Interaction

February 15, 2006

A system of collaboration: The structures of multidisciplinarity

"Lab" may evoke visions of scientists in white coats; the important thing to note is not what they're wearing but that they're working together. Since 1949, Stanford's independent lab system has provided the basis for collaborative, multidisciplinary research here. And participants may not be wearing lab coats; in fact, they may not be scientists.

The network of 13 labs embraces an array of researchers from just about every field. There are physicists at Ginzton, Hansen, Kavli and Geballe, but physicists might also collaborate with the Global Climate and Energy Project, where ecologists and natural scientists might also work at Bio-X or the Institute for the Environment, whose social scientists might also find a home at the Stanford Institute for Economic Policy Research, where policymakers might also properly belong at the Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies, which in turn has launched a fellowship program with the Humanities Center.

As disciplines themselves stretch in new ways, their practitioners may find themselves literally all over the place.

"Stanford has always been happy to accommodate interdisciplinary and multidisciplinary research by building centers and labs," says Dean of Research Arthur Bienenstock, "but now we are entering a period in which the university is actively encouraging this research."

"Most interdisciplinary work is with just a few professors and it doesn't require a huge level of coherence and organized efforts," Bienenstock said. "But now we're taking in a much broader sphere and we will require an array of capabilities much broader than before. So this is different. We have to meet the needs of the departments but also build strengths to make programs work in an organized manner."

The changes Bienenstock referred to are part of the university's campaign to exponentially boost multidisciplinary research, a campaign in which the independent labs will play a key role.

The proximity of collaborators from different disciplines has always been a hallmark of Stanford. Very few (if any) universities can boast of a medical school, hospital, science departments and engineering school within five minutes' walking distance of one another. The tradition of faculty living on campus also has contributed to an atmosphere of multidisciplinary give and take. Bienenstock, at a November talk that was part of the "What Matters to Me and Why" series at Memorial Church, remembered that in the early years he met a geologist over a lawn mower, and a research project was born.

The coming, going and morphing of independent labs, of course, to some degree simply reflects the general state of knowledge, both at Stanford and beyond. In 1992, for example, the leaders of the Institute for Mathematical Studies in the Social Sciences (IMSSS), one of the pioneers in the study of computers and learning, decided that after more than 30 years the time had come to put it to rest. Some of the institute's projects were transferred to the Center for the Study of Language and Information, in many ways the natural successor to IMSSS. (See related story, page X.)

Now, three new efforts are in line to become independent labs, devoted to, respectively, longevity, ultrafast science and global positioning technology (http://news-service.stanford.edu/news/2005/september28/scpnt-092805.html).

As labs come and go (they come more than they go), physical space is something that can both define and differentiate them. Some directors insist on the importance of a separate building; some don't need a building but do need administrative independence, principally for fundraising; other research centers are not formal independent labs at all, but do their multidisciplinary work under the auspices of one of the seven schools, which works just fine for them.

Stanley Peters, a linguist, is of the firm opinion that without the independent lab system, the Center for the Study of Language and Information would never have come into existence. It needed to be an independent lab, he said.

"Stanford organizes interdisciplinary research in different ways; sometimes it's attached to departments, to the extent that the department is interdisciplinary," he said. "Sometimes it's attached to schools. So partly it's a bureaucratic arrangement, but Stanford has always supported weird groups of faculty getting together."

"Sometimes," said Carol Vonder Linden, the assistant dean of research, "a center needs to be standalone to get the attention it deserves. But sometimes not."

Some centers affiliated with a school later became independent labs. In other instances, as with the Institute for Research on Women and Gender and the former Center for Chicano Research, it's the other way around. Independent labs are not assumed to be permanent entities, either physically or administratively. They have a life cycle.

"When faculty request an independent lab, it means they're collaborating already," Vonder Linden pointed out. "They say, 'We need a structure, we need an animal to care for the administration of this.'"

Because each one of these "animals" requires new space, even if it doesn't have its own building, and new administrative and research resources, petitioners must be vetted by department chairs and the relevant deans before a formal proposal is even submitted. Once vetted, the matter goes to the dean of research, and from there to the provost. University policy RPH 2.9 (http://www.stanford.edu/dept/DoR/rph/2-9.html) states specifically that independent labs are "exceptions to the principle of organizing our research programs within regular academic channels," and the organizers of the new venture therefore must make an ironclad case that their purposes cannot be fulfilled by ordinary means.

Even with those administrative guarantees in place, there are some who believe more attention will need to be paid to structural issues as multidisciplinary research becomes the order of the day.

"Stanford needs to find a better way of managing interdisciplinary work other than setting up independent labs, because eventually the whole university is going to be an independent lab," said Amy Balsom, senior associate dean for finance and administration at the School of Earth Sciences. "We're going to get more and more fragmented."

That's one scenario; another is that Stanford will run out of space, of which there is a finite amount. Faculty researchers in independent labs generally have two offices or spaces; one at the lab, another at their department. Provost John Etchemendy (himself the former director of an independent lab) told Stanford Report in October that there is no unallocated space left on campus, though there is unoccupied space. Allocation is made through schools and departments, yet one of the reasons for the pressure on space is the growth of multidisciplinary research. Moving off campus, which is one solution, would relieve the pressure, but it also would work to counteract that long Stanford tradition of mixing it up on campus, and would make it more difficult for students to participate.

Not all independent labs require new buildings or physical proximity. The decision seems to depend on the subject matter, existing collaboration and the individuals involved. Yet clearly some physical contact is necessary, if just a meeting room with a good coffee maker.

"[Physical] structures respond to the needs of interdisciplinarity," said Roy Pea, co-director of the Center for Innovations in Learning. But likewise, all the interdisciplinary intentions in the world will not bear fruit if researchers cannot actually be in the same room. One of the top recommendations of a 2004 National Academy of Sciences report, "Facilitating Interdisciplinary Research," was that universities foster a collaborative environment for researchers, including physical places; one center director quoted by the NAS called interdisciplinary research "a body-contact sport."

Beyond potential physical and administrative challenges, any university trying to go from merely accommodating multidisciplinary research to encouraging it faces an intellectual challenge: How does one balance that goal and the goal of ensuring that department members are the best in their field and that graduate students receive a rigorous disciplinary education?

Among other things, university policy RPH 2.9 asks independent lab petitioners to explain how the new center will have a negative or positive impact on the participating faculty members' home departments. According to the worst-case scenario, researchers could go AWOL, never again to be seen by their department, too busy at the new lab doing cutting-edge work on the outer limits of the discipline to pay attention to the business of their departments or core research needs.

There's a corollary to that scenario: If the wandering researcher is a junior faculty member, all that work on the edges is unlikely to be rewarded at tenure time.

The Office of the Dean of Research is certainly aware of these doomsday visions and, while taking them seriously, insists the dangers are both exaggerated and manageable.

Vonder Linden is emphatic that "it's essential that departments and schools continue to exist. There's no desire or need to ever, ever do away with schools. They are literally the foundation of the university, and education within the school structure is vital."

Disciplines, according to Bienenstock, "are like the driver's license that allows graduate students and ideas to move from place to place. So we have to keep disciplines strong." But, he added, "there is interesting research at the borders."

As with any momentous change, if all the parts don't transform together and at the same speed, there are bound to be imbalances and inequities, at least for a while. Prime among them is the reality that multidisciplinary research is simultaneously rewarded and punished, or at least facilitated and impeded. One can't be at the periphery and at the core simultaneously, yet that's what appears to be needed.

"We're stuck at a funny time," said Anne Hannigan, associate vice president for research administration, speaking last summer. "We have parallel structures that aren't interfacing nicely."

One solution is to adjust the rules on hiring, promotion and tenure. Over the years, schools have occasionally shared posts (Bienenstock, in fact, was hired in 1967 by Engineering and Humanities and Sciences). Such uber-billets are definitely in Stanford's future, according to virtually all the center directors and researchers consulted for this article. The prospect is a truly exciting one for many of the leading players. One of the reasons the environmental and international initiatives have legs is precisely that they will include new billets not confined to any particular school.

"We'll work out a mechanism," Bienenstock said, with the wisdom acquired from years of administrative and policy work, both at Stanford and in Washington, D.C. "We'll face problems one at a time. You just watch out, proceed along and be careful."

Balsom, too, though concerned about the specter of the sorcerer's apprentice creating more and more autonomous centers, is confident Stanford can figure this out. "Every faculty member who comes from outside says we can do things better here than elsewhere. But it's not pretty. The delivery happens because we have good personal relationships and there's a lot of trust. You work with colleagues across the disciplines, and things happen."

Bienenstock, at the center of Stanford's bet that multidisciplinary work is a powerful way of both advancing scientific knowledge and solidifying Stanford's preeminence, is eager to move forward.

"Let me make something clear," he said. "Whenever you go down a new path, you're bound to encounter problems." The implication, of course, is that those who seek them will also encounter solutions.