What
'sparked off' your initial interest in palaeontology? As a child I was fortunate
enough to live a couple of minutes from some major marine fossil sites in Summerville/Charleston,
South Carolina, USA. I went through the usual stamp-collecting stage where I
used to collect mostly marine fossils like sharks teeth, fish vertebrae, and
whale bones. Charleston and the surrounding areas are noted as one of the most
prolific fossil marine mammal sites in the world. After dabbling in fossil collecting
as a kid and helping Albert Sanders, a curator at the Charleston museum (and
he's still there after a century) with digging up some fossil archaeocete whales
in my neighbourhood, I didn't study palaeontology in a scientific way until
I went to university in 1992. Aside from the enjoyment of collecting fossils
as a kid, I was also totally obsessed with fish (the excitement of which was
tempered when I discovered girls, skateboarding, and cars). It was a dream of
mine to work with both fish and fossils which has now come true.
Was yours the most obvious route? The answer is a simple No and Yes.
No, because before I came to study palaeontology in earnest, I spent ten years
as a submarine logistician making sure that the attack submarines I was assigned
to were properly equipped to complete their mission, which in case you were
wondering, is to make the enemy 'extinct'. After leaving the Navy at the age
of 28, I enrolled at the College of Charleston to study accounting (yes I'm
a masochist). After about a year I was bored with that and changed my major
to pursue marine biology, but soon got bored with that too. My wife, who is
English, suggested that I try doing a year abroad. She cunningly said, 'England
perhaps'. So I applied and was accepted by UCL where I liked the change so much,
I stayed and did a complete honours degree in biology - one of only a handful
of U.S. students insane enough to start over at a foreign university. From this
point I have to revert to the 'Yes' answer. After graduating at UCL in 1997
I decided I wanted to pursue seriously the research game, where the requirement
for a Ph.D. was an advantage. I was fortunate enough with the kind support of
Adrian Lister (UCL) to secure a three-year NERC studentship. At present I am
nearing the end of my thesis write-up which will be submitted by December 2001.
What was your area of research and why? Research area: Acanthodian ('spiny
shark') systematics. Why? Because I enjoy inflicting large amounts of pain on
myself. Mike Coates, my Ph.D. supervisor, approached me as an undergraduate
with the idea of testing cladistically the idea of acanthodian inter- and intra-relationships.
The problems with this group intrigued me because here you have a large array
of primitive gnathostomes which nobody knew how to manage systematically - not
an uncommon story for those who study related Devonian taxa. So the acanthodian
motto has been: Are we not sharks? we are devo, are we not bony fish? devo,
and so the story goes. The literature is rife with a sort of confused 'hand
waving' which settles by default for the idea that acanthodians are most likely
paraphyletic, so I and my colleague, Gavin Hanke (Univ. of Alberta) will be
publishing in this area, hopefully adding some 'meat' to the acanthodian systematic
skeleton.
If you were to start over I would have gone into extant benthic fish
studies. Unlike acanthodians which follow a fairly conservative body plan, today's
deep-sea fishes are without a doubt a morphologist's dream or nightmare depending
on your view of useful characters. Otherwise, I would most likely have entered
the world of corporate mergers/breakups, where although the likelihood of a
Nature paper is zilch, the monetary rewards could fund a group of hungry
palaeontologists. Failing that I wouldn't mind being Dave Martill's stage manager
at conferences.
What is it like to get through a Ph.D. without a relevant job waiting for
you at the end? Like doing your own molar extractions without the benefit
of a cocain-based drug. It has been demoralising at times, especially after
you look at all of the years you have devoted to your science and don't see
an immediate reward for your effort. But I must admit that I came into palaeontology
with both eyes wide open. One of the wonderful things about our discipline is
that one doesn't have to be affiliated with an academic institution (in a research
capacity) to be productive and publishing. I was fortunate enough to have the
experience and drive to do other things until the golden opportunity (a real
palaeo job) rears its head. One way I combatted the jobless palaeo-blues was
to publish in a major journal early. I did this in 1999 with Dave Martill as
my co-author. I just couldn't wait 4+ years before seeing the fruits of my labours.
If a student of mine asked me if they should publish while as a Ph.D. student,
I would say yes if the drive and extra commitment are there. I have had two
good bites at the palaeo-cherry if you will, but both opportunites fell through
due to a lack of funding on one and some research council redtape on the other.
But my experiences in trying to land a palaeo job pale in comparison to some
others I'm sure.
How long are you prepared to hang around for an opening? With a growing
family to take care of (just added the second branch to my cladogram in the
form of my son, Theo, in June), it will be harder for me to jump from permanent
bureaucrat to peripatetic researcher. But like many of you lurking out there,
I too am waiting for someone to retire, die, or be found in a compromising position
with a specimen or two, which will signal another rare opportunity for employment
in our beloved science.
Sam Davies
St George's Hospital Medical School, Cranmer Terrace, Tooting, London