, stay sharp, and stay suave.

-Paul

Link to Babbage episode on the Arctic: https://www.economist.com/podcasts/2020/06/17/pole-position-the-polarstern-expedition-reveals-the-arctics-secrets

Making Things Make Sense

Week 4 is in the books, with the month of June close on its heels. This is the part of summer in Michigan where the air starts to get just a bit thicker, and the brave souls who traverse the surrounding woodland trails will find the insects to be just a bit more vicious. At the same time, the sunsets tend to be pretty spectacular out in the country, and fireflies put on a show in the evenings... so take the good with the bad I suppose, and keep both in perspective.

Here’s where we’re at. Work has certainly kept me busy, and now that we interns have a few weeks under our belts, we’re starting to see more direct assignments from staff. The nature of the work has stayed similar, a lot of note-taking and reports, but more of it now is geared specifically towards webinars and hearings that are directly relevant to the Science Committee.

In tandem with the committee work, I’ve been thinking a lot about science communication recently. A few of my peers in the physics department at Pomona host a ‘peer-mentoring’ summer reading group on the weekends where students and professors across disciplines get together and discuss pedagogy in our classes, TA sessions, and departments. Last week’s session focused on the type of language we use in our classrooms, specifically relating to how we balance jargon and more casual language when discussing and explaining complex subjects. I think many of us are generally of the opinion that the more training an individual has in a given field, the easier it is for them to break down complex topics into non-technical language. An ‘expert’ might be the most qualified to use the jargony buzzwords, but they may also be the best people to help the introductory student reach the revered “aha” moment by using everyday language. While this likely varies among individual instructors, it kind of makes sense -- those experts generally know what they’re talking about enough to make accessible analogies when appropriate. At the same time, this is much easier said than done. It’s redundant to say complex topics are complex because they can’t be simply explained, but in some sense this is the objective for a student developing an initial understanding in a new area.

I would venture to guess that most people in physics, or really any subject with a healthy amount of jargon, have had an experience listening to a talk or lecture where it kind of feels like you’re slipping while water-skiing (if you haven’t been water-skiing, it’s not a great feeling). You’re able to keep up at first, and then you hear a word you don’t really understand and your grip starts to slip. Throw in a differential equation and you slip a little more, and pretty soon the equations on the board just turn into gibberish and you’re totally upended with your skis sticking out of the water. Our discussion last week centered on developing strategies for educators to help students avoid this unpleasantry, especially for teaching assistants helping fellow students. We surmised that it’s important to find the balance between making a concept accessible from the very beginning while also incorporating the more technical terms along the way that are probably necessary to advance in the subject matter. For example, it’s probably difficult to talk about special relativity without distinguishing between coordinate time, proper time and the spacetime interval, but having understandable (or at least sufficiently understandable) definitions for each needs to be step one. And having educators ask leading questions and asking students to explain their reasoning can mitigate the risk of building additional material on top of a shaky foundation. This isn’t a novel concept by any means, but I think it can be especially important for teaching assistants, especially at the undergraduate level, to be aware of this balance, and be watchful when a student starts to slip. To build on the mediocre-at-best water skiing analogy, this is why it’s important to always have someone in the back of the boat, watching the skier to see if they have any trouble.

In a broader sense, I do think this idea of balancing between technical and non-technical language is pertinent in our current pandemic circumstances. How do we convince people about the severity of COVID-19 and the nature of SARS-CoV-2 as states reopen and case numbers rise, without bombarding them with microbiology terms that go over most of our heads? Talking exclusively about ACE-2 receptors and spike proteins probably isn’t a great way to go, but I think we’ve also seen the dangers of oversimplifying complex processes in diagnostics and therapeutics that give rise to “science by press-release.” I don’t have an answer here; I think most can agree that accurate scientific messaging is critical, but the ways to do so effectively are still being worked out. I’ve attached some links below that I think are pretty good examples of conveying important and interesting science through mostly non-technical terms. One is from ‘Minute Physics’ on the physics behind N95 masks that I found really cool, and the other is more a comical example explaining the structure of the Saturn V rocket in the 1,000 most common English words. Until next week, stay safe, stay cool (emotionally and physically), and hey, talk about some science.

Physics of N95 Masks - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eAdanPfQdCA

Saturn V in 1,000 most common words - https://xkcd.com/1133/

Let’s Run a Small Experiment on Cognition

This week’s post will be a bit less focused on work, and a bit more focused on a small (relatively menial) experiment I’m running this week on human behavior, namely my own. I’ve added a few short updates on the internship at the end, so if that is of more interest by all means skip the rest -- I won’t be offended (because I don’t know you’re reading this).

So, this week’s experiment: becoming a morning person. This pursuit seems somewhat common, and I’d venture to guess the number of folks declaring themselves as soon-to-be morning people is highest right around New Year’s. There are all sorts of reasons to get up early that are likely better than mine, but doing so voluntarily always seems to be a habit that’s hard to start and even harder to sustain. So for this experiment, I want to go beneath the surface, and look at this from a neurobiological perspective. (Apologies in advance to those who actually understand neurobiology for any botching of terms and definitions)

Here are the parameters of this experiment: 1) I like to go running outside most days of the week. 2) The current forecast for this week puts the temperature for every day in the nineties. Couple that with Michigan July humidity and it’s not exactly an endorphins buffet on those 5 pm runs after work. 3) I’m reading a book on neurobiology (not exactly a plot twist there).

I’ll first make a shameless plug for this book, as someone who hasn’t really done a lot of non-required pleasure reading since high school. Behave by Robert Sapolsky is a book about explaining humanity’s best, and worst behaviors from a neurobiological and evolutionary perspective. It reads more like a story than a textbook and is pretty accessible and often funny. It was recommended by one of my physics professors in an elective course on climate and energy, and I think that its applications extend far and wide, especially in our current circumstances.

So here’s the goal: get up every morning this week to exercise before 7 am (I first thought about saying 6 am and realized I was too close to scrapping this blog post idea as a result). From a neurobiological standpoint, this will be a test primarily for the frontal cortex. Sapolsky describes the frontal cortex as the closest thing we have to a super-ego. To bypass all of the jargon that I admittedly don’t understand, the frontal cortex makes us do the harder thing, when it’s the right thing to do. In other words, it’s the little voice in our head that urges us to endure some current discomfort for a longer-term reward, i.e. “get up to go run now even though the bed is comfortable so you don’t melt this afternoon.” The other interesting thing about the frontal cortex is that those “tough” decisions tend to leave our decision-making capacity a bit exhausted immediately after, but over time the behavior becomes more automatic and could eventually become a habit (I’m guessing that’s not news to anyone).

So we’ll see how this week goes. Beyond this little experiment, I’ll add that the metacognition involved with reading a book on neurobiology is somewhat fascinating. I think the motivation is similar to my interest in physics in that it serves as a means to understand the rules that govern complex systems. Except instead of physical rules governing the Universe, we’re talking about rules governing neurons and synapse firing in our own head. I also think that the bit about the frontal cortex is broadly applicable, especially now. Doing “the harder thing, when it’s the right thing” is something I think we all struggle with. It’s the internal battle we have to endure when we want to go out and socialize but know that the associated risks may not be worth it, or know that we should wear a mask even when it’s hot and uncomfortable. The potential examples are endless, so I’ll let readers fill in the blank.

This post is pretty long now, but for the TL;DR folks, this upcoming week is a busy one. I have multiple “virtual coffees” set up with some of the staff on the Energy and Environment subcommittees which I’m looking forward to, and I have multiple concurrent staff assignments coming up. We also have our upcoming virtual picnic with a talk by John Mather (founder of the ‘Mather’ policy internship), and we’ll have a day where all of the SPS interns will come do a mixing Q&A session with the House Science, Space and Technology Committee staff. Worlds colliding.

I’m sure I’ll have more to write on this once all of that stuff has happened, but until then, stay safe, stay empathetic, and when you are faced with a tough choice, trust your frontal cortex.

-Paul

Holding Things Together

This week has been something of a mixed bag. First for the highlights:

As an update on my little psychological experiment from last week’s post, I committed to being a morning person this past week. I can’t confirm that I was physically out of the bed before 7 am, but I got up and worked out before the workday started. Take that conflicted prefrontal cortex. I’m going to try to keep that pattern up for this week even though it’s not supposed to be as hot.

I also just finished my SPS intern physics demo. We’re all submitting 30-second videos demonstrating various physics phenomena for the AAPT virtual conference. Mine consisted of building a “tensegrity” toy, commonly known as a levitating strings toy. It turns out there are a lot of variations of tensegrity (tension + integrity) structures and architecture, but I think it’s a pretty useful way to think about balancing of forces and tension in general. Here’s a link explaining the physics a little more in-depth for those interested.

Work in the committee office was a bit quieter this week. I’ll be able to give a bit more detail about some of my longer-term work once it’s available to the public, but in the short term, I attended two really cool virtual events, one on the Artemis Accords (aka “space law”) and one on applications of quantum photonics (considered cool by physics nerds everywhere). Most of these events are open to the public, so for anyone who has some extra time and is interested in science policy, they’re a great resource. Hill Happenings has a free weekly newsletter that posts a lot of these events and panels.

Casting a little bit of a cloud on the week was Pomona College’s decision to hold only remote classes this fall term. It seems to be the right call based on the current status of COVID-19 in L.A. County (with cases still going through the roof), but I think the situation is disappointing for everyone in the college community nonetheless. My guess is that many people this year around the country will be in a similar situation of evaluating the costs and benefits of doing a full semester online depending on their school’s policy.

In an effort not to end this on a downer note, I’ve attached a picture of my tensegrity structures. I have to say the hardest part by far was tying tiny knots with sewing thread to hold everything together. They’re both still intact, though...for now. Anyway, until next week, stay cool (especially if you’re in a region experiencing this nasty current heat wave) and hey, do those little things to relieve the tension we’re all feeling. (badum tss)

Firing On All Cylinders

It’s hard to believe we only have a few more weeks left in the internship -- somehow the summer has flown by, even in our remote setting. Nevertheless, the past week was pretty packed and the week ahead looks to be similar. Last week we had both a full committee hearing as well as a couple of smaller subcommittee briefings. I got to help out a bit with some of the questions for the full committee hearing on public health and equity impacts of extreme heat and COVID-19 which was pretty exciting.

I have multiple concurrent staff assignments at the moment which are serving as great sources of exposure to both legislative draft work as well as investigative policy research. What’s especially interesting to me is the role of the Science Committee as a focal point for so many different stakeholders in academia, industry and nonprofits. It’s like the one-stop-shop for everyone in science looking to take the next step in their respective work. In general, it’s just a great way to see how science and policy interact.

That leads me to the highlight of this past week for me, which was the interns’ conversation with Dr. John Mather, the project scientist on the James Webb Telescope, and founder of the Mather Policy Intern positions (surprise surprise). It was fascinating to hear Dr. Mather’s perspective on James Webb and astronomy as well as the discipline of physics more broadly and our positionality as students within it. It was also reaffirming to hear the motivation behind the Mather Policy program in his own words, as a means to expose undergraduate scientists to the science-policy interface early in their education. It is true that many opportunities exist for career scientists to gain policy experience through fellowships or certificate programs, but as Dr. Mather reiterated, fewer of those opportunities exist at the undergraduate level.

I am someone who is interested in both science and policy, and while I am confident I would like to continue working in the sciences, I am still unsure to what degree I might be interested in working in the policy realm in my career. What I have gathered thus far from this internship, and indeed as expressed by Dr. Mather himself, is that regardless of the amount of science policy work in one’s career, understanding the dynamics between the two fields is important for all scientists. In addition to being a source of funding and research support, government serves as one avenue through which scientists can affect change to benefit the public. That statement is idealistic to be sure, and change is often slow, but I do feel it underscores the importance of effective science communication as a necessary dialogue between our peers or colleagues, the public, and the decision-makers in Washington D.C. With that, I’ll end this post with a quote from Erwin Schrödinger, in the hope of giving this perspective some corroboratory credibility:

“If you cannot - in the long run - tell everyone what you have been doing, your doing has been worthless.”

-Erwin Schrödinger

Rise and Grind

This past week has looked a bit different from standard operating procedure. As opposed to the usual variety of tasks and webinars, I really focused on a single project for scientific research funding legislation our committee is drafting. It’s still unclear the level of detail we’re allowed to provide on these types of assignments via social media or blog posts, so I do want to be mindful of that for now. In essence, I spent most of the week working at the intersection of our legislative language and input from scientific stakeholders like professional organizations and research institutions. The stakeholders have all had a lot of feedback on our bill, so while that has certainly kept me busy this week, it’s reaffirming to see extensive engagement from so many advocates for science in the legislative process. This will also be the topic of my capstone presentation, so as I get approval for which information I’m allowed to present, it will be easier to provide details in posts for the remaining weeks of the internship.

That brings me to the next point: there are only two weeks remaining of the SPS summer internship! That’s crazy to think about. Some of the other interns in our office are also starting to wind down their work, so we’re scheduled to have an intern going-away party this coming week on Friday. I was disappointed to miss our SPS social hour this past week, but in general these virtual gatherings either with the SPS crew or folks in the House Science office have been a welcome source of socialization and decompression.

Towards the end of this past week, we finally had some clear skies over mid-Michigan and we got a clear view of the Comet NEOWISE. Binoculars was definitely the way to go, and I’ll make a shameless plug for the app, Night Sky which helped pinpoint the comet’s location. My brother has gotten into photography during this quarantine era, and he was able to capture a pretty nice picture of the comet with a telescoping lens, which I’ve attached below. In any case, for anyone in the northern hemisphere who hasn’t seen it yet, this mass of ice, dust, and ionized gas is worth checking out -- it’ll be a lengthy wait (6,800 years) before it stops by our neighborhood again.

Week 9: End in Sight

Schwooom! See that? That was the summer. I’m beating a dead horse at this point via my blog posts (a phrase I’ve never been a fan of but seems fitting), but with one week to go, it’s difficult to be introspective. It really feels like we just started. That said, last week was pretty packed, and the upcoming week looks to be about the same again, so there’s a good chance I won’t hit that bittersweet reflective stage until Friday’s symposium.

I spent a lot of this past week finishing up my long-term staff assignments. One project focused on compiling sections from the recently-released report from the House Select Committee on the Climate Crisis. The document is open-source and available to the public so for folks interested in climate and renewable energy, like me, I highly recommend checking it out. It’s about 600 pages (I did not read all of them), but even the beginning sections are very informative in my opinion.

The other project I finished up is the subject of my symposium presentation. I got clearance from our staff regarding presentable information, so on Friday I’ll be talking about my work on the 2020 NSF Reauthorization Act. I think this was one of the best projects I could have hoped to work on this summer -- I entered this position hoping to gain a better understanding of the connection between policy-makers and scientists, and getting to sit in on some of the meetings with stakeholders and helping review legislation for a body like the National Science Foundation has certainly provided that insight.

In other news, this week has been great for all things Space! Just today, Bob Behnken and Doug Hurley safely touched down in the Crew Dragon capsule, and we also saw a successful launch of the Mars 2020 Perseverance rover. A little closer to home, we’ve been lucky to see some great flyovers of the international space station right over our house on clear evenings. It’s only visible for a brief window of time at dawn or dusk because you need reflecting light from the sun to see it. Much like the summer, it seems that as soon as it appears, it’s gone again, hurtling towards the other side of the planet. Okay, I guess the summer doesn’t do that last part. However, seeing that dot streak across the sky knowing that astronauts are aboard never disappoints, and appreciating those small windows of time draws many parallels in my mind with the summer months.

Like I said, I don’t think I can be introspective just yet, but this summer has been a wild ride to say the least. So instead, I’ll end by making another plug for stargazing from home, something I’ve found can be a much-needed, albeit brief distraction from everything going on in the world. So stay curious, and look up every once in a while -- you might get to see that wonderful, international feat of engineering orbiting at 17,000 mph.

Week 10: Connecting the Dots

I’m glad I waited a couple days after our symposium to write this. The end of the week was something of a blur, exciting and interesting to be sure, but I think I’m better able to reflect back on the summer, now that things have quieted down. Friday was busy, with our symposium kicking off the day followed by a send-off Zoom party for the Congressional interns at the House Science Committee office in the afternoon. It feels weird saying goodbye to so many people virtually, but it’s been exciting to interact with individuals doing such different, but equally fascinating work throughout the summer. Similarly, one aspect of the SPS internship that I continue to appreciate is the variety of all the positions. I was amazed by the projects done by my fellow interns on topics ranging from physics history, to modeling severe storms, to journal writing and policy work. This is a special group, and although it’s disappointing we didn’t get to meet in person, I think there’s a unique type of bonding that takes place among the “pandemic cohort.” Plus, we’ve all agreed to meet at some point (maybe in Washington D.C.?) once it’s safe to do so.

My hope is that this blog, and perhaps this post in particular, can serve as some sort of reference for future Mather interns, not least because reading through old blog posts was a valuable resource for me. It seems something of a cliché to base the final post on a quote, but there’s a line from a 2005 Steve Jobs commencement speech at Stanford that I’ve often thought about this summer:

“You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.”

This line has made appearances in a variety of motivational videos and posters, so it may not be new to many people. I heard it a long time ago, and while I thought it had a nice ring to it, I didn’t turn it into some sort of life motto or really buy into its principle. I’m a planner by nature. I try to think ahead as far into the future as possible, and those who know me understand that I find uncertainty annoying and work hard to avoid it when possible. Unfortunately, uncertainty is now pervasive in all of our lives, on a global scale. To make a stretch physics analogy, it feels as though we are in a perpetual superposition, and every time we try to take a measurement, the conditions change and we’re unable to collapse the wave function into anything resembling certainty or precision. Such is the nature of a global pandemic.

My point here is not to tell the reader what she or he already knows -- at the time of writing (summer 2020) the world is still rather upended. My point is that even in this time of stress and uncertainty, I’ve still been able to connect some dots looking back on the last ten weeks. In March, it felt like the metaphorical dots had exploded into chaos (an analogical demonstration of the 2nd law of thermodynamics if you will), especially as we drew closer to the summer and it became apparent we wouldn’t be in D.C. It’s true, our internships looked different than we expected, and I think it’s fair to be disappointed about not being able to interact with people in-person at SPS and each of our placement sites. However, one silver lining that I’ve realized over the weeks, is that there exists a heightened level of perspective to be gained working in Congress during challenging times.

I went into this internship with a broad goal of better understanding the science-policy nexus and gaining perspective on how people in the science community impact legislation. I think I gained insight into these areas through multiple projects I worked on across our subcommittee jurisdictions, but perhaps more importantly, I feel like I gained additional perspective on the humanistic elements of science policy. To date, the House Committee on Science, Space, & Technology has held 15 briefings and 6 full committee hearings related to COVID-19, addressing issues such as vaccine and therapeutic development, viral transmission in aircraft, and environmental health equity and justice. These are scientific issues, to be sure, but they are also human issues, and I was encouraged to see both members of Congress and expert witnesses address them as such. The wheels of government turn slowly, but I feel a sense of pride in seeing the office I worked at rise to the occasion through these events, and I remain hopeful that those hearings and briefings and the legislation they inform will provide meaningful assistance to people across the country in the near and long term.

The Mather policy positions were created to expose undergraduate students to government work early in their education in order to give them the necessary tools to navigate a policy environment effectively as scientists. I feel my experience this summer delivered on that mission, albeit in a way I would not have dreamed of before March. Now, even in uncertain times, I feel confident saying COVID-19 and the fallout it has created will impact the research and policy landscape for decades to come, and it will be important for both future scientists and policy-makers alike to understand those impacts as it relates to their work and the public whom they serve.

So, to future Mather interns who might be reading this, I encourage you to be comfortable with uncertainty by trusting your own adaptability under such conditions. I truly don’t know what the world will be like in a year. I hope things have improved and you’re able to go to D.C. However, even if you’re working remotely, I promise that this can and will be a valuable experience. Whether you’re in a committee office, working for a member of Congress, or placed at a scientific agency, the circumstances of the world will shape your work, and vice versa, in more ways than one.

Thank you again to everyone at the SPS national office and the House Science Committee for working so hard to make these summer internships possible. Thank you to my fellow interns both on the Hill and at SPS for your camaraderie, insight, and spur of the moment happy hours. This summer has, in many ways, been an unforgettable dot. I’ve learned a lot, and met so many kind and fascinating people. I can’t yet say definitively all the ways in which this summer will impact my future experiences, but I plan to stay curious, stay vigilant and continue to trust that this amazing, ten-week dot will connect with others down the road. I encourage you, the reader, to do the same.