Researcher blogs

“…and more knowledge is hidden in some unexpected corners where I never even imagined I could ever go looking.” (Source: KI blog post “Meet the blogger: Amy Hillen”)

You know how we all have certain routines and certain things we can do on autopilot, because we do them every day and often without thinking? Well, that is how today’s read begins and ends. What follows is a short story on the perils of antiquated equipment and the things we easily take for granted.

Let me introduce to you a fellow scientist who is currently keeping some cells alive and starts off the day by turning on the LAF hood and the light inside, as one does. Unfortunately for this scientist, on this day, the light has given up the ghost. So, while the scientist proceeds with their work in the dark, it is now time for me to shine as the lab manager who can efficiently solve this problem…

Fast-forward to the point where I’m informed that spare parts, including the fluorescent light tube, are no longer produced for this hood. Long live old instruments! Time to find a suitable alternative. It did not take me very long to discover that fluorescent tubes in se are not really produced anymore either, or definitely not in the particular size of our deceased tube. We have now progressed into an era of LED tube lights. (Though I have forgotten most of it by the time that I am writing this story, I can tell you that I learned a lot about different types of LED tube lights.) Some research time later, I – almost – confidently select my champion model to replace our old tube light.

The shiny new LED light arrives.
With an old manual in hand and hope in my heart, I install it.
I press the light button. Everything remains dark.
I must have done something wrong.

After this disappointing moment, the investigation is re-initiated; double-checking the information about LED tube lights, learning more about fuses, electricity, and so on. Based on some new-found insights, I re-install the new light twice more without any improvement in it working. I rubber-duck with my colleagues and come up empty-handed. Time to call for reinforcements. The assistance I receive from facility management is wonderful, as always, but I learn nothing new and the lack of light persists. The supplier of the new tube light provides lovely customer support, but I am faced with more questions than answers. I am starting to run out of ideas.

Time moves on (measured in days) and the search for a solution is progressing very slowly at this point. Then, suddenly, one of my colleagues congratulates me on getting the light working again. Confusion hits, as I am still under the firm impression that I have done no such thing. However, when I go to see the truth of the matter, it turns out that the light is, in fact, shining brighter than it ever has before.

I can tell you that there had never actually been a problem with the new light or with the installation. More importantly, the trouble, or should I say solution, lied in habit and expectation. Our fellow scientist, who was introduced earlier, had started off that particular day by turning on the LAF hood and the light inside, as one routinely does when one expects it to work. And fortunately, on this day, the light came alive brilliantly.

The habit of turning on the entire hood, and not just the light, exposed the consequence of the order in which one presses the individual buttons to start individual components of the equipment. (Spoiler alert: the light only works when the fan is on.) More importantly, it exposed how easily we can fall into routines without really thinking about why they work. We take for granted that everything just functions as expected, and when it does not, we sometimes forget to look at the simplest possible solution first.

So, did I efficiently get the light to work? Maybe so (arguably), maybe not. I leave the decision up to you. Regardless, I was reminded about the importance of always testing the entire instrument, and not only new parts after replacement, whatever the envisaged relevance or futility of doing so. More so, I was reminded that sometimes, it is sufficient to simply go through all the basic and usual steps.

With the end of this story, I invite you to take a step back the next time you go through the motions of your specific routines and take note of your actions. Notice the sequence in steps and consider if there may be a crucial reason for the precise order in which you go through your routine. Then, when it is your turn to change a (metaphorical) light bulb, maybe you will require a few less scientists to realise success.