Begin with a Real Question, Not a Hypothesis
When I started graduate studies in biology in the 1970s, the expectation was that you came to the lab with a theory and then designed experiments to prove it. That approach works if you already know what you’re looking for. But if you want to discover something genuinely new, you have to start with curiosity instead of certainty.
I would tell anyone entering this field now to follow the question that genuinely interests them, even if it sits outside the mainstream. For me, it was water. Not as a solvent or a background substance, but as something with structure and function that might matter at the cellular level. That question led to decades of research, multiple patents, and work that still drives what I do today.
If you don’t care deeply about the question, you won’t last through the difficult middle years when nobody else cares either.
Expect Disbelief, and Build the Evidence Anyway
One of the hardest parts of working in a field that challenges conventional thinking is that you will face skepticism. Not just polite doubt, but outright dismissal. When I began talking about clustered water in the late 1980s, the reaction from many scientists and clinicians was that it couldn’t be true because it didn’t fit the existing models.
That disbelief doesn’t mean you’re wrong. It means you need better evidence.
I spent years conducting studies, working with trusted physicians, and documenting results in ways that could be replicated. I pursued patents not just to protect the technology, but to force the work through the rigorous scrutiny that patent examiners demand. I sought out academic collaboration and published in peer-reviewed settings. Every piece of validation mattered.
If you’re working on something that contradicts what most people believe, you need to be twice as careful and ten times as persistent. The burden of proof is on you, and it should be.
Find Collaborators Who Challenge You
I could not have done this work alone. From my early days as a research associate at UC Irvine to the founding of Cluster Solutions in 1989, I have relied on scientists and physicians who were willing to ask hard questions and hold my work to high standards.
The best collaborators are not the ones who agree with everything you say. They’re the ones who push back, who ask for more data, and who help you see the gaps in your reasoning. If you surround yourself only with people who believe what you believe, you’ll miss the weaknesses in your own arguments.
I recommend building a small network of experts whose judgment you trust, even when that judgment is uncomfortable. Those relationships are what keep your work honest.
Learn to Separate Signal from Noise
In any emerging area of research, there will be a lot of noise. People will make claims that sound similar to yours but are not based on the same rigor. Others will try to capitalize on interest in the field without doing the underlying science. This can make it harder for legitimate research to be taken seriously.
I have seen this happen repeatedly in water science. As interest in hydration and water quality has grown, so has the number of products and claims that lack scientific support. That environment makes it even more important for serious researchers to be clear about what they know, what they’re still testing, and what remains unknown.
Don’t overstate your findings. Don’t let enthusiasm outpace your data. And when you publish or present, be transparent about methodology and limitations. The credibility of the entire field depends on researchers who are willing to draw those lines.
Patience Is Not Optional
If I could go back and tell my younger self one thing, it would be this: the timeline is longer than you think, and that’s okay.
From my wife’s illness in 1985, which became the catalyst for this research, to the granting of my first patent in 1998, more than a decade passed. During that time, there were years when progress felt invisible. There were setbacks, false starts, and moments when I questioned whether the work would ever be recognized.
But the research kept moving forward because I kept working. Not in dramatic leaps, but in steady increments. I ran experiments. I revised protocols. I collected feedback. I refined the technology. And slowly, the evidence accumulated.
Anyone entering a new area of science today should expect the same. Breakthroughs are rare. What matters more is consistency, rigor, and the willingness to keep going when nobody else is paying attention.
Stay Close to the Problem You’re Trying to Solve
One of the reasons I have stayed motivated for so many years is that the work has always been connected to real people and real outcomes. My wife’s illness was the starting point, but over the years I have heard from countless individuals who used the technology and reported changes in their quality of life.
That connection to human experience keeps the research grounded. It reminds me why the work matters, and it provides a kind of feedback that laboratory data alone cannot offer.
If you’re starting out in this field, I would encourage you to stay close to the people your research is meant to help. Listen to them. Learn from them. Let their experiences inform your questions. Science that loses touch with human need often becomes abstract in ways that limit its usefulness.
Final Thought
Starting out in water research, or any area that sits at the edge of accepted science, requires a particular kind of perseverance. You need curiosity, rigor, humility, and patience. You need to be willing to work for years without recognition and to accept that some people will never take your work seriously, no matter how strong your evidence becomes.
But if the question is real, and if you’re committed to following it wherever it leads, then the work is worth doing. That’s what I’ve learned over more than three decades in this field, and it’s what I believe still holds true today.