I also wish there were ways to publicly acknowledge (and hopefully support) those who spend years of their lives working towards PhDs they never finish. For many it is a deeply private loss, with so few people knowing what happened and even fewer understanding the biting sense of personal failure you can feel.
I never made any sort of announcement when I left, and so had very little closure. Graduate school just ended and just trying to survive demanded my full attention in other areas. All I have left now is my unfinished dissertation, complete with the acknowledgement section I wrote.
It reads like a eulogy to a life I never had, to the shattered dreams I left behind, and to the naivete of my younger self. Perhaps there is some poetic value in there, but no one but myself will ever read it now. When it finally disappears it will, appropriately, be in a manner similar to how my failed PhD ended, with no one noticing and no one mourning its passing.
As a chemist who has actually done micro fabrication work, this reads to me like a classic case of a non-chemistry company trying to do chemistry R&D and finding out it’s a lot more complicated to follow all the rules than they thought it would be.
Robust chemical safety systems (both equipment, procedures, and employees) are expensive to implement and maintain, and they don’t scale downward easily. Companies doing small-scale production or R&D tend to have the worst practices.
That said, the findings in this EPA report don’t seem terrible, just indicative of a sloppy small-scale operation. Finding labeling issues is the lowest of low hanging fruit for any sort of chemical inspector, and Apple not being able to manage even that is just sad.
Page 22 indicates there is some sort of semiconductor process at the facility:
> "EPA observed that the sign posted on Solvent Tool 8-113 (B(4)) in Apple’s B(4) Area needs to be updated to remove the chemical “B(4)” from the posted sign, which according to Apple is no longer being used in the facility’s semiconductor process."
Rome had the advantage of access to essentially unlimited forced labor in order to build and maintain their infrastructure. Modern engineering is absolutely superior to Roman engineering, but we do have to contend with budget constraints, at least in part because we're not using slavery to build our roads.
They still had to feed the slaves, and they were certainly not unlimited. In fact, many roads were built by Roman legions themselves, not slaves. (the engineers were also soldiers).
I’m reading this more like “New York Times reporter discovers used electric vehicles exist, cost less than new ones.”
Used EVs have been affordable for years. In fact, cars like the Nissan Leaf have depreciated so quickly that they’re a downright bargain (as long as your use case lines up with the limited range).
You have to be careful with used Leaf's. The ones close to $10K usually need a new (unavailable) battery. Initially, they shipped them without charge / active battery temperature management, so the old ones ate batteries.
This isn't true of newer Leafs. You can easily find a decent used one closer to $20K.
It should be obvious at this point that Valve simply does not care about TF2.
There is no one at the organization that does more than the absolute bare minimum to keep the servers up and the loot crate cash rolling in.
At this point, I think it’s best for the player base to just give up on it and let TF2 rest in peace. It had a real good run, but in the end it died due to developer neglect. It’s time to move on.
This is far more common that you would think. Just a generation ago, science degrees required students to learn foreign languages (Russian, German, French, etc.) so they could read journals to be kept up to date on the latest scientific findings. There are still a significant number of 'lost' research out there waiting to be rediscovered and publicized.
I have a Bachelors degree in Ancient Near Eastern Studies. I was told that if I wanted to do a graduate degree, I would have to learn to read French and German since the majority of research was written in those languages.
Me, more or less. I knew in 4th grade wanted to be a scientist. And I went on to get a few chemistry degrees. Currently work in the pharmaceutical industry.
As a counter example, I will offer my own experience in graduate school. I was one of the few married students and observed that nearly all the successful graduates students had the following in common:
1. They had competent PhD advisors
2. The advisors had stable funding sources
3. They were single
Of those three, #1 and #2 were by far the most important. Certain professors just knew how to run a good lab and were able to shepherd their students through the program efficiently.
As for the impact of #3, I found as a married student I had to balance my research and teaching responsibilities with the needs of my spouse. It added a level of mental and emotional stress my single colleagues didn’t have to deal with.
Ultimately, my balancing act was unsuccessful. I eventually dropped out of my PhD program and ended up divorced.
So yeah, based on my anecdotal (N=1) experience, being married doesn’t not help you to be successful in graduate school.
To be honest, I found the exact opposite to be true. I agree with the author regarding the happiness during grad school being directly related to being married.
As a matter of fact, I don't think I would have finished my PhD had my wife not supported me mentally, economically, and in spirit. I've observed our single students struggle, complaining about having to do chores after classes, clean, cook, look after themselves. Whereas my spouse was supportive and understanding, she took a colossal load off my shoulders - I could concentrate on my studies and had little to no worries outside of school. We both worked, but she worked full time to support us and got a master's degree, so she knew all too well that grad school isn't peanuts.
I think it's more so about having a good spouse who is understanding and supportive, who can meet you halfway.
I wrote my response while you posted, but it basically supports what I was saying.
> I think it's more so about having a good spouse
I wouldn't say it's about a "good" spouse. It's tough, and if it's too much for the spouse, maybe the grad student should consider dropping out. Nobody knows how it's going to work until they do it. This is especially true if they moved far from home for grad school.
I'd say fit is very important. Some advisors will provide students with feedback, give them direction, and wait for the students to come back with output. Other advisors will micromanage students, give them tight deadlines, get upset if they don't strictly follow everything they say and every deadline, and generally give the student no freedom to do anything on their own.
The thing to keep in mind is that grad students usually work well in one of those environments, but few students will thrive in both.
> as a married student I had to balance my research and teaching responsibilities with the needs of my spouse. It added a level of mental and emotional stress my single colleagues didn’t have to deal with.
This can go in several directions. Your experience is obviously the most common. In some cases the spouse is counting on the grad student to finish and get a high-paying job. They take care of everything like paying bills, shopping, cooking, etc. I've also seen cases where the spouse sacrificed so the grad student could finish (so they could have a higher income and start a family) and it put so much pressure on the grad student that they were breaking down.
That’s only really true for bicycle with modern rubber wheels. Attempting to ride through the mud or on rough surfaces with wooden wheels would have been much more challenging (not to mention uncomfortable).
I never made any sort of announcement when I left, and so had very little closure. Graduate school just ended and just trying to survive demanded my full attention in other areas. All I have left now is my unfinished dissertation, complete with the acknowledgement section I wrote.
It reads like a eulogy to a life I never had, to the shattered dreams I left behind, and to the naivete of my younger self. Perhaps there is some poetic value in there, but no one but myself will ever read it now. When it finally disappears it will, appropriately, be in a manner similar to how my failed PhD ended, with no one noticing and no one mourning its passing.