I've been thinking lately about the language of biology. Not only is there a specialized vocabulary, as you would expect, but a specialized grammar. Today, for example, I'm going to:
prepare my samples, pour a gel, load the samples onto the gel and run it. Then I'll put part of the gel in transfer, then I'll block the membrane with a milk solution and incubate it in an antibody solution. I'll put the other part of the gel in something called Gel-Code Blue and then destain it.It's the prepositions that strike me as weirdest. For example, why do you load samples onto a gel, instead of into it? The transfer to a membrane doesn't transfer the gel itself onto a membrane, but the proteins which have been spread out along the gel. I never refer to Gel-Code Blue by name, but rather by the older technology it emulates: Coomassie. Also, people often will say "I'm in primary," when their membrane is incubating in the primary antibody solution. As with many forms of speech, you omit lots of words that can be inferred by people who know the language.
Being able to glibly speak the dialect is a marker of experience and competence. I see progress in my speech, but I would rate myself as having a sub-PhD fluency, appropriately enough.
The dialect changes over time; an older professor might have a slightly different turn of phrase than a younger one. There are also variations by subfield.
OK, must run. Sorry about the clunky flow.
1 comment:
I like delurking too. It sounds like it is the process of making yourself unsinister. Language as a marker of community and social hierarchy is really fascinating. My husband gets irritated when faced with a critical mass of musicians, for we tend to become incomprehensible to outsiders without even being aware of it. And for me, the toughest part of the Ph.D. has been the language and cultural acquisition. The language facilitates the move from outsider to insider status.
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