“You should definitely go, for sure.” We were standing in the forward hold – where the mops and buckets, toilet brushes, and endless cans of Lysol wipes were stored – organizing its contents. My shipmate and I were making small talk as we waited for discharge from the Navy. We were a couple of duds who got screened out during boot camp for medical reasons. Suddenly, the post-military-service time horizon had moved up drastically; we had to figure out where we were headed when we got processed out. In the meantime, he and I were on forward hold duty.

On this particular day, Seaman Recruit Remy and I ended up discussing whether or not he ought to attend a university once he got home. I gave him what was then my standard answer: no doubt! Of course a university education was the best way toward the American Dream. I had a BA, and I planned on continuing my formal education as soon as my discharge was fully processed. And so should everyone else. Baked into this response was the assumption there is an inherent good in increasing the number of people who attend university. This assumption seems more ubiquitous than ever, but I’d like to offer a viewpoint which challenges it.

The U.S. populace has been told for the last century or so that a university education is the ticket to the American Dream, and has pursued it as such. Since 1940, the percentage of the population that has completed a university education has climbed steadily [2, Figure 2]. As a culture we have indexed heavily toward encouraging as many to attend university as possible. I’d like to draw an analogy between this viewpoint and a concept that may not seem related at first: Braess’s Paradox.

Flow

A flow network is a collection of nodes and edges, where edges pass along some sort of substance or widgets between nodes. You might think of a watering hose as a network. The nodes in this case would be the spigot and your vegetable garden, and the edge would be the hose itself. The widget being passed between nodes here is water; it flows in one direction from spigot to garden. Here’s a boiled down image of your garden hose network:

Crucially, your hose has a limited capacity. The edge denoting the hose is labelled with a 5 to denote your hose has a capacity of, say, 5 gallons per minute. If your neighbor’s house were to catch fire, your garden hose wouldn’t be able to flow enough water to make much of a difference.

Now let’s consider a different sort of network: a road. The nodes are intersections or other important locations, and the edges are the roads themselves, passing cars between nodes. Consider the the road network denoted by this diagram:

The roads in this diagram have varying capacities, which means travel times vary. We say the roads (Start → S) and (N → End) have essentially infinite capacity; no matter how many travelers drive on these roads, there is always a travel time of 1500 sec. (25 min.). The roads (Start → N) and (S → End), however, have a limited capacity. These roads have a travel time that changes with the number (y) of travelers on them. That means if there is only one driver on the route (Start → N), their travel time would be 1 sec.1; however, if there are 1,000 drivers on the route (Start → N), their travel time would be 1000 sec. (about 16.6 min.). In other words, traffic becomes a major factor on roads with limited capacity.

In this road network, what is the best way for a collection of 1,000 drivers to travel from Start to End? The optimal solution is exactly what you might guess: 500 of the drivers take the “Northern” route (Start → N → End) and the other 500 take the “Southern” route (Start → S → End). Each route’s travel time is 500 + 1,500 = 2,000 sec. (about 33.3 min.).

Now imagine you’re a city planner tasked with decreasing travel times (Start → End). What if we now added a road, say (N → S), with a very short travel time of 250 sec.? That would give us this network:

It seems adding roads should always improve the situation. But what if one previously Northern traveller decides to take the route (Start → N → S → End)? Their travel time would be 500 + 250 + 501 = 1,251 sec. (about 21min.), a huge improvement! This single traveler has found a faster route and should be proud of this clever re-routing. Soon enough, more and more travelers will discover this time-saving route and choose to take it themselves. Eventually, traffic building up on (Start → N) and (S → End) will make it so the previously optimal Northern and Southern routes take more time than the new (Start to N to S to End) route, meaning everyone will choose this new middle route. But since every driver is now taking it, the travel time on this new route is now 1,000 + 250 + 1,000 = 2,250 sec. (about 37.5 min.) When we incorporate the incentives of the drivers, this new road has somehow increased the best case travel time!

This happens because there is no cooperation among drivers. If everyone got together and decided as a group to ignore the new road, they could all save on travel time. Individual pressures force collective suboptimality. This phenomenon is called Braess’s Paradox, and Steve Mould made a great video on the topic using springs to illustrate this mind bender.

College and Flow

I think we’re stuck in an instance of Braess’s Paradox when it comes to university education. We can roughly think of the end node as “attaining the American Dream,” the Northern and Southern routes as what may have been a typical life path until several decades ago, and the optimal route as a college education. College education was, for some time, a way to blast off into a middle-class wealth level. And we should expect most people seeing such an apparent optimum to take it, or encourage their kids to take it, or encourage their friends to take it, like I did with Remy and so many others.

But we need to face the reality that our current system is congested. Recent college graduates aged 22-27 have a higher unemployment rate than the national average [1]; the dollars-and-cents utility of higher education is evaporating. We’re slowing everyone down by encouraging people to take what used to be an optimal route.

The thing is, though, I don’t know what the answer is. I can’t offer a good heuristic for who should or shouldn’t pursue higher education. And I sure as hell don’t know how to convince a whole society looking for the optimum that we’d all be better off if fewer people tried it.

If we’re going to change, we have to start somewhere. Maybe we start by giving the young adults who hated school and are going to college to appease a parent permission to stop. Why don’t we stop viewing a “dropout” as someone who couldn’t hang? Let’s (and I mean us, college educated snobs!) check our own ego over completing a degree that, statistically, isn’t doing as much good as it should be.

Let’s start showing young adults the rest of the network.

References

[1] Federal Reserve Bank of New York. The Labor Market for Recent College Graduates. Electronic. 2026. url: https://www.newyorkfed.org/ research/college-labor-market#--:explore:unemployment.

[2] Camille L. Ryan and Kurt Bauman. Educational Attainment in the United States: 2015. Electronic. 2016.

It all started back in September 2015. Noah moved from the back of the Bio101 lecture hall to a seat nearer me (Becca). Later, he stated he had made the move because he wasn’t paying attention and “Becca looked like a nerd and had a GPS watch on.” To be fair, I am a nerd, and 2015 fitness watches were about the size of a satellite dish.

Push came to shove, and after 3 years and 10+ lab partnerships, we could no longer ignore our romantic chemistry and began dating. Over the past 11 years, we have never stopped being each other’s biggest supporters inside (and outside) the research labs. We both attended RPI for our doctoral studies, joking that I minored in biomedical engineering and Noah in chemical biology. Eventually, postdoctoral fellowships landed us in the same research group, working on adjacent projects, co-authoring publications, sharing resources, and navigating the worst job market since 2008.

In a typical job market, navigating the two-body problem is frustrating but doable: Universities and private companies can extend partner-placement options during the negotiation phase, big biotechnology hubs like Boston and San Francisco have deep networks for referrals nearby, and occasionally partner duos become co-PIs in large research facilities. Unfortunately, 2026 is providing us with anything but typical in terms of the job market.

Since Trump was re-elected in the fall of 2024, over 95k federal workers have left scientific agencies, including 10k doctoral level researchers¹. According to Science, federal agencies lost 11x more STEM PhDs compared to those gained in 2025². These losses have been even bigger in private industries, where Biospace tracked nearly 43k layoffs in the biopharma sector in 2025 – a nearly 50% increase compared to the prior year³. Things aren’t any better in the academic sector, where over 10k positions have been cut in the same period and upwards of 40% of private colleges are at risk of closing due to financial deficits⁴ – check out my previous JUNC article where I dig deeper into this statistic. These numbers total to a staggering 148k STEM-focused layoffs in the U.S. since fall 2024, albeit not all at the PhD level.

The Journal of Unsubmitted Content

An Ode to the Dying System of Schooling: The Liberal Arts College

An interviewer for a postdoc position recently told me aiming for professor positions at liberal arts schools was a waste of time and talent. They said a scientist employed by such a school could never produce meaningful research, and undergraduate students were not worth my time. I was… mildly horrified…

Read more

a month ago · 2 likes · Rebecca Miceli

What does this all look like for JUNC’s founders? To say the least, it’s frustrating. To say the most, combined, we have been denied from approximately 2,000 jobs.

Statistically, this doesn’t even make sense.

Stanford actually just proved that it doesn’t make sense.

Bommasani et al.⁵ released a staggering report on the use of AI tools in hiring. They found over 90% of U.S. employers are relying on hiring algorithms to screen or rank applicants, and many are using the same third-party vendors. The two main findings from the paper are (1) the algorithms are racist in their rankings and (2) individuals receive homogeneous outcomes. Specifically, they found 4% of all applicants who apply to 10 positions are rejected from all, which is a rate higher than chance. They state applicants impacted by homogenous rejections need to apply far and wide to escape the AI rankings keeping their applications from human eyes.

How many is enough? Of the 2,000 applications we’ve submitted, we have about a 1% success rate in securing interviews and a 0% success rate in receiving offers.

Bommasani et al.⁵ also reported some vendors may only allow one application ranking per year⁵. It is unclear whether these rankings exist within the AI tool (i.e., one ranking allowed per year regardless of company, job title, resume/cover letter changes, or referral statuses), or within each company, or if they exist at all. AI vendors are not releasing this information to the public, and companies utilizing vendors are not being transparent on which tools they are using.

What does this all mean for Noah and me? We’re not sure anymore. It’s clear the job market has been swayed by politics, finances, AI tools, and uncertainty for the past two years. We plan to continue to pursue employment opportunities that align with our values – jointly applying where we can within academia, industry, and federal. We are continuing to work together on our postdoctoral projects, co-applying to grants and submitting peer-reviewed manuscripts. Noah is leading JUNC, building a collective of creative intellects, and looking to expand into new mediums. (Should we start a podcast?)

Ultimately, we will push through this bubble as the team that we are. I hope our two-body problem ends similarly to the three-body physics equation: through the collision of two scientists and one convenient geographical workplace. In our case, the collision of these three bodies is ideal.

References

1. https://www.govexec.com/workforce/2026/03/report-nearly-95k-science-employees-left-government-trump-downsized-agency-workforces/411888/

2. https://www.science.org/content/article/u-s-government-has-lost-more-10-000-stem-ph-d-s-trump-took-office

3. https://www.biospace.com/job-trends/biopharmas-axed-47-more-employees-year-over-year

4. https://hechingerreport.org/more-than-a-quarter-of-private-colleges-are-at-risk-of-closing-new-projection-shows/

5. https://arxiv.org/pdf/2605.27371

We kicked off 2026 with a significant trademark infringement lawsuit between outdoor apparel brand Patagonia and environmental activist and drag queen Pattie Gonia (Wyn Wiley). While trademark attorneys have kept tabs on this lawsuit over the last six months, Gonia recently made the unilateral decision to thrust it into the mainstream via a tactful public relations maneuver posted just days before the start of Pride Month.

On Wednesday, May 27, Pattie posted the following statements to their Instagram: see here.

Pattie also published the following open letter on their website: see here.

I implore readers to examine Pattie’s statements in full before continuing to read this article. Bonus points for reading the complaint filed by Patagonia, too: see here.

With these statements, Pattie is attempting to use public pressure to get Patagonia to drop the lawsuit against them. Pattie’s accuses the company of using trademark law in a targeted attempt to silence their environmental activism and oppose the drag queen tradition and LGBTQIA+ community writ large.

Using my background as an IP lawyer, I will explain the relevant principles of U.S. trademark law and add necessary context so readers can best evaluate their positions on this ongoing dispute.

Background

In February 2022, Pattie Gonia and popular water bottle brand Hydroflask were exploring a potential collaboration. To cover its bases, Hydroflask alerted Patagonia to the collaboration, and Patagonia agreed not to dispute it subject to certain restrictions:

“The parties met and discussed restrictions on the use of “Pattie Gonia” to protect against confusion about the source of products or advocacy connected to Pattie Gonia. Pattie Gonia confirmed an understanding that she must refrain from selling PATTIE GONIA-branded products or using fonts or designs that copy, or are substantially similar to, Patagonia’s logos.”1

This agreement is featured in the complaint in the form of an email exchange between Patagonia, Hydroflask, and Pattie,2 but appears to only pertain to the brand collaboration between Pattie and Hydroflask. Because Patagonia isn’t bringing any claims about a breach of this agreement, it’s likely referenced to show Patagonia put Pattie Gonia on notice that they were paying attention to their use of the “Pattie Gonia” name, and where it was setting its boundaries. We will have to wait and see how significant this agreement is in the overall litigation.

Patagonia and Pattie Gonia coexisted until early 2025, when Pattie began selling PATTIE GONIA-branded apparel on their website. According to the complaint, Patagonia asked Pattie to cease the sale of the branded merchandise and resume their compliance with the 2022 agreement.3

Pattie refused, and ultimately expanded their PATTIE GONIA branded apparel line and filed a trademark application to register PATTIE GONIA (U.S. Ser. No. 99404728) with the USPTO for several classes of goods and services, including stickers, decals, clothing, and advertising and marketing services. Patagonia also owns several trademark registrations for PATAGONIA identifying identical or otherwise highly related goods and services.4

After nearly a year of failed attempts to come to an agreement with Pattie, Patagonia filed a federal civil complaint in the Central District of California against Pattie Gonia for several trademark-related claims, including trademark infringement, dilution of a famous trademark, and unfair competition.

It’s worth noting Patagonia is obligated to protect its exclusive trademark rights to prevent dilution, especially in the wake of Pattie’s application to register the PATTIE GONIA mark. If Patagonia fails to exercise some level of control over unaffiliated third-party use of its famous trademarks, it risks weakening its trademark rights. Patagonia’s attempts to reach an extrajudicial agreement were efforts to appropriately enforce its IP rights while allowing Pattie Gonia room to coexist with its brand.

I will use this ongoing case to illustrate three core trademark law concepts at play here: the distinctiveness of a trademark, the likelihood of confusion, and fair use and parody in trademark law.

The Validity of the PATAGONIA word trademark

In both their public statements and private email correspondence with Patagonia’s legal counsel,5 Pattie alleges the moniker Pattie Gonia was directly inspired by the famous South American mountain range rather than the apparel brand. Pattie also notes the mountain range predates both their and the apparel brand’s use of the trademark by over 500 years. As a result of these statements, I’ve seen many of Pattie’s supporters argue that, because Patagonia is a real-life mountain range, the apparel company has no right to claim it as a trademark. Pattie appears to take this argument a step further in their filed answer to Patagonia’s complaint, where Pattie’s second and third affirmative defenses are that Patagonia lacks a valid, distinctive, and enforceable trademark.6

So, is Patagonia’s use of PATAGONIA as a trademark in connection with outdoor accessories and apparel valid and enforceable? Let’s evaluate.

Trademarks, or “marks” for short, exist as a form of consumer protection to assist consumers in identifying specific products or services sold in commerce. Imagine allowing dozens of different companies to use the trademark “PEPSI” for their respective sodas of various qualities. Good luck finding the “correct” brand of PEPSI soda in a sea of imposters and knockoffs. As such, a trademark must be unique, or distinctive, to be valid and enforceable.

Under U.S. trademark law, we evaluate the distinctiveness of a trademark based on a “Spectrum of Distinctiveness.”7 This spectrum ranges from “fanciful,” or “completely made-up,” to “generic,” or “commonly used.” Fanciful trademarks are inherently distinctive and are afforded the strongest protection. They are often meaningless, gibberish terms before they become associated with a product or service, such as “PEPSI” for a brand of soda. Generic terms are never distinctive and are not granted any legal protection as trademarks because they are the common terms used by consumers to describe a product or service, such as “CHAIR” in reference to a chair.

The spectrum also includes a middle ground in the form of three additional distinctions. These distinctions, in order from strongest to weakest protection, are called “arbitrary,” “suggestive,” and “descriptive” marks. Arbitrary marks are existing words used as trademarks in connection with completely unrelated products and services, such as “MACINTOSH” or “YOGA” for brands of computers. Suggestive marks merely suggest a quality or characteristic of a product or service but require some sort of imaginative leap to make the connection, such as “NETFLIX” for online movie streaming services (combining “interNET” and “FLIX”/“Flicks”). Both are considered inherently distinctive and are afforded strong protection.

A “descriptive” mark is not quite generic, but it still describes a fundamental quality, ingredient, function, or characteristic of the product/service, such as the slogan “FROZEN AND CREAMY” used in connection with ice cream. Descriptive terms are not inherently distinctive, but they can acquire distinctiveness, or “secondary meaning,” and become valid, enforceable trademarks through consistent, long-term use and consumer recognition, most often evaluated after a minimum of five years of continuous use in connection with a product or service.

So, where does the PATAGONIA mark fall on the spectrum? “PATAGONIA” is not a made-up term, so it’s not fanciful. On the other hand, “PATAGONIA” is not a common term for outdoor apparel or accessories, so it’s not generic. That leaves us in the potential gray area of arbitrary, suggestive, and descriptive marks.

An important thing to note before we proceed: geographical designations are considered descriptive and therefore are not afforded trademark protection without acquiring secondary meaning. So, as Pattie might argue, because Patagonia is a real mountain range, the PATAGONIA trademark is descriptive and invalid, right? Not quite.

Geographical designations identify the geographic origin of a product/service, but the Patagonia apparel company has never alleged that its clothing comes from the Patagonia region, nor is it directly related to the mountain range in any material way. Because there is no direct link, the PATAGONIA trademark is most likely arbitrary, and at worst, suggestive. In either case, it’s a completely valid, enforceable, and strongly protected trademark, especially because it’s been used in connection with outdoor apparel and accessories for over fifty years.

But the protection doesn’t stop there.

In their sixth affirmative defense, Pattie claims Patagonia’s trademarks are not “famous.”8

In a 2019 federal trademark infringement case against Anheuser-Busch, LLC, Patagonia successfully argued that its PATAGONIA trademark is indeed legally famous.9 Under the Trademark Dilution Revision Act, highly distinctive registered trademarks can become “famous” if the owner is able to demonstrate widespread consumer recognition of their trademark through excessive sales and excessive duration, extent, and geographic reach of advertising and publicity.10 Having a famous trademark greatly assists Patagonia in its infringement arguments and allows it to sue for a special type of trademark infringement: dilution of a famous mark. Having a famous mark also gives Patagonia additional responsibilities and obligations to enforce and protect its trademarks, otherwise it risks losing this valuable status.

Patagonia owns among the strongest, most heavily protected trademarks out there, and Pattie Gonia will have a difficult time trying to invalidate Patagonia’s trademark rights if that’s an argument they ultimately make.

The “P-6” logo and the Likelihood of Confusion

The PATAGONIA word mark is not the only trademark in dispute here. Perhaps the biggest controversy lies in Pattie’s alleged misuse of Patagonia’s famous “P-6” logo:

Before we understand the importance of the P-6 logo, we need to understand the fundamentals of trademark infringement analysis.

The key determination for most trademark infringement claims is the “likelihood of confusion,” whether the trademarks are similar enough to cause confusion among consumers. In California, courts use a multi-factor balancing test called the Sleekcraft test to determine whether the similarities between the disputing trademarks rise to the level of actual trademark infringement.11

The factors for this test generally include: (1) degree of similarity between the trademarks; (2) strength of the Plaintiff’s trademark; (3) relatedness of the goods or services; (4) Defendant’s intent in selecting the mark; (5) evidence of actual consumer confusion; (6) whether the goods/services are sold and/or advertised in the same channels of trade; (7) sophistication of the expected consumers; and (8) likelihood of expansion of the product lines or services.12

These factors are evaluated individually, and while each factor is important, certain factors can hold more weight than others. The two most crucial factors are almost always the similarity of the marks and the relatedness of the goods/services. As a result, not all – or even most – of the factors need to be met to support the finding of a high likelihood of confusion. On the other hand, if the two most crucial factors are neutral or weigh in favor of the other party, then it’s just as likely the court may find no likelihood of confusion.

We can use this test to speculate whether the word marks PATAGONIA and PATTIE GONIA may be found similar enough to cause confusion in the current dispute.

Starting with the first and often most important factor, visually, the marks are a bit different. PATAGONIA is one word, while PATTIE GONIA is two. In terms of meaning, one is spelled identically to the mountain range, while the other appears as a full name. However, appearance and meaning are only two factors used to evaluate the overall consumer impression. Sound is just as important. Word marks are spoken just as often as they are displayed, and when you’re in the middle of verbalizing a trademark, others do not have the courtesy of seeing how the trademark is displayed. Try saying “PATAGONIA” and “PATTIE GONIA” out loud. Would it be easy for someone to tell the difference between the marks in conversation? The court may find this factor weighs in Patagonia’s favor, but it’s a pretty close call and could go either way.

We’ve already established Patagonia has a strong, famous trademark in the previous section, so it’s very likely the court will find the second factor weighs heavily in Patagonia’s favor. Additionally, the trademarks are both used in connection with apparel, stickers, outdoor accessories, marketing and advertising services, etc., and because Patagonia was first, the court may also find this factor weighs heavily in its favor.

Turning to the fourth factor, based on publicly available information, Pattie’s intent is not too clear. Pattie alleges the name was selected purely based upon the Patagonia mountain range, and I have not seen any direct evidence that they intended to copy the PATAGONIA trademark, so the court may weigh this factor in Pattie’s favor.

Regarding actual confusion, Patagonia features some screenshots in its complaint of what seems to be genuine consumer confusion, where consumers commenting on product listings appear to believe Pattie’s merchandise is being sold, licensed, or otherwise endorsed by Patagonia:13

Actual consumer confusion is the gold standard of evidence in a trademark infringement case. However, the rules of evidence may prohibit the admission of these screenshots subject to proper authentication among other potential hearsay issues. If this evidence is ultimately admissible, the court may weigh this factor in favor of Patagonia.

I speculate the court may find the remaining factors – channels of trade, consumer sophistication, and likelihood of expansion – weigh at least slightly in favor of Patagonia. Regarding consumer sophistication, I’ve stumbled across several online comments that point out Pattie’s community clearly knows the difference between PATTIE GONIA and PATAGONIA. However, that’s not the standard the court will use. The standard is going to be the average outdoor apparel consumer. This includes consumers such as your retired uncle who likes to hike but doesn’t know the first thing about drag culture. Is he likely to be confused or believe there’s some sort of affiliation between these brands? That’s the type of consumer the court is going to consider when evaluating this factor.

Despite most of the factors likely landing on Patagonia’s side, the most important factor in the analysis, the similarity of the marks, could go either way. For this reason, I’m not convinced Patagonia would’ve risked the lawsuit had Pattie stuck to their core lineup of PATTIE GONIA products:14

Although Patagonia still had a valid case, it would’ve been more difficult for the apparel company to argue a substantial likelihood of confusion. Despite the similarities, it’s unclear whether actual use of the PATAGONIA and PATTIE GONIA trademarks are obviously similar enough to warrant a high likelihood of confusion. Pattie uses different fonts and spellings of the trademark on almost all their merch, along with catch phrases and images aligned with their specific drag-themed branding, arguably disparate from Patagonia’s common marketing motifs.

But then, Pattie decided to fly a little too close to the sun by incorporating the P-6 logo.

In its complaint, Patagonia included several screenshots of Pattie displaying products and images featuring knockoffs of Patagonia’s famous P-6 logo with Pattie’s branding:15

These images present a pretty significant hurdle for Pattie to overcome in their defense. In their answer and public Instagram post, Pattie claims these images are cherry-picked fan art that she did not sell directly to consumers but merely featured in PR material.

Featuring trademarks you don’t own in marketing material and advertisements is not automatically trademark infringement if it falls under nominative fair use or comparative advertising. Nominative fair use allows unaffiliated brands to feature an unowned trademark in marketing materials to identify the actual product or service being referenced. Comparative advertising allows a competitor to feature another trademark to objectively and truthfully compare their product to a competitor’s product.

Pattie’s P-6 logo spoofs probably do not fall under either of these fair use exceptions, because they aren’t real Patagonia logos. They feature the same Belwe Bold font and iconic mountain range silhouette featured in Patagonia’s famous logo, and even use a very similar color layout for the skyline, but replace the purple, blue, and red colors with the colors of the pride flag and add elements of Pattie’s branding. All in all, these aren’t real Patagonia logos, but they are near-identical versions of the company’s famous P-6 logo.

Pattie is giving away stickers featuring the spoofed P-6 logo to people who contributed to her “The $1M Dollar Backpacking Trip” Gofundme, which could be construed as promotional material associating these knockoff P-6 logos with their overall branding. Even if they are not actively selling products with this spoofed version of Patagonia’s P-6 logo, this is still very risky because it could suggest an official partnership, endorsement, or approval when one does not exist, which is exactly what Pata16gonia is alleging in its complaint. And regarding their “cherry-picking” defense, it doesn’t matter if it was one time or a hundred times; if it amounts to trademark infringement, it’s still actionable.

So how exactly does Pattie defend this as fair use? The parody defense, of course. But in the world of IP law, “parody” is not the automatic defense many people think it is.

Trademark Parody

In both their filed answer and public statements, Pattie argues their use of PATTIE GONIA and the P-6 logo is fair use as parody pursuant to Rogers v. Grimaldi, 875 F.2d 994 (2d Cir. 1989).17 The First Amendment allows for freedom of expression, which is why we have carve-outs for parody in IP law. Often in parody, it’s crucial to directly reference the source material to provide effective commentary on it. As Pattie correctly notes in their public posts, parody and satire indeed have a long history in drag culture. From name choices to costumes and song covers, drag culture and lampooning the status quo go hand in hand, and are often fully protected forms of expression under the purview of copyright law.

Most people are more familiar with the concept of parody as applied to copyright law and assume the same parameters exist in trademark law. This is not the case.

The Rogers test provides specific guidelines for allowing trademark parody. To pass the Rogers test, the mark must have some sort of artistic relevance to the underlying expressive work, and the work must not explicitly mislead consumers about its source.18 However, the Rogers test has been dramatically restricted in recent years.19 The test no longer applies if the defendant uses the trademark as a source identifier, i.e., uses the trademark as a trademark, and instead, the usual likelihood of confusion test is applied and the marks will be evaluated in the same manner as any other allegation of trademark infringement.

Regarding the PATTIE GONIA word mark, if Pattie was solely using the name “Pattie Gonia” as their stage name during live performances or as part of their social media skits, courts would likely apply the Rogers test and find that use permissible as expressive parody. However, because Pattie has filed a trademark application and is actively using the name to sell apparel and accessories, Pattie has moved beyond parody and is attempting to build a legitimate, competing brand, and it’s unlikely the courts will apply the Rogers test in this instance.

However, Pattie’s use of the P-6 logo as parody is a bit more complicated. In the images featured in Patagonia’s complaint, Pattie’s version of the P-6 logo is displayed on a pair of gloves, a handbag, a jacket, and a sticker similar to how a typical brand logo would be displayed. But because Pattie does not actively sell those items, nor have they applied for a trademark application to register their spoofed P-6 design, there is some wiggle room to claim it’s being used purely as artistic expression rather than as a trademark. However, as mentioned in the previous section, the stickers featuring the knockoff P-6 logo that they sent to fans in exchange for Gofundme contributions could be construed as promotional materials intended to establish their brand, which is generally considered legitimate use in commerce in U.S. trademark law. This may result in the court not applying the Rogers test and could further support Patagonia’s argument that Pattie’s use of the knockoff logo creates substantial risk of false association in the eyes of consumers.

It’s also worth noting that featuring the P-6 logo could serve to weaken their argument that their chosen name and branding have nothing to do with the Patagonia apparel company, as doing this creates a direct association between them.

If this litigation continues, I am interested to see how the court analyzes and decides upon Pattie’s use of the P-6 logo, as it will likely have a significant impact on when courts will apply the Rogers test in the wake of the Supreme Court’s recent VIP Prods. LLC v. Jack Daniel’s Props., Inc. decision.

Conclusion and Parting Opinions

Let’s get one thing straight: The backlash Patagonia has received because of Pattie’s recent public posts is generally unwarranted.

Back in 2022, rather than immediately taking action against Pattie, Patagonia opted to carve out an agreement with Hydroflask and Pattie Gonia, which did the bare minimum necessary to protect Patagonia’s IP while allowing Pattie to continue using the “Pattie Gonia” name and branding in connection with their environmental advocacy, LGBTQIA+ advocacy, and entertainment services. I applaud Patagonia’s initial efforts to avoid being adversarial and believe we should encourage parties to resolve potential trademark conflicts without immediately resorting to litigation.

In the apparel company’s own words featured in the complaint, “Patagonia supports advocacy and activism that promote the environment and inclusion in the outdoors, central to Pattie Gonia’s ostensible mission. For that reason, before Pattie Gonia’s activities and identity transformed into a commercial enterprise, Patagonia repeatedly communicated with Pattie Gonia and understood that the parties had reached agreement about how that advocacy work might continue in a way that would not interfere with Patagonia’s brand.”20

As evidenced by their clothing line and trademark application, Pattie is currently attempting to develop a commercial enterprise under the PATTIE GONIA word mark selling identical goods and services in direct competition with Patagonia while simultaneously featuring a strikingly similar, unauthorized version of the P-6 logo alongside their branding. While they have raised an astonishing amount of money for various civil rights and environmental protection charities, it would not excuse them of commandeering Patagonia’s trademarks and trading on the goodwill the company has taken decades upon decades to develop, if that’s what the court ultimately determines.21

Despite all this, Patagonia continues to be very gentle, even in this lawsuit. Patagonia is merely asking for Pattie to stop using confusingly similar versions of its registered trademarks in connection with her brand, stop selling infringing merchandise, and to give them $1 in damages.

One. Dollar.

And while Patagonia is also requesting legal fees, it’s not a given it will receive them, even if it wins the lawsuit in a landslide. Contrary to popular belief, it is quite unusual for courts to award legal fees to the opposing party. It’s often reserved for lopsided and frivolous claims. So, any legal expenses Pattie pays will likely be their own, and the longer they drag this out, the more expensive it will get for them.

Patagonia is not trying to “erase an activist.”

Patagonia is not launching an offensive effort against the broader drag and LGBTQIA+ communities.

Patagonia is not even asking Pattie to change their drag name.

Patagonia is simply asking Pattie to stop infringing on its trademarks. That’s it.

Wyn Wiley, the man behind the Pattie Gonia persona, could opt to continue using the “Pattie Gonia” drag name as long as the use remains an artistic expression and not a trademark. At the outset of adopting his Pattie Gonia persona, several articles were written about how the name was derived from backpacking trips to the Continental Divide Trail, a 3,100-mile trail primarily located in the western continental U.S. spanning from Southern Canada to the Mexican border, thousands of miles away from the Patagonia mountain range (and much to his chagrin, a particular uncorrected Guardian article which alleges the name was intended as a pun of the Patagonia apparel company22).23

Wiley chose not to reference the Continental Divide Trail itself when selecting the name for his alter ego. He could have used any famous mountain range from around the world, and if he wants to have more freedom to utilize his drag persona as a trademark, there are plenty of alternative options which aren’t potentially confusingly similar to a preexisting famous outdoor apparel brand. Even while writing this article, I thought of a few good ones off the top of my head: Kara Koram, after the famous Karakoram Range in Central Asia, or Sierra Nevada, after the famous Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta range in Colombia. Even Rowyn Zori, after the famous Rwenzori Mountains in Africa, would have been a fun play on Wiley’s government name.

As a practicing attorney, I don’t speak in absolutes. Anything can happen in a courtroom, and no lawsuit is a surefire win or loss. That being said, as things currently stand, I think Pattie will have a difficult time winning this case, and the recent social media posts function as a marketing opportunity and somewhat of a last-ditch extrajudicial attempt to apply social pressure on Patagonia to get them to drop the lawsuit.

Separate from my legal analysis of this ongoing trademark dispute, I take umbrage with Pattie trying to garner public sympathy by alleging the purpose of a valid trademark infringement action is meant to silence the voices of environmental activists and the LGBTQIA+ community from a company that has, based on publicly available information, remained reasonably respectful, if not outright supportive, of Pattie and their community’s activism. In my opinion, it’s misleading to accuse Patagonia of having homophobic, ulterior motives based on nothing more than remote circumstantial evidence.

The greater LGBTQIA+ community is indeed being persecuted now more than it has in recent years, and coloring this trademark infringement lawsuit as an attack on the LGBTQIA+ community is, in my opinion, self-serving behavior that takes advantage of public ignorance of IP laws and undermines the causes Pattie claims to support. My hope is this article at least helps remedy the former issue.

Pattie Gonia is right about one thing, though: The environment suffers when two major activists waste time, resources, and energy beefing in court. I sincerely hope this dispute is resolved soon so both parties can get back to focusing on what they do best without stepping on each other’s toes and, in Pattie’s case, polluting the public discourse.

Disclaimer: This article provides general educational information about trademark law and should not be construed as legal advice.

Trademark law is highly fact-specific, and outcomes depend on detailed circumstances of particular cases. This article does not create an attorney-client relationship. Anyone facing trademark issues or considering uses that may implicate trademark rights should consult with a qualified intellectual property attorney licensed in their jurisdiction.

The Patagonia v. Pattie Gonia case is ongoing litigation, and specific details about pleadings, evidence, and arguments may not be publicly available. This article discusses general trademark principles that would typically apply to such cases. The speculations, predictions, and forward-looking statements made in this article regarding the outcome of the Patagonia v. Pattie Gonia case are expressions of professional opinion only. Litigation outcomes are inherently unpredictable, and judicial decisions or jury verdicts may differ materially from this analysis. Past performance in similar cases does not guarantee future results.

The case citations and legal principles discussed are accurate as of the date of publication but may be subject to subsequent legal developments. Readers should verify current law and consult legal counsel for advice on specific situations.

I love a good podcast. But my taste depends on what I’m doing. While on a long run, for example, I’ll listen to a 2+ hour commentary and recap of a movie I’ve never seen. When processing samples or labeling tubes in the lab, I want improv comedy. But most of the time, I really enjoy digging into science podcasts. Listening to critical, insightful commentary stimulates the core scientist in me. Throw in some production design along with a story and I’m hooked. In the arena of science communication, podcasts must be doing the most right now. I mean famous Boeing engineer turned science educator Bill Nye did 151 episodes of his podcast Science Rules! By comparison, his TV show only ran 100 episodes.

So today I’m covering the spectrum of science education podcasts, recapping the best shows that have changed my life, health, and scientific career. I’ll talk about what makes each one special and include example episodes that make good entry points into each show.

StarTalk Radio

A crucial podcast in learning to think like a scientist is StarTalk Radio with Neil deGrasse Tyson. By taking questions from listeners and interviewing expert guests, Tyson grounds each conversation in basic physics with expert analogy. His approach makes even the most extreme cosmic theories understandable and relatable. StarTalk builds the scientific identity of their listeners by engaging and giving direct explanations. This is on display when Tyson and his co-host take listener questions. Tyson considers every question as if you were a student in the front row of a graduate-level astrophysics course. He is exacting, to the point, but expansive at the same time, as if your question was only the jumping-off point. Questions based on incorrect assumptions are dealt with first by correcting the assumption, rebuilding a better question, and addressing the core curiosity.

We can’t leave out the show’s co-host, full-time comedian Chuck Nice. Over several years of listening to Nice, I’ve heard his shift from comedic relief to a trained scientific mind. From time to time, he will confidently take over to explain concepts on behalf of Tyson. But Nice still slides in his jokes, with timing and content that causes Tyson to break up laughing nearly every episode. StarTalk Radio has over 1,100 episodes and is still released weekly. Following the Sirius XM takeover of several podcast studios, you can now hear the show first over satellite radio. Fitting for a show with a cosmic perspective.

Planet Money

Next, NPR’s weekly economics show, Planet Money, with in-depth reporting on economic factors shaping the U.S. and world economies. Somehow the show feels like the production of a small, tight-knit team, but at the same time manages on-the-ground reporters all over the world. Planet Money is so current it feels like you can go right from reading the headline news to listening to an economic analysis from your favorite host. The ubiquity of Planet Money comes from the spinoff show The Indicator, which is released daily. The production value and scale of stories leave you wondering how they pull it off each week. My best theory: economists are desperately waiting by the phone, and Planet Money is the only one who ever calls.

Best of all, the hosts put in the time conducting experiments to illustrate economic principles firsthand. Titles like “We Bought a Toxic Asset,” “We Invested in Gold,” or “We Set Up a Shell Company” take you through the realities of each respective headline. Altogether, Planet Money’s narrative approach to economics weaves a fun and informative story, leaving you feeling smarter. NPR’s commitment to journalism gives shows like this the infrastructure to thrive, and Planet Money never alienates listeners by hawking ads, pushing investments, or shilling crypto coins.

Huberman Lab

An essential in the science podcast starter kit is the Huberman Lab podcast. Once you get past the corporate advertising pre-roll of paid endorsements, Huberman takes you through college-level textbook explorations of biological principles, punctuated with high-impact guests to reinforce key points with a research perspective. Huberman is a Stanford research professor, though he admits his research now takes a back seat to his science communication and advocacy. Regardless of how active his own lab is, he knows the language and lifestyle of research, making him an excellent host of fellow scientists. I appreciate his ability to ask clarifying questions without concern for being the smartest person in the room. He doesn’t care if he sounds dumb; he wants to learn more, to understand why a mechanism exists in biology. These discussions typically take a translational approach, converting basic research into actions you can take to improve your health. Huberman takes care to recommend low/no-cost examples of lifestyle changes and habits to remove barriers in practicing these science-based health tips. Therefore, I’m obligated to pass on his number one tip: get 10-15 minutes of sunlight in your eyes within an hour of waking!

Hidden Brain

Hidden Brain, hosted by former NPR science correspondent Shankar Vedantam, focuses on the unconscious outputs from our brains that shape behavior and relationships. Again, storytelling combined with expert guests in neurobiology, philosophy, sociology form a perspective I would otherwise have no chance to engage with. Specifically, the “You 2.0” series focuses on relevant science and insights that are directly applicable to your life. For example, the year I graduated college, the episode You 2.0: Decide Already dropped some wisdom on my developing brain. In this episode, Daniel Gilbert promotes the power of commitment to a choice: by restricting options and committing to a plan, one reduces the mental fatigue of second-guessing. By making an irrevocable decision, you are released from the anguish of trying to predict the future. Revisiting this advice is something I find myself doing often, particularly now at another junction in my career. To hear more about that story, I encourage you to read the next JUNC article from Founding Writer Rebecca Miceli.

Radiolab

Finally, where would we be without Radiolab, a massively successful science radio show produced by WNYC. A show with such a powerful hold on me, I can look at titles released in 2015 and remember exactly where I was when I first heard it. This show is how I passed HOURS getting sunburnt while riding a John Deere 1420 mower. I learned about CRISPR from Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich before I ever set foot on a college campus, let alone learned cell biology.

The storytelling and scientific rigor should still be held up as an example for science reporting and education. This show is well known for its ability to communicate complex science and ethical dilemmas in a way that brings the listener into the story. Agreed upon by many as the all-time greatest episode, “Colors” explores how we perceive the world around us through an analysis of the physics involved in light. This is a conventionally difficult topic to convey through an audio-only medium, but Radiolab worked with a 150-person choir to turn concepts of light into sound, resulting in an unforgettable experiment in both podcasting and science education. While not every episode involves that many contributors, the high level of production makes every point just as impactful.

So yes, I really do love a good podcast. Whether I’m tuned in or tuned out, I rely on listening to a show while running, working, or cooking. I’ve only covered a fraction of the shows I enjoy, highlighting the most impactful science podcasts spanning the last 12 years. The real power comes in the accessibility to knowledge across many domains. Experts in everything from biology to investment banking are sharing the most valuable insights on podcasts daily, for free. As a lifelong learner, this access introduces and refreshes topics for me on a regular basis. In another life, I probably would have studied economics over biochemistry, but that’s one irrevocable choice I’ll have to live with.

Honorable mentions:

My liberal arts degree made me the scientist I am today.

I am a proud graduate of Wheaton College in Massachusetts. Smackdab in the middle of the Providence-to-Boston commuter line, Wheaton is home to ~1,700 undergraduate students who have walking access to four facilities: Walgreens, CVS, a bagel shop, and a micro-brewery.

For what it lacked in its physical location, it made up for in its superior education system. The value of a liberal arts education typically comes from its broad-based teaching style that pushes students to take classes in science, mathematics, language, and humanities, regardless of their major.

The liberal arts education system prepares students for life in the ‘real-world’ — or simply acknowledges the world rarely operates by textbook definitions. Professors push students to be adaptable, curious, diverse, and challenged. I was required to take 16 courses outside of my major, but within these courses I was encouraged to tailor essays, debates, and discussions on my personal interests: biochemistry and human health.

For example, in Cultural Anthropology and Sociology, I learned how societies existed before and after the introduction of modern medicine. I explored why some cultures may reject modern medicine, and how medical anthropologists can bridge gaps between clinicians and community leaders. In Engaged Buddhism and World Music: Eurasia, I explored how religion and arts can shape someone’s medical treatment journey. In Drugs & Behavior, a psychology course, I discovered health disparities exist in groups impacted by gun violence, low socioeconomic status, and in areas classified as food deserts. All of these experiences led to my doctoral degree in medicinal chemistry, where I focused on producing low-cost chemotherapeutics that could be deployed in developing areas where patients may not have access to, or trust, modern IV-based therapeutics.

There are over 1,500 colleges and universities in the U.S. However, less than 200 of these are private liberal arts colleges¹. Mainly located in the Mid-Atlantic and New England regions, the top liberal art colleges in 2025 were Williams College (MA), Pomona College (CA), Bowdoin College (ME), Amherst College (MA), and Wellesley College (MA). These colleges have acceptance rates less than 10% and host ~500 undergraduate students on campus per class year. While these colleges provide incredible education and opportunities, they come at a cost, literally: Private liberal arts education costs people $10,000 more per year compared to public colleges, on average¹.

In a booming economy, this model works. In 2026, it does not.

Since 2024, over 20 private colleges have closed due to high prices, shrinking college-age cohorts, and higher interest in “AI-proof” trade professions, such as electrical, plumbing, and cosmetology². I don’t blame them either; the current unemployment rate among recent college graduates sits at 5.6%, considerably higher than the national average of 4.2%³. Worse, nearly 50% of recent grads claim to be underemployed³, meaning they are not working jobs that require their new, sparkly college degree. Ultimately, this spells lower income and higher debt for college graduates as they enter a society in which cost of living remains at an all-time high.

As a liberal arts graduate, these stats make me nervous. In a world where AI is ever-present, we need our students to be exposed to the liberal arts curriculum more than ever. We need students with emotional intelligence and a worldly understanding, who can critically think at a level above ChatGPT, and who are confident in communicating their opinions without asking Claude to weigh in.

We need professors who are passionate about training young minds to infuse their interests into all areas of society. We need small class sizes, adaptable courseloads, enforced attendance, and research professors willing to train the next generation of doctoral scientists for success.

We need the liberal arts colleges to survive current economic and political challenges, because the liberal arts curriculum will produce the minds capable of deciding our future.

And selfishly, I need liberal arts colleges to survive so I can reach my final form: quirky liberal arts professor.

More by this author

References:

1. https://www.liberalartscolleges.com/exactly-where-are-the-liberal-arts-schools/

2. https://www.cnbc.com/2024/10/15/more-colleges-set-to-close-in-2025-while-ivy-plus-schools-thrive.html

3. newyorkfed.org/research/college-labor-market

Do I really have control over the things I do? This is a question I often ask myself as I procrastinate yet another important task. There are many things I enjoy doing, yet I often find myself spending time doing things I don’t want to. Is this the consequence of my own actions? Or can I blame this on fate, a creator, or a series of domino effects—something over which I have no control?

Free will is a concept that has caused much debate. Are our existences simply a collection of inevitable events? Or do we truly have the ability to make choices that impact the course of our lives?

I argue there is room for free will, and this knowledge can be used responsibly to live with purpose. I would like to share how I came to this belief through a conversation about quantum computing.

The arguments against free will

Years ago, I was taking a bioethics class when the topic of bodily autonomy came up. We were discussing the topic of medical decisions and when the patient can no longer decide for themselves. One student argued the patient has free will and should be able to decide whatever they want. The professor then led a discussion on how this fits into the different ethical frameworks we had discussed throughout the class. Before moving on to the next topic, they quipped , “By the way, I don’t necessarily believe in free will.”

This stopped me, and I missed when they mentioned the content of the next test. What did they mean “free will” doesn’t exist? Am I not the master of my own choices? I wanted to look more into the arguments against this.

I came across the work of Dr. Robert Saplosky, a neuroscientist at Stanford. He generally argues biology and determinism do not leave room for our neurons to act independently. Broadly, determinism is the philosophical framework that all happenings are caused by the many happenings that came before it, and they cannot be separated from each other. Everything in life is a domino affected by the series of dominoes that fell before it. Saplosky argues this also applies to the biological processes which govern our actions. Since biology is a combination of determined actions, Saplosky believes there is no room for free will.

This began to make sense to me. I am an engineer after all. By practice, I try to understand all the components of a system so I can control them myself. My actions may similarly be part of a larger system. As a tissue engineer, I often experience results in my research that just don’t make sense to me. I know this usually means there is some other phenomenon that has not been accounted for before. However, my first thought is these results must be random.

Does randomness exist?

If randomness exists, would this mean the determinist framework against free will falls apart? Can the domino fall by itself? I set out to find examples of true randomness to support the possibility of free will.

Recently, I was discussing some of the advances in quantum computing. Classical computers utilize traditional “bits” that represent a value of 0 or 1. The functional unit of a quantum computer is called a qubit. These qubits indicate the spin states of electrons which can be up or down, effectively encompassing the same 0 or 1 as classical bits. Electrons, however, can behave in a superimposed manner between these two spin states, meaning a qubit may effectively display a value of 0, 1, somewhere in between, or both.

A researcher in quantum computing at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute mentioned the headaches this behavior causes. They conveyed these qubits are difficult to work with since the behavior is fundamentally random. You can run an experiment several times, and the best you can do is model the probability in which the electron may behave.

Are electrons random enough?

Is this the example I’ve been looking for? The difficult-to-predict nature of electrons has been at the center of theoretical physics for the past century. The works of Heisenberg and Schrodinger indicate, at best, we can only predict the nature of electrons. Once we try to directly measure their behavior, the probabilities we generate begin to fall apart. These theories indicate the nature of electrons is effectively random.

The field of physics does not directly agree with this interpretation. Most quantum physicists would argue the behavior of electrons is still governed by physical laws. We either do not understand all the physics yet, or we are dealing with a system with so many variables that trying to model probability is more pragmatic. There even exists a theory referred to as “super determinism,” which encompasses the probabilistic nature of quantum mechanics to support a determinist framework.

Regardless, electrons effectively appear to act in a random nature. Trying to rationalize the behavior of electrons, random or not, still requires one thing: a sort of faith. We fundamentally do not yet understand exactly how electrons behave, so experts in the field seemingly choose to believe whether or not this behavior is truly random.

What do I even do with this information?

With all this information on the philosophy of free will, quantum computing, and electron behavior, I find myself at the same place I started: confused. I’m still not sure if randomness or free will exist. Are the fundamental forces of nature random, and how does that influence my “choice” to eat 15 hot dogs whenever I please?

Despite the argument that randomness supports the existence of free will, the idea of living in a random world didn’t bring me comfort. I do believe my actions have meaning and influence the people around me. However, I do not believe I can enact change in my surroundings without a decided effort to do so.

For the time being, I’m trying to adopt a style of life somewhere in between. I want to live with purpose, not randomly. I will not just make random decisions to prove I have free will, and I will avoid letting the influences necessitate the way I respond. In the past year, I have made a few positive changes to my lifestyle because of this. It required discipline and re-shaping of my mindset several times over, but it proved to me I have the power to choose the way I want to live.

More by this author

CS majors might be cooked.

How did I come to this conclusion? Well, I recently participated in a hackathon/pitch competition with zero backend, frontend, react, java, or flutter experience. I went because the event advertised how to use AI tools and develop projects from scratch. It was important to me to find out exactly what these tools might be capable of and how they could be used. We were encouraged to use an integrated development environment with an agentic AI attached, known as Google AI Studio. Together, this platform enables users to launch demos in under ten minutes. I learned a lot of technical terms and tools (react, java, etc.), but what happened next convinced me I won’t ever need to learn them deeply.

Our task was to utilize open data, preferably from the state of New York, to solve civic problems involving public transportation and childcare. We were given pizza, soda, and five hours to work on our problem. By the end of the day, we needed a working demo and a five-minute pitch deck to compete for cash prizes. This wasn’t my first time pitching, and definitely not my first time pulling a presentation together the same day, but it was the first time I’ve ever coded an entire application.

By 30 minutes in, I was seriously blown away. The Google AI studio allowed for rapid prototyping of a tech stack capable of scraping website data, storing it in a database, and building a live dashboard in about 10 minutes. The real advantage was in the simplicity and speed of the workflow. I could go straight from a research question to visualizing an answer, bypassing the potential struggles of coding. Operationally, this looks like: 1. Find an interesting data set. 2. Develop my research question. 3. Build a prompt including the information from step 1 and 2, then request plots and statistical tests.

This system was working very well, giving great insights, until I realized the AI agent was fabricating all of the data…. File this under reasons AI native users are cooked.

My bioinformatics brain knows when something looks too good to be true, too smooth, or just works too easily. Apparently, the AI agent was biased toward running lightweight dashboard demos, meaning it would look at the structure of the data then guess what the average values would be to make plots that satisfied our hypothesis. After some struggling, and very direct prompt engineering, we coaxed the platform to use REAL data in our plots. I still wonder how many of the other teams were misled by their data being unknowingly fabricated. Regardless, by the end of the five-hour session, 15 out of 15 teams had working prototypes, including maps with predictions of bus station accessibility compliance (my team), home inspection tools, and a bird-watching application.

In the end, this hack-a-thon opened the door for me to learn so much more about new implementations of AI. Up to this point, I’d only ever worked with ChatGPT in a back-and-forth fashion to modify my R codes. After running afoul of the mock data being used in Google AI Studio, I switched to their Antigravity studio system. Antigravity is a fork of VS code built to assist coding with AI agents. This platform has allowed for far more oversight, local execution of scripts, and control over input data. In the week following the hackathon, I wrote four more applications:

1. A dashboard that pulls meta data from the monthly uploads to the NCBI Gene Expression Omnibus (GEO) Repository, tracks trends, identifies the top data sets based on the impact of their associated citation, then writes a report on all the findings.

2. A dashboard that pulls economic indicators of scientific impact from monthly government reports (e.g., STEM-related patents, FDA drug filings, jobs, renewable energy).

3. An app that takes my order request forms, extracts the metadata, writes an email, and asks for my review before sending it for purchasing approval.

4. An iOS/Android app to log board game statistics, analyze trends, and highlight game play strategies.

The first app wrote itself on a Monday while I was doing lab work. I was two floors below my office listening to a podcast and changing cell culture media. There was no back and forth with ChatGPT, searching StackOverflow, or watching YouTube tutorials. I prompted my way to working tools in under an hour. Weirdly, the only trouble now is something like writer’s block, staring at a blank prompt screen wondering what I should create. The key was, and still is, I had a question to pursue. That remains the core of what I do as a scientist, regardless of the tools available to me. I come up with a question, then I use the necessary tools, resources, and relationships to solve it. This process generates something new and hopefully insightful.

I will continue this series over the next several months, documenting my experiences building with new tools and using the Google agentic integrated development environment Antigravity. In the next installment, we will see how data from the NIH Data Book can be used in the search for NIH grant funding. This series, titled “Public Builds” will be accompanied by Github repositories to track and share development along the way.

This was the advice I received during a discussion with an ex-NIH physician-scientist last fall regarding my undiagnosed health issues. Already shrugged off by three allergists, an ENT, and a highly sought-after immunologist, I should have seen this advice coming.

I’ve come to believe there is space in the medical system to allow PhD scientists to work alongside physicians to diagnose the zebras that walk through the doors. We have the diagnostic means to discover the root causes of chronic illnesses, and everyone deserves the chance to gain their health back.

I am an outwardly healthy-looking woman. I run marathons, have a low BMI, and receive normal yearly metabolic blood test results. However, my allergy symptoms had me regularly spiraling into more bad days than good, peaking with regular anaphylaxis during exercise and a complete inability to tolerate grains. The above-mentioned medical professionals passed all of these experiences off as minor inconveniences for a young athlete.

Luckily, I also have a PhD and years of academic training in medicinal chemistry and cell biology.

Fed-up with the U.S. medical system, I began compiling my blood/allergy results and vast symptom catalogue to search for my own chronic illness diagnosis. My primary care physician agreed to help at first, but when I began requesting testing for complex immunological disorders, she ultimately gave up on me as well.

I was experiencing the unexpected burden of being the wrong type of doctor.

I am the type of doctor who has the time and knowledge to digest hundreds of papers and case studies, but no ability to order tests. I am the type of doctor who can receive patient samples and run them in a lab, but not the type who can write scripts to solve their ailments. I possess the knowledge to fix myself, yet have no way to fix myself without working alongside a physician.

In 2023, approximately 194 million adults in the U.S. reported living with one or more chronic conditions — that’s about 76% of the adult population¹. By the year 2050, nearly 100% of adults are predicted to live with one or more chronic illnesses². This level of disease is already destroying our fragile medical system. Medical doctors treat 20 to 30 patients per day, every day, for years on end³. Over 45% of U.S. physicians report feelings of burn out, emotional exhaustion, and severe personal health consequences³. How can we expect our medical professionals to help us feel better if they are barely keeping themselves afloat?

Despite my allergists and immunologist brushing me off, I was able to deduce I very likely had mast cell activation syndrome (MCAS). Mast cells are white blood cells that help maintain homeostasis, initiate tissue repair and angiogenesis, and regulate immune responses⁴. These cells are mainly found in the skin, respiratory, gastrointestinal, and reproductive tracts – the areas I was experiencing the most trouble with⁴. After calling numerous allergy clinics, I was finally connected with a local physician-scientist who was willing to acknowledge mast cells disorders exist.

I understood how he learned to be a medical doctor… so I made myself into a case study. I wrote up my story, printed all my lab results, detailed my responses to various medications, and gave the presumptive diagnosis of MCAS. The crazy part – after being shrugged off by so many medical professionals — he listened. He ordered the labs I wanted ordered (and more). He validated my literature findings. He ordered meds I suggested might work… and did work. Finally, he found me a drug that could help treat the root cause of my disorder – not just suggesting I avoid an entire food group and cover the symptoms with insane doses of antihistamines (I was up to >85 mg/day).

Together, we were able to prove I did have a disorder from mast cell over-activation. Through mutual respect of each other’s expertise, we were able to find a diagnosis and root-cause treatment within six weeks of our first meeting. I aspire to see relationships like this form between physicians and scientists regularly. Together, we can share this chronic illness burden, reduce burnout, and help patients feel better.

This shift needs to start with medical professionals’ willingness to accept theory from doctors who did not attend medical school. Physicians do not have the time to dig deep into literature to find symptom connection and disease causal. Physicians do not have the time to stay up to date on the latest medical breakthroughs when they are expected to treat 30 people a day.

Scientists do.

As a full-time scientist, my goal is to improve medicine. It is my job to read the literature, understand the gaps, and conduct new experiments. Modernized healthcare is moving toward a future where patients have access to more of their data, and personalized medicine is on the horizon. This means access to non-standard testing through third-parties, biologics designed for patient genotype, and autologous immune cell therapies. However, my experience showed me most doctors are not ready to engage with this data-rich future of medicine, or even a patient coming in with their own data and literature.

Together, we can reduce physician burnout, increase patient response, and, just maybe, reduce the diagnosis of chronic illness one patient at a time. We need to work together to solve human disease. The future of modern medicine will rely on tighter collaboration between scientists and doctors. We need to let ‘not-medical-doctors’ into the U.S. medical system if we want to see our patients succeed.

References:

1. https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC10830426/

2. https://www.cdc.gov/pcd/issues/2025/24_0539.htm

3. https://www.ama-assn.org/practice-management/physician-health/what-physician-burnout

4. https://www.aaaai.org/conditions-treatments/related-conditions/mcas

Startup companies are founded every day with two key ambitions. One is that their services will improve society (impact); the other is to make a lot of money (incentive). These two drivers can be in competition or collaboration with each other but are never completely divorced.

Fundamentally, new projects need money to get off the ground. Biotech companies in particular require millions of dollars for development before they see even a cent of revenue. This crucial period of investment and development is lovingly referred to as “the valley of death” and even the cure for cancer would need to make it across (1). To gain the necessary capital, companies need to convince venture capital investors that they will become profitable because their technology will be successful, tap a new market, or outperform competitors.

Biotech is not alone is these struggles. Publicly traded companies and garage run startups make the same promise that they will grow and that you, the investor, stand to gain money. However, we live in a competitive world. To distinguish themselves and garner interest new companies make grand promises, but at the same time lose sight of the problem they claim to solve.

AI + “your problem here” = Revenue Growth

The convergence of artificial intelligence (AI) and “insert any topic here” is ubiquitous is every market. For now we will focus on AI and music as a core example of promises made to solve a problem and promises to earn money. AI generated music has been gaining notoriety. CEOs of these companies claim that the benefit of AI generated music is that it lowers the barriers to entry (2). The problem: music is important, but time consuming to learn the fundamentals. The solution: AI music generation tools require less effort for those without advanced training, time to practice, or access to instruments. So, the promise to investors is that the technology would be helping more people access music AND you’ll make some money since everyone will want to use it. Is AI generated music truly the only solution to this problem?

A more direct solution would be to increase the accessibility to music education in schools. If music was a fundamental part of everyone’s upbringing no one would even need these AI tools. Unfortunately, increasing accessibility to music education in schools is not a promising investment but a philanthropic effort instead. That is unless all education systems are privatized and geared towards profit. Not only is this unlikely, but it would completely displace the desired impact of education systems… to educate.

An Ethical Road to Problem Solving

This is where the goal of entrepreneurial impact conflicts with financial incentives. Many people would agree that music should be accessible to everyone. However, solving the core of the problem by addressing music education does not stand to make money. Other societal problems like climate change and accessibility to healthcare face similar dilemmas. Solutions with the potential for greater impact need to find a way to sell themselves and the original goal becomes secondary. On the other hand, technologies which aim to make money first can also use these societal problems as coincidental selling points. How can we distinguish efforts that aim to solve a problem first from those that are a money making operation? Does the difference ultimately matter if progress is being made?

I don’t believe that there is a clear answer to these questions. New companies should weigh impact and incentive carefully when looking to establish themselves. The most important aspect of successful new technology is that it meets a need of customers, not just a desire. Generating a societal impact is not the main goal of a business strategy, making money is. This should not be seen a discouragement of new technology. Instead, this mindset should be inherent in addressing societal concerns. This would result in a marriage of the two entrepreneurial ambitions mentioned, rapidly progressing society as a whole.

Adapt or… Don’t - The evolution of AI

The release of ChatGPT from OpenAI in 2022 brought the capabilities of large language models into the spotlight. Now we have OpenAI, Anthropic, Meta, Google, and xAI pushing the massive scale up of infrastructure to support development. Variations of AI tools are now ubiquitous, and thoroughly part of our culture. If you use AI, you’ve probably found yourself in a conversation trying to determine the exact benefit or doom AI will bring us. The Fall of 2025 was marked by the forecast of an AI bubble, which seems like it hasn’t popped yet. AI is certainly here to stay, but how will it be embraced and by who?

In academics, AI has started an evolution of how basic research is done. Some investigators fully endorsing its use, while others can’t be bothered to take the time to learn a new tool. Overall, it appears that the true early adopters are undergraduate students, who are significantly outpacing researchers in terms of AI usage. And for good reason, it is the greatest essay cheating tool ever invented!

But really, the explosion of AI tools targeted at students is amazing. I’m happy to have experienced teaching and being a student both before and after AI’s introduction. The major change has been in accessibility, in a recent interview, Nobel Laureate Geoffrey Hinton explained that the theory and mathematics necessary for machine learning were already available by the 1980s. However, we lacked the computational power to make it a reality. Hinton’s 1986 Nature paper1 is credited with reviving the field, inspiring “deep” learning, and computer vision. Though the real advances came with major computational increases in the 2010s, allowing for the explosion of AI in the way we know it now.

Side note, Dartmouth is now recognized as the birthplace of AI in 1956 when they hosted an AI focused summer workshop. This is where diverse research on computer simulation of intelligence coalesced into a single field of AI.2

For a long time, functional AI has been hypothesized or predicted, but it took nearly 60 years to become what it is today. Here the system of science has worked, generations have built upon previous understanding with new tools to create better solutions. What this means, is that really, ChatGPT is nothing new. We’ve long had the math to make it real, and finally the infrastructure can power it. The downside is that the rush en masse to embrace AI has led to poor science and marketing hype. Slapping the “AI Inside” sticker on your product has a certain feeling reminiscent of the old “Intel Inside” sticker.

What does your AI start up do?

Now every new company must incorporate AI in some way to stay relevant. Many recent pitches I’ve seen have some statement of “we’re using AI models for xyz purpose”. This leads me to the two classifications of AI businesses that are likely to exist: vibe coding and vibe analysis.

First is the vibe coding company, which uses AI tools to enhance production. Just like a student writing an essay, things get done faster with a relative expert (the AI) guiding the way. I don’t really have an issue with this because it is unavoidable, efficiency improvements to get more work done will always be adopted. Though in the near term, it’s not great for the future of jobs for skilled and educated workers who thought they were insulated from technological redundancy.

This does make me wonder what will happen when product developers can clock out at 10am after sending out their AI prompts for the day. We must be close to seeing “Prompt Engineer” job postings.

Second, we have the AI science implementation company. This is where the core product itself is “AI” doing ~things~, but the company can’t tell you what that really means. In this usage of AI, the data processing is sent off to a server where it’s manipulated and returned with some added valuable insight. Is it useful? Yes, but it’s not transparent. This is the dangerous version of AI startup development which has the potential to erode scientific rigor. Forget vibe coding, this is pure vibe analysis. When a human is taken out of the loop, the drive to have positive impact for another human is gone. Who cares how efficient you can make cancer diagnosis billing cycle, if there’s not a real person considering what it means to be diagnosed with cancer in the first place?

As a scientist, a black box analysis system is unacceptable due to its susceptibility to bias, data artifacts, confounding variables, and noisy data. This is the area where real researchers work to improve and explain how AI models function. But these drawbacks are hidden from the everyday user who wakes up and decides to build a health data app powered by AI for the first time. With these tools I have no doubt accessibility to technology will enable many more developers and creators by giving them opportunities that did not previously exist. Though we will all have to improve our ability to understand the reality of what we are looking at in an AI world. Anyone can recognize sloppy AI content, but will you know good AI content when you see it?

Relevant podcast recommendations:

This month we’re covering:

• Startups - May 1

• AI - May 8

• Podcasts - May 15

• Quantum - May 22

• Doctors (MDs) - May 29

Who we are

For the last few months Noah, Frank, and Becca have been working away, crafting several stories that have been taking up space in our brains. In the month of May you can expect weekly updates from the founding JUNC writing team. We will be laying the groundwork for more ideas and different series to come.

This month the core team of writers includes Noah and Frank who hold PhDs in biomedical engineering, and Becca who holds a PhD in chemical biology. We are from the same institution and have similar interdisciplinary training, however our research areas differ significantly.

Noah’s dissertation focused on the biological risks encountered during spaceflight. Frank studies innate cell chirality, and how cytoskeleton arrangement drives spatial organization. Becca’s chemistry work aims to modify natural fermentation byproducts to improve the chemotherapeutic properties.

Submit your article

Want to publish with JUNC? Head over to the Submit page.

Enjoy this month’s installment from the team at JUNC!

The Plan

Born from a New Years resolution from 2025, the Journal of Unsubmitted Content (JUNC) is finally taking shape. Our goal is simple: uncover the ideas from academics, researchers, and others in a science and technology that never make it to publication.

Think of all the hours spent contemplating a paradox or unanswered question that never quite becomes a paper. Think of the conversations after seminar where you unpack the implications of new work in your field. Remember the post-work happy hour where you debated something really nerdy for hours?

That’s what we’re after.

What to Expect

We are aiming to launch in May! Here’s a peek at the slate:

• Vibe Coding vs Vibe Analysis, and the Illusion of Understanding

  • Noah explores what it means to be an AI start up in 2026.

• Innovation at the Intersection of Impact and Incentive

  • Frank asks if money will solve all our problems.

• Modern Medicine: Are Doctors Ready?

  • Becca evaluates the current landscape of medicine and asks if anybody is prepared for personalized healthcare.

• Do We Have Free Will in a Quantum World?

  • Frank revisits his interest in figuring out what the heck we’re doing on Earth.

• Top 5 Science Podcasts to Learn More About the World Around You

  • Noah reviews his favorite shows that inspire and educate.

Get Involved

The Journal is looking for contributors! Have something to pitch or a draft ready to go? Review the Author Guidelines on the Submit page and send in your idea to start the process.

Have writers block? We have extra ideas, reach out through the About page for more details.

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