@neusu
Recently there were some posts on neurosurgeryhub that seemed to imply that harassment, sabotage, and even physical abuse were common in neurosurgery residencies. One even went so far as to suggest that fist fights were not unusual. The prevailing attitude seemed to be that all this toughens up residents. On the other hand, there were others who said that sort of stuff is unusual and would not be tolerated by program directors. I'm not sure what to believe since that site has problems with trolling, but some of the things I read were disturbing. How much of this is fact, and how much is fiction?
One of the things that made me look into neurosurgery as a med student were my interactions with the neurosurgery residents. The ones I met were some of the most encouraging residents I have come across and they seemed like genuinely nice people. I'm not sure if I'm being shielded from the uglier side of things because I happened to meet an unusually nice group of residents. I think I could tolerate long hours and getting yelled at by difficult people for 7 years, but I question my ability to tolerate outright bullying on top of all that.
This topic is rather controversial, and my apologies if my answer is insufficient to your question. In my experience in training, I have never witnessed any physical confrontation between neurosurgery residents. I have heard stories, from friends or colleagues, of these types of behaviors, albeit infrequent. A number of factors contribute to this, and in all honesty, I am not sure where my opinion/position on the issue lay. For instance, I agree we should avoid conflict, and seek resolution through amicable means. I also do feel that some of the stress involved, and the hierarchy we enforce, is necessary both to learn as well as, as you put it, "toughen up." Can we have it both ways?
Neurosurgery is a small community, the largest program in the country takes 4 residents per year. We also, as a field, tend to be very busy, have a lot of very sick patients, and are relied upon by others within the medical community for our expertise on an area which is scary to them. Our training length is long, at 7 years. Adding these components together results in an environment wherein many very capable, ambitious people come together, in a very confined, high pressure environment, and egos and tempers naturally flair. The trope is that neurosurgeons are arrogant, and think they are god. While I have yet to meet a neurosurgeon who truly does have this belief, I have met many arrogant neurosurgeons with a notable amount of hubris. In my experience, the most conflict arises when personalities conflict, or feelings are hurt. For example, a junior resident who is insubordinate, or drops the ball, or fails to respond to appropriate feedback. For the former, a weaker chief or senior may resort to threats or attacks for motivation, and the latter again can be difficult to counter.
In all, I think your assessment that the vast majority of our residents are exceptional individuals. We tend to be very nice, and encouraging of medical students. Even so, we have an edge, and exceptionally high expectations for both ourselves, and those around us. Much of training is learning to handle these expectations, and how to motivate people to reach our pre-determined goals for them. Likewise, how to be realistic, and not become upset at others because we expect too much.
Can I say for certain it is true or not? No. When I speak to my mentors or advisers, we often reminisce over the shared hardships. We tend to have locker-room talk, one-upping one another with stories of our past be it patients or families we have interracial with, but also our encounters with our co-residents or fellows, or other services. Some of it may be bravado, but I do suspect there is a vein of truth to the majority of these stories.
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