There are several questions I get asked recurrently.
Q1: Why did you leave academia?
A1: I didn't have to. My position at Duke was "soft money" but in no immediate danger. I'd applied for several faculty jobs, done one interview, and scheduled another. Leaving wasn't easy, but after thinking things over very hard for quite awhile, I concluded that although I'd been a mostly happy and fairly productive student and postdoc, I'd almost surely be neither happy nor productive, in any sense that matters to me, as a faculty member.
The essence of the matter is that faculty members at major universities are now employed not so much to do research as to manage it and, above all, to get money for it. As Paul Graham observed, "Professors nowadays seem to have become professional fundraisers who do a little research on the side." Ultimately, there are several reasons why, including a decline in federal research funding precipitated by the end of the Cold War, so-called tax revolts that have left state universities cash-strapped, and other trends in American society and government. Proximately, the driving force is that in many fields, the available dollars have been dwindling for years, at least per researcher and often for the field as a whole. As the pie has gotten ever smaller, professional survival has demanded ever more strenuous efforts to get a piece of it. I foresaw a future in which however much I struggled to concentrate on science, my thoughts would be dominated by money and its concomitants, politics and bureaucracy.
And I foresaw that the resulting science (steered by me but actually done by my students and postdocs) would probably be, like most academic science, of little consequence. Thomas Merton remarked, "There is always a temptation to diddle around in the contemplative life, making itsy-bitsy statues." It isn't only in the contemplative life. Most academic research is of little interest even when it's first published, let alone 10 or 20 years later; many academic papers aren't cited even once. Genuinely innovative thinking is never easy, but certain characteristics of academia make it harder. Money, politics, and bureacracy are severely distracting. Moreover, as Stuart Rojstaczer observed, "With so little money available, funding agencies have become very cautious in the type of work they are supporting. They want 'proven results' [and] a 'high probability of success' for their money." So they fund proposals that go just a little bit beyond what's already been done.
I don't consider myself to have abandoned science by leaving academia. Indeed, I've continued to collaborate and contribute. At present, I'm focused on my nascent company CardVine, but I'm determined to return to science in due course. People who doubt the feasibility of high-quality basic research outside academia should recall that Charles Darwin was never a faculty member, Albert Einstein did much of his best work while employed by the Swiss patent office, etc. Of course, I'm not claiming to be the next Darwin or Einstein. I may never do any science of much interest outside academia. However, I think I stand a better chance outside than I would inside. That may well not be true of other people - some people are better at fighting off distractions, and some kinds of science need more institutional support - but I'm pretty sure it's true of me.
Q2: Given your background, why didn't you start a biotech company?
A2: I thought about it but decided against it. Biotech companies tend to need several years and several million dollars to develop a product. I'm impatient, and having to sell an idea to venture capitalists before even starting to realize it sounded too much like the grant grind I left academia to get away from (see Q1). Besides, CardVine occurred to me, and I really liked it.
Q3: Were you involved in that boating disaster in the Gulf of California?
A3: Yes. It was an ecological research expedition in March, 2000. I was in a small boat that capsized in a wind-driven swell. Of my eight companions, five died, including the leader of the expedition. I could easily have died too, but with help from another survivor, I got to shore. I'd never been much of an aquatic animal, and now I'm even less so.