I remember the first time
I actually got my computer code to work.
I was like… (gasps).
It was one of the defining moments
of my entire life.
I’ll say this with a smile
but my thesis was completed last century, in 1999.
I was at Harvard University as a graduate student
and I did my thesis on a brand new type of object: exoplanets.
It might have been one of the first,
if not the first PhD thesis on exoplanets,
but it was so off the beaten path
that people had no idea what it even was.
I remember getting interviewed for a post-doctoral job
and the person interviewing me said,
‘well, what do you do on a daily basis?’
And he had no idea that I’d do
the same thing all those other postdocs do.
Exoplanet atmospheres is now a mainstream field of research
but the things that people write about now,
are here in this thesis.
When I look back at my thesis
and think of how fundamental
and how foundational it was, it just feels great.
I think most of the time, I remember, was programming.
The computer is our experiment
and that’s what the computer code is:
it’s my laboratory; it’s my experiment.
Most of the theory existed
and I was just trying to model it
or implement it in a new regime.
I actually only learned how to program as a graduate student
– not what I’d recommend.
Was it a difficult choice to make for you,
when your supervisor suggested this thesis?
It’s actually hard to remember.
Let me think for a moment…
Like, often I find students vote with their feet.
They often don’t make a conscious, immediate choice,
but they just start working more and more on a problem
and eventually it’s theirs.
I think in my case I probably jumped on it
but, believe it or not,
I was far from committed to a career in science.
I recall at the same time,
a couple of students had graduated and
had left astronomy
and gone into Silicon Valley.
And they sent us emails saying they love me,
they want more of me… If you’re interested, call.
But by the time I knew I loved what I was doing
and I think even then I had the inklings
that if I were to go into business or finance or Silicon Valley,
I would make a ton of money,
only to retire and do astronomy research.
So I think deep down, it was all working out in the mean-time.
What would be the point of that, right?
I haven’t felt the need to go back to the
Harvard Library
and look for my thesis
but I know my thesis is always there if I need
it.
I’ve met people who cry when they give away their kids’ baby clothes,
but I was never one of those.
I’m done, and now I move on,
and so I think I felt the same way about the thesis.
Does that make sense?
It doesn’t mean it’s any less important,
like the kids’ first shoes, or whatever.
In exoplanets, the best planet,
the best discovery is the next discovery
and there’s always something better to do in the future.
There’s more work to do – bigger things to get on to.
And so I don’t look back and dwell on the thesis at all,
but I’m still very proud of it.
If I could come back as an apparition
and tell the younger Sara
– give her some great advice –
all I would simply say is… ‘hang in there.’
I think the role of the PhD today
is the same as it ever was.
It’s to teach students how to do research;
how to have a deeper level of thinking that you won’t get
without being faced with a challenging problem.
Probably the best thing that stays with me from my thesis
was that very, very, very, hard problems can be solved.
I think that’s it really.
One’s life is just consumed with the thesis
and I just remember when I was finishing it,
I didn’t go to any other talks,
I didn’t really read the news…
It was just, put the blinkers on and get the job done.
And there’s something very satisfying
about devoting yourself to a single task,
and the clarity of thinking
and being in the zone all the time.
It’s very satisfying. The world goes away.
Do you ever have that?
Sometimes you’re playing an instrument
and you just realise the whole world went away,
or you can be doing some activity.
And so when you’re in that zone actually,
you’re happy. That’s how it is.
