I was just starting high school when I heard my grandfather berating my older cousin about his higher-education choices. “Look in the newspaper,” he said. “Do you see any jobs in that profession?” Now, as a postdoc facing the search for a 'real' job, I realize that I might have benefited from a refresher in the economics of supply and demand when first considering my career.

Scientists excel at following protocols. Most have adhered to the same career path: getting good grades in high school and college, getting good grades and publishing papers in graduate school, and publishing more papers as a postdoc. The assumption, especially in the United States, is that this will culminate in a tenure-track faculty position at a good university, followed by tenure and, eventually, emeritus status. Few talented, aspiring scientists detour from this trajectory at an early stage, because most find that good grades are easy to achieve and that there are ample predoctoral and postdoctoral positions. But now, as I confront the academic job bottleneck, I finally have to admit that there are not enough faculty positions for everyone.

These notions are not the musings of a jaded postdoc. I wholeheartedly enjoy the bench and thrive on Socratic discussions with my colleagues and superiors, resolving our different views through rational discourse. But today's academic job market is not encouraging for those intent on a faculty position. According to the US National Science Board's report Science and Engineering Indicators 2010, 56% more science and engineering doctorates were awarded by US institutions in 2007 than in 1993. The number of postdocs grew by 44% between 1993 and 2006. The number of tenured and tenure-track faculty positions increased by only 10% in the same period, and the number of non-tenure-track academic positions increased by 51%.

I see a job market that's changing dramatically for those with doctorates in science. 'Alternative' careers are increasingly becoming the norm. Sometimes, I feel that all roads are leading me away from the bench. The job-market statistics alone are overwhelming, but my lab data also never flow as quickly as I would like. Furthermore, I wonder whether I can handle the pressure of continually producing positive results — I find that working hard does not always yield valuable scientific conclusions. And I've watched more-experienced colleagues with novel findings have their manuscripts rejected time and again. I wonder whether I should satisfy my love of discovery in a different way.

Still, I feel as though I have to sneak off to careers seminars where scientists describe their non-traditional paths. Thoughts of alternative career choices are still dirty secrets for some. Despite many science PhD graduates becoming patent attorneys, science writers or consultants, I'm embarrassed. I have to cajole myself into reasoning that considering other options does not make me a failure but rather a pragmatist. I can't pretend that the past 12 years of schooling and research will lead to the lab-head position that I dreamed about in high-school chemistry class.

As a nod to my grandfather, I take an hour away from those irreproducible results. Forgoing newsprint for my laptop, I type 'biomedical PhD jobs' into Google, in the hope of finding that 'real' job.