Careers in
Field Work
The Author. I am an ecological morphologist. I study chimpanzee
posture, locomotion and food-getting practices in order to better understand why
apes have their peculiar anatomy. I use this knowledge to reconstruct the
lifeway of our earliest ancestors, after we branched off from the apes. You can
learn a little more about me and my research by visiting my website at
http://php.indiana.edu/~kdhunt/fieldwork.html.
Travel. Studying wild primates is enormously rewarding, but it
involves more drudgery and more plain hard work than most people imagine. Just
getting to a primate field site can be an adventure. Most primates eat the
fruits and leaves of trees in tropical forests. These same huge trees are prized
by a logging industry that grows more active in the tropics every year. Since
primates cannot live without the trees that produce their food, we
primatologist's find our study subjects in remote and inaccessible areas that
are not yet profitable to log. Primates are often found at the end of the trail,
after asphalt has trickled to gravel, and gravel has trickled to rutted dirt
tracks. Transportation to these remote areas is often a protracted,
uncomfortable affair. I often travel squeezed into the seat of a public bus
designed for people a head shorter than me. At times, I'm actually relieved when
circumstances force me to travel in the back of an open pickup truck. Most
researchers have learned to approach third world travel with a spirit of
adventure, but the personal risk, not to mention the risk to equipment, data and
personal belongings, can be disconcerting.
Primate Research: Behind the Scenes. When you see film of primates in
their natural home, you may catch a glimpse of a romantic, sun-dappled figure,
partly hidden in the foliage: the primatologist. There s/he is, scribbling
notes, surrounded by primates in a cool forest, seemingly far from the crush of
humanity and unconcerned by the everyday worries that nag we mere mortals. It
isn't like that. Contrary to this pleasing image, most of the time researchers
spend "in the field" is eaten up by everything BUT primate watching.
Buying food or other supplies, traveling to town to deal with bureaucracy,
supervising field assistants, repairing equipment, fussing with data sheets,
writing and submitting progress reports, coping with tropical diseases, and
finding ways to coexist with the crowd of researchers and local assistants who
are typically squeezed into a tiny, primitive primate research station are the
stuff of everyday life. A visiting scientist lucky enough to have a vehicle
inevitably becomes the local ambulance, likely to be called upon at any hour of
the day -- or night. You, relatively wealthy, college-educated, will often find
your medical supplies and medical training (don't protest you have none,
either!) are the best available. I have served as an emergency doctor many a
time when there was no other choice, twice in life-or-death circumstances
(results: one recovery, one death). If you are at all sympathetic, you'll enter
the forest many a day preoccupied with a serious health problem that one or
another of your associates or his or her family is having. And that's just the
health and welfare of your colleagues. What about you? I've been in hospitals
the sanitary condition of which would repel me if they were bus stations. You'll
not only have to do without modern medical facilities, but also without
electricity, running water, TV, and shopping as you know it. You can pretty much
count on getting some kind of tropical disease, and you'll be very lucky if you
don't get malaria.
It's easier than most would imagine to allow your focus to shift from primate
study to improving your own or someone else's living conditions. I know of field
workers who are so distressed by local poverty, disease or poor medical care
that they find it impossible to do their work. I minimize these distractions by
continually reminding myself to focus on my research, but I've known others to
become full-time social workers.
Forget That! Where are the Monkeys? All that may seem tolerable to
you, so your next question is, how can I get into the field fastest? You can't.
Perhaps there was a time when primatologists needed field assistants so
desperately that they were willing to hire untested but enthusiastic young
volunteers. If there was, that time has passed. A field project depends on
cooperation and a certain chemistry among field workers. There are many sad
stories, some of which I can relate from my own experiences, of a single
individual distressed by the poor food, or the close quarters, or homesickness,
or any one of a dozen things, who makes life miserable for the entire field
crew. Experienced field workers are job-tested and therefore less likely to
disrupt research, as a disgruntled novice might. If an experienced hand is not
available, there are so many willing and competent candidates that even
volunteers who are able to pay their own way are not likely to find work, if
they are not known to the researcher personally. I wanted to study primates when
I graduated from college, but it was six years before I saw my first wild
primate.
You can gain experience and perhaps make that all important first-contact by
attending a field school, volunteering at a zoo, or taking a primatology class.
Getting into the field through these methods, however, requires a certain amount
of luck and a lot of flexibility. When your boat comes in, pull out your wallet.
Your first time in the field you'll almost certainly have to pay your own way.
Graduate School. All this means that entering a primatology PhD
program is the most reliable route to the field. It's a tough row to hoe.
Primatology is not a mainstream academic discipline, and that means there are
few tenure-track jobs. As a consequence, graduate programs very responsibly
limit the number of primatology PhD's they produce. Some students opt for a PhD
program under the impression that graduate school admission requirements are
lower than those for medical school or law school. From what I've seen of
applicants to IU, it's the other way around. Competition is intense for the few
grad school slots available.
Sacrifice. It's also a long row to hoe. These days a PhD
requires at the very least 6 years of graduate school, and I know of very few
people who have managed it in fewer than 8 (I didn't). Graduate school is a
long, expensive, frequently ego-diminishing experience that is worth it only if
you wouldn't be happy doing anything else. Before deciding to pursue a doctorate
you should be very honest with yourself about your intellectual abilities, your
work-ethic, your tolerance of poverty, and most of all your passion for
primatology. If there is another career where you'd be just as fulfilled
intellectually, choose it. I, for one, had no choice. I'm squeamish about
prodding sick and injured people, so a career in medicine was unattractive. My
interest in human evolution seemed to rule out law and business. Being a
veterinarian seemed to have too much to do with cows and cats. The potential
primatologist should consider very carefully, then, that becoming a doctor or a
lawyer requires less time in school (6 years after college for a doctor, part of
that with a salary, only 3 for a law or business degree, versus around 6 - 12
years for a PhD, 8 years average). Doctoring and lawyering not only take less
time to aieve, they pay better, too. Then there are the lifestyle sacrifices. If
you plan on having kids, you'll be having them very soon after graduate school,
since your biological clock (or your wife's) will be ticking. And if you have
kids, you'll be working your field research around them for years. Before you
seriously consider a career as a primatologist, weigh the toll these sacrifices
will make on your life.
Are You Saying It's Impossible? No, no, no--but you have to be
enormously dedicated. Almost all of the primatologists I know simply refused to
be told no, and kept trying until they finally got into the field. Most people
will give up, but if you're willing to make the sacrifices and perservere, you
WILL eventually succeed.
Where to from Here? If you're not opting for graduate school, consider
it a five-year plan. Take a college class in primatology, better yet attend a
field school, volunteer at the zoo, join email discussion groups, get involved
in a primate conservation organization like IPPL, and start reading scientific
journals to see what the issues are. If you're considering graduate school, the
essential first step is to make the best possible grades you can as an
undergraduate, so that a good graduate school will be in reach. I found the hard
work and sacrifice well worth it. Perhaps you will too. Good luck!
