Month: August 2018

When September Doesn’t Mean Back to School

At this point in my life, two years into my role at the National Library of Medicine, I greet Labor Day with a bit of nostalgia. I was an academic for 30 years, and spent most of the 25 years prior to that as a student, doing the school thing from kindergarten through grad school. You might say that my epigenome has been shaped by the academic calendar, with the waning summer sparking excitement over the promise of a new school year, new things to learn, new friends to make.

In contrast, September here brings the last month of the federal fiscal year, and let me tell you, it is busier than all get out! We have to finish grant awards. We must renew, close out, or refresh contracts, confirm (or move) project deadlines, and account for the year’s work. In addition, we are in the throes of preparing the Congressional Justification for our budget one year hence, so as we’re putting fiscal year 2018 (FY2018) to bed, we’re also starting to prepare the FY2020 budget—all while Congress debates the FY2019 appropriations. It’s a budgetary juggling act to keep all the plans and paperwork moving, and my colleagues who deal with grants, contracts, budget, and procurement will be thoroughly focused for the next four and a half weeks, making sure the balls don’t fall.

But amidst the fiscal frenzy, there’s still a hint of the old, familiar September and the promises that come with it of new things to learn and new friends to make.

This coming year, FY2019, we’ll be wrapping our arms fully around data science. Joyce Backus is leading an NLM-wide strategy to improve the data science knowledge and skills of our entire workforce. Our NCBI team is re-writing the book on secure data access, taking a modular approach to identity management and data access. The Tox team, in collaboration with other staff across NLM, is migrating our essential toxicology resources to a more modern and robust platform. And those are just a few examples.

As for the new people to meet—we’ve just launched a search for three new investigators for our intramural program; we’re growing our complement of contracts management staff; and we’re adding new program managers across Library Operations.

So in some ways, it is like my old Septembers only somewhere else, a different location but the same sense of newness, excitement, learning, and opportunity.

I hope all the students stepping into the classroom or on to campus this year find the same exhilaration greeting them. May you, your teachers, professors, and parents have a bright and successful academic year. And may the rest of us find the continued promise of fresh opportunities and new, innovative ways to serve science and society.

Imagine our future…and help make it happen

After two years of crafting a Strategic Plan and laying the groundwork for implementing its recommendations, NLM is ready to take the next step into our future. We’ve had committees and conversations, councils and presentations, and heard the advice and reactions of NLM staff, stakeholders near and far, and the many, many people around the world who use our services every day.

Today in Bethesda (and across the internet) we held our fourth Town Hall meeting in which the entire NLM leadership team met with as many NLM staff as we could cram into the Lister Hill Center Auditorium or log in to the webcast site. We reviewed the status of the Strategic Plan’s implementation, updated progress on particular initiatives, and sketched an outline of where we’re headed next.

I had heard good things from staff and colleagues about how much we’re communicating our plans and progress, but I’d also heard a niggling concern. Yes, yes, people understand the steps we’re taking, how far we’ve come, and what happens next, but the broad vision still isn’t very clear to some. Maybe not even to me.

To address that, I tried to capture during today’s Town Hall what NLM might look like as we reach our third century less than 20 years from now.

Our journey began, as they often do, at the beginning, as a small but growing collection in the Surgeon General’s Office in 1836. Thanks to the work of John Shaw Billings, that first century can best be thought of as a time of collecting and cataloging, building and organizing the physical foundation of the Library and its holdings. Our second century saw massive technological change, which allowed us to automate more of our work, and Don Lindberg ensured we leveraged the global computer networks to connect our resources and communicate their value to the world. Now, as we look ahead, I expect our third century to focus on curating the many resources we hold or connect to, and combining these massive data stores and literature repositories into robust information webs that accelerate data-driven discovery.

But to what end?

Imagine a world in which NLM assures global access to current, accurate, and trustable information. Imagine a world where instantaneous, inexpensive access to analytical methods and visualization tools stimulates creative answers to yet-unasked questions. Imagine ubiquitous access to important, relevant data to characterize health problems and the human response to disease, disability, and development. But don’t stop there. The third century will not only bring about better, faster, available-everywhere access to health information; it will also deliver integrated content able to elucidate the state and context of health.

The NLM of the future will build pathways between and among its books, articles, and data. It will suggest articles related to the one being sought and will put into the researcher’s hands advanced visualization and literature synthesis tools that match the speed of information presentation to the speed of human cognition. Interlinking tools will allow the investigator to hone in on a single protein structure and span out to the neighboring genes and chemical soup that stimulate the expression of that gene. The investigator will see that protein, the organ constructed by that and other proteins, and information about how to repair that organ should it be damaged from injury or disease. She’ll also find a seamless pathway from the gene to a patient’s electronic health record that includes images and test results depicting the phenotype arising from the gene’s expression, and she’ll be able to evaluate her findings in context by seeing the presentation of that phenotype across communities and the public.

Becoming such a library requires a blue print for action, a pathway to guide its members in the critical choices needed to make the imaginings real. Such a library also requires bravery among its staff members, who must face together a future characterized both by exciting opportunities and significant uncertainties. And such a library requires a 21st-century building with the technologies and flexibilities that can foster among its people the innovation and collaboration needed to create tools, design databases, and anticipate the future.

We’re on our way.

At today’s Town Hall, the NLM leadership described how we’ve assessed the quality and integrity of our existing services, spoke with gratitude of the advisors who identified the strengths and opportunities in our research programs, and acknowledged the countless staff members who have helped us understand both what we do best and what we must continue doing going forward. I join them now in thanking all of you for your time and input, for thinking with us about our future, and for evaluating critically and systematically not just what we can do to what we must do to remain strong and relevant in our third century.

For those of you reading this, I invite you to suggest, critique, engage, and debate about NLM’s future. Perhaps your guidance will be the one that arrives in the nick of time to clear the way to our next step. Otherwise, please stay with us and watch our imaginings become reality.

 

Happy anniversary to me!

Tomorrow, August 15, marks my two-year anniversary as director of the National Library of Medicine. Last year I acknowledged the occasion by reflecting on Bob Dylan’s famous line (appropriately, for a library, from the tune “My Back Pages”), “Ah, but I was so much older then…I’m younger than that now.”  This year I’m inspired more by the tone poems of Erik Satie, Ralph Vaughan Williams, and Jean Sibelius.

You don’t come here expecting a musicology lesson, but do permit a brief one.

A tone poem is a piece of orchestral music, usually in one movement, which evokes the content of a poem, novel, painting, or other work of art. In the case of these three composers, the weaving of their beautiful melodies evokes the Library’s many parts, all of which contribute to our amazing products and services. And they do this in perfect harmony.

These innovative compositions can also inspire me to tear up the rule book and move in unexpected directions. And one composition, Sibelius’ Finlandia, particularly resonates with my sense of patriotism, which helps sustain my commitment to this position and to the work we do.

What has also sustained me over the last two years is the amount of change I’ve seen and experienced.

As NLM Director, I’ve learned there is no need to go it alone. We are an ensemble, each of us bringing our talents and skills to the performance. As I’ve fully embraced that idea, I’ve recognized the most knowledgeable and skilled person for a job might be—and often is—someone other than me.

I’ve watched NLM’s leaders coalesce into a team, learning more about each other and what it’s going to take to prepare this institution and its people for its third century. Recognizing that the Library’s ongoing vitality requires harmonies and synergies between the various divisions, the leadership team and I meet twice a month to identify the themes or motifs that transcend our organizational boundaries. We look for ways to make more efficient use of our resources, to leverage human talent and ensure the robustness of our services.

We’re also tackling the strategic plan’s implementation, debating priorities, making trade-offs, and holding each other accountable. My colleagues have offered tremendous wisdom and guidance, and they’ve helped raise the bar, expecting more of me and of each other. I now do meetings as a high art, ensuring the time is used effectively and everyone leaves with a clear plan and action items. It’s work and it takes discipline, but it’s also encouraging and rewarding, and it leaves me hopeful for what lies ahead.

Along with the tempo I’ve set at NLM, I’ve found a rhythm for working across NIH. I meet every 1-2 weeks with NIH Director Dr. Francis Collins and the other Institute and Center (IC) directors. I serve on several trans-NIH committees, including the NIH Scientific Data Council and Data Science Policy Council. And I’m building more informal connections with many of my peer IC directors, getting together occasionally for meals to share best practices, avoid serious pitfalls, and help NIH and our respective ICs grow in our missions.

We’re well on our way. NIH leadership supports the NLM strategic plan. The Board of Regents is engaged with and guiding the implementation of our new initiatives. And staff at every level are involved in identifying tasks and milestones that will lead us toward our goals to accelerate discovery, improve health, reach more people, and build a skilled workforce.

And speaking of our workforce, I hope that everyone here recognizes that, like an orchestra, we need to work together to deliver the best performance we can and effectively serve science and society.

I continue to be both proud and grateful to lead this amazing institution. I look forward to the next movement.

A Vacation’s Gifts Are More Than Souvenirs

Ahhh, summer! Life at NIH and NLM doesn’t really slow down this time of year—in fact, with all the interns and visiting scholars on campus, it can seem even busier, more frenetic than normal—but the long days and warm weather still bring with them a welcome ease. They also usher in vacation season for many, including me.

I’m on vacation right now, spending time with family (including, at different points, my 25-year-old son, my 89-year-old mom, eight of my nine siblings, and at least a handful of my 27 nieces and nephews), exploring Atlantic Coast beaches with friends, knitting, reading, and relaxing.

Sometimes a vacation’s most important gift is time away, breaking free of the everyday, dabbling in novel pursuits, opening up to unexpected opportunities and surprising vistas. In fact, I cherish my time off for that, for the chance to press the reset button. It helps me feel better, and it’s critical to finding fresh perspectives and uncovering new ideas once I return to the office.

My being away also allows those back at the ranch to experience work life without me. My absence gives them a chance to grow by tackling issues on their own or negotiating a temporary shift in duties. And once I’m back, I appreciate the skills they’ve learned and must sometimes develop a few myself as I adapt to changes that occurred over those two weeks.

But vacations are also about what we do during them, and this doing delivers its own gifts.

I’m going to use some of this vacation to catch up with one of my sisters. We usually see each other three or four times a year, with quick visits squeezed in between work events or hectic family gatherings. But this week we’re just going to hang out, enjoying the luxury of a few days of unstructured time together. I’ll watch her garden (I never help, but I love seeing her creativity), and she’ll try (once again!) to learn knitting from me.

Mostly though we’ll talk, and I’ll devour this wise woman’s insights. We’re similar in a lot of ways, including some career overlap. She has worked as a health policy expert, leaving government to join a university faculty, while I—long the die-hard academic—joined government after a career in the academy. So aside from the family chatter and sisterly banter, I look forward to learning from her again, whether that’s how to manage an issue or ways to move within the government labyrinth.

I’m also going to spend a few days with a high school classmate. We’ve been friends for 50 years—through career changes, relocations, and family milestones (for me, a child; for her, a dog). She’s a business woman who launched her own company about a decade ago. I’m continually amazed at how brave she is, how open to meeting the world head on as she grows her business. I look forward to our time together and the chance to continue to build our relationship, finding new ways to get to know someone I already know so well.

And even that helps me at work. After all, it occurred to me that, when you run an organization that is almost 200 years old, there’s tremendous value in understanding how to refresh what you do while holding true to first principles.

Which, come to think of it, could be considered the very purpose of vacation.

So as you enjoy your vacation or stay-cation, your long weekend or afternoon off, try to embrace both the respite it offers and the opportunities it brings. We’ll all be better for it.

Photo credit (beach, top): Christopher Rusev on Unsplash