hard times

Yesterday, winter arrived in London, as much as winter does around here. It only snows every half eternity, but it can get cold on occasion. This morning, freezing air sat mercilessly on the town like a bulky old fridge. I couldn't see anything better to do than stay inside where it's warm and read a newspaper, but for that, I had to go out first and buy one. I stepped out for just one second to head to WHSmith, a stationer, and grabbed a Guardian, three pounds of paper for half that in Sterling.

Cuing at the till, I started reading the front page. Apparently, Damien Hirst is in dire straights financially, so much that he feels compelled not to renew the contracts for his workers, otherwise known as those who create the pieces he later puts his name on and sells. That recourse might not be surprising and is certainly in line with what other commercial operations – builders, banks, brokers, retailers – are doing, but there was one surprising element in the story.

Damien Hirst earns millions. His latest auction netted more than a hundred of them. He is considered the richest British artist by quite a distance and one of the richest in the world. And yet his assistants make 19,000 pounds, according to the article. Isn't that just ridiculous? I'm not so much upset about the fact that the salary doesn't cover much than rent for an average one-bedroom apartment. That's somethings scientists in expensive cities are very familiar with. But being paid a pittance when your boss makes millions? This sounds like China to me.

In contrast to China, though, where penniless peasants are forced to toil in sweatshops because there's just nothing else do to, artists (scientists) in the west have options. They can go wherever they please. They're highly skilled (educated) and can change jobs easily. All the information is at your fingertips. Yet being a scientist, I also see another, less publicized side of this argument. When you're young and and at least somewhat promising, you have high hopes for your future, but you have to remain within the system to succeed. You become an assistant to glory (brilliance), work hard and learn, bargaining that with time some of that glory (brilliance) will rub off. You gamble that word of your talent will go out and your star will rise to shine brightly.

In a nutshell, these are the chips that I play with. I'm not sure what I'd do if I had been a slave in Damian Hirst's studio, but knowing that my boss doesn't exploit me for his personal gain, I'm happy to continue. On Monday, I'll be back in the lab, pushing hard for that elusive discovery that will finally get my name out and set me up for success.