False Alarm

I am still getting used to the fact that in scientific research you are either right or wrong. In the humanities and even social sciences you can pretty much say whatever you want as long as your argument is persuasive. Never with science.

In my limited scientific background I have never been wrong. I feared being wrong, especially in Mr. Nichols' 11th grade chemistry class during quals, wherein we had 4 chances to determine 3 given chemicals correctly for our entire grade. The process lasted weeks, and though one of my favorite teachers, his goal here was to mess with our vials to make them as hard to determine as possible. Needless to say I got them all right in the first 3 trials. Maybe I worry too much.

But last night I experienced the horror of what I thought was being wrong in science. It was probably one of the worst feelings I have ever had. It must have been what the other juniors felt whom Nichols mercilessly failed, but exponentially worse. I felt my doctoral hypothesis slowly crumbling around me, and there was nothing I could do. After convincing myself not to have a nervous breakdown, I slowly moved the mouse over to the left-hand side of the computer screen to a folder called, "Alternative Research Ideas".

Thankfully there were at least two ideas here that I could work with. But you know what? I didn't need them after all because about 2 hours later, I realized that my hypothesis would work. I wasn't actually wrong; I was fake wrong. I made what some call a Type I error. At least it wasn't 2 years from now, right? Like this guy:



I think I'm going out for a drink to celebrate not being wrong. Oh, wait, it's only 3pm. Oh, wait, I live in Ireland.

cheers.
Hillary