To present stimuli for my experiments in the lab, I use Psychophysics Toolbox (Psychtoolbox) in conjunction with Matlab.

One limitation of Psychtoolbox is that the included DrawFormattedText function does not allow text to be horizontally  centered on a point other than the horizontal center of the screen. That frustration doesn’t seem to make much sense, but what I mean by it is that you cannot offset the centering (as you could by choosing to centering within different columns of a table) – If you try and place the text anywhere other than the horizontal center of the screen, the text must be left-aligned.

This means that, when using the original DrawFormattedText,  instead of nice-looking screens like this:

Note that words 1 and 3 are well centered within their boxes

you get this:

Note that word 2 is centered, but words 1 and 3 are left-aligned within their boxes

which is a little messy.

To fix this, I have modified the  DrawFormattedText file to include an xoffset parameter. It’s a very basic modification, that allows text to be centered on points offset from the horizontal center of the screen.  For example, calling DrawFormattedText_mod with:
1) xoffset set to -100, centers text horizontally on a point 100 pixels to the left of the horizontal center of the screen.
2) xoffset set to rect(3)/4 (where rect = Screen dimensions e.g. [0 0 1024 768]), centers text horizontally 1/3 of the way from the left hand edge.
I haven’t replaced my DrawFormattedText.m with my DrawFormattedText_mod.m just yet, but it has been added to the path and seems to be doing the trick.

You can download my DrawFormattedText_mod.m here: https://dl.dropbox.com/u/4127083/Scripts/DrawFormattedText_mod.m

Raspberry Pi schematic from http://www.raspberrypi.org

I think the Raspberry Pi is going to be fantastic, for reasons summed up very nicely by David McGloin – the availability of such a cheap and versatile barebones technology will kickstart a new generation of tinkerers and coders.

It’s worth mentioning that this kickstart wouldn’t just be limited to the newest generation currently going through their primary and secondary school educations. Should my hands-on experience of the device live up to my expectations (and the expectations of those who have bought all the units that went on sale this morning), I will be ordering a couple for each PhD student I take on. After all, what’s the point in using an expensive desktop computer running expensive software on an expensive OS to run simple psychology experiments that have hardly changed in the past 15 years? What’s the point when technology like the Raspberry PI is available for £22? Moreover, if you can get researchers to present experiments using a medium that has also helped them pick up some of the most desirable employment skills within and outwith academia, expertise with and practical experience in programming, then I think that’s a fairly compelling argument that it would be irresponsible not to.

But won’t I have missed a critical period in my students’ development from technology consumers into technology hackers?

No.

Every psychology student can and  should learn how to code (courtesy of Matt Wall), and it’s never too late.  I  learned to code properly in my twenties, during my postdoc. The reason it took me so long was that I had never needed to code in any serious goal-driven way before this time. Until the end of my PhD, Superlab and E-Prime had been perfectly passable vehicles by which I could present my experiments to participants.  My frustration with the attempts of these experiment presentation packages to make things ‘easy’, which ended up making things sub-optimal, led me to learn how to use the much ‘harder’ Matlab and Psychophysics Toolbox to present my experiments.  Most importantly, I was given license to immerse myself in the learning process by my boss. This is what I hope giving a PhD student a couple of Raspberry Pis will do, bypassing the tyranny of the GUI-driven experiment design package in the process.  Short-term pain, long-term gain.

In a few years, my behavioural testing lab-space could simply be a number of rooms equipped with HDMI monitors, keyboards and mice. Just before testing participants, students and postdocswill connect these peripherals to their own code-loaded Raspberry Pis, avoiding the annoyances of changed hardware settings, missing dongles and unre

liable network licenses. It could be brilliant, but whatever it is, it will be cheap.

I’m taking part in a Guardian live chat this Friday (1-4pm BST) titled ‘Surviving your first academic post.’ With this topic in mind, I’m noting some preliminary thoughts under a few themes.

The points below relate to my first 10 months as a lecturer at St Andrews and aren’t at all relevant to my postdoc experience which was, by and large, extremely easy to navigate and the most enjoyable period of my career so far. It’s also important to make the context from which I am making these observations clear.  I am privileged in that I am on a permanent contract, the first five years of which comprise a SINAPSE research fellowship which means I have a minimal teaching load.  That said, I do have an admin load and I have the additional responsibility to promote neuroimaging within the department and across the SINAPSE network.

Before you accept the job – You’ll start evaluating whether a position is right for you from the moment you see the advert.  Beyond whether you are the ‘type’ of academic the institution is after, you’ll also consider the department is right for you (is it the right size? could you collaborate with anyone? are there local research facilities? is it the right calibre of institution for you?), whether you could live there (is it too big/small a city? too far to move? too isolated?) and whether you could actually do what you enjoy about academia there (is the teaching load too heavy? if you did your PhD/postdoc there, could you get taken seriously as a PI). All of these thoughts feed into the rather nebulous concept of ‘fit’ which, it turns out, is rather important to you enjoying your potential new job.

When I interviewed at St Andrews, everyone I spoke to mentioned how small the town is.  I didn’t think it would be a problem, but on moving here, the realisation that I had never previously lived outside a city certainly hit home. Within my first few weeks here I understood that this common point of conversation had been an important warning. Starting your first academic post can be lonely (even if you go with family), and being in a place that doesn’t feel right for you can make you feel even lonelier. I would never have turned down the offer to work here, but I suspect that another candidate for the job I went on to accept did, and it was probably something to do with ‘fit’.

Start-up negotiations are also worth devoting some thought to once you’ve established that the ‘fit’ is going to be satisfactory. You’ll have to walk a fine line between making sure you don’t do yourself out of money you will need to set up a lab that is capable of doing the research you are being employed to do, and asking for too much and appearing (or being) greedy. My experience of start-up negotiation was that the equipment I wanted was a lot easier to obtain than the scanner time I wanted. Colleagues have mentioned an informal loan arrangement where the School provided expensive equipment on condition that costs be recouped further down the line, so that could be a useful negotiation strategy, particularly when expensive equipment is required from the outset. One thing I wish I had done was to speak to an academic who had recently started, to ascertain where they thought they went wrong in their start-up request. I, for example, realised too late that I would have to buy my own printer toner, which ended up having to come out of my research budget for the 2010/2011 academic year.

Your first weeks – These are lonely and stressful. Simple things like making external phone calls can be challenging. Of course, people offer their help and advice, but you want to appear capable and self-sufficient so you end up spending far too much time working things out on your own.  If there are other new hires in your department, pooling your newly acquired knowledge will help. Induction events are also a good way to get to know people throughout the University.

Department coffee mornings are supposed to be an excellent way of establishing yourself amongst your new colleagues.  But, I found these to be something of a double-edged sword.  Despite the social benefits, there will be times you wish you hadn’t gone. Within a week of starting, going to grab some coffee had led to me being roped in to give a cover lecture on probability theory. I felt like hiding in my office after that (and I did for a while), but the best strategy is to…

Learn how to say “no” – You won’t want to appear uncollegiate, but people will ask you to do things until you learn how to say “no”. You’ll probably receive a lot of requests to cover lectures and complete one-off tasks in your first few weeks.  Some of this is down to people wrongly assuming that you won’t have anything else to do, and some of it, I think, is down to people testing the water and seeing whether you are a ‘yes-(wo)man’ who will agree to anything.

Crafting that first refusal will probably take a lot of time, but it is an important step to take.  Just make sure that you:
a) can demonstrate that you have shown willing (it helps to have said “yes” at least once before your first “no”);
b) say why you are refusing (not the right person for the job, have already said “yes” to too many other requests, too little time at this stage, though happy to muck in next semester when things have settled, etc.);
c) don’t let the task you initially agreed to morph into something that you would never have agreed to in the first place (e.g. it’s OK for a “yes” to become a “no” if a one-off lecture turns into longer-term cover for a lecturer on maternity leave).

Saying “no” gets easier, it just takes a bit of practice.  With some strategic refusals and a bit of luck, you’ll calibrate the system so that you’re not having to say “no” to very much because people making requests of you will make sure that you really are the right person for the job before asking.

If you run into a persistent problem of people making too many unreasonable demands of you, a mentor who is looking out for your interests will help. I haven’t yet had to call on my mentor for this, but I’m fairly certain that she has been doing so anyway, if only by not suggesting me for admin duties whose allocation she controls.

Time – When I was a postdoc, nothing felt too difficult.  All anything took was time, sometimes plenty of it, but it didn’t matter because time was something I was given plenty of.  I spent months learning Matlab, weeks scripting analyses and days making a couple of lines of code to do just what I wanted them to do. Now, some tasks are too difficult because I don’t feel I have the time to devote to them. Of course, I have much more time than I would if I had a full teaching load, but I have much less time than I had as a postdoc.

To remedy this perceived lack of time, I’m considering devoting a few weeks here and there to an ‘at-work-retreat’.  That is, I will go to work, and just work on what I need to work on to get analyses done and papers written without the distraction of e-mail, admin jobs (which will be put on hold) and teaching. I think it might even be appropriate to use an e-mail auto-response, the exact working of which I will have to be very careful about, to let people know of my unavailability. This fellowship period of my job should be a perfect opportunity for me to do this sort of thing and it may be something worth writing about on the blog at a later date.

Money – I need to funding to carry out neuroimaging. I therefore need grant funding. I don’t mind that the School strongly encourage me to apply for grant-funding because I need to apply for it anyway. That said, it feels like I have only just learned how to write journal articles and now I’m being asked to write in a totally different style with a totally different emphasis.  Applying for grant funding has probably taken more time than any other activity in my first 10 months here. It’s a shame, because I could have devoted this time to writing journal articles that would have added to my CV and made me more ‘fundable’.  Still, I need to do it at some stage, and now is as good a time as any.