Taboos and tricky topics: opinions from science culture webinars
January saw us launch a new series called 'Science culture: Taboos and tricky topics'.
We invite people from a range of roles and career stages across the chemical sciences to discuss the various tensions inherent in implementing a more positive science culture.
The series takes the form of a series of panel discussions, streamed live on our YouTube and LinkedIn channels.
Professor Candy Rowe and Dr Natércia das Neves Rodrigues Lopes took part in the first session of the series, entitled 'Can a commitment to improving science culture impact your career prospects?'
Find out more about the series, including upcoming sessions and recordings of past sessions, at
Dr Natércia das Neves Rodrigues Lopes
Success is personal: Re-imagining science’s purpose
Academia has become increasingly more competitive over the years, with the number of permanent academic positions lagging far behind the soaring numbers of PhDs awarded each year.
The precariousness and fierce competition of scientific careers forces researchers to overextend themselves looking to ‘stand out’ in grant proposals or job applications.
Peter Higgs himself – the physicist who discovered the Higgs boson, often referred to as ‘the God particle’ in mainstream media – told The Guardian, in 2013, he did not believe he would have been ‘productive enough for today’s academic system’. If a Nobel Prize winner is not productive enough for today’s academic system, who is?
As a result of this unsustainable level of competition, today’s researchers overwork themselves, too many times to the point of burnout, out of fear of ending up unemployed or forced to abandon their chosen profession. Often, the choice is between fighting to maintain an academic career and prioritising their own health, family, and life.
The consequences of this are clearly very serious at a personal level, but they also hinder scientific progress. Hostile environments inevitably push people away from academic careers, with those most vulnerable (especially those from underrepresented groups) being most likely to be pushed out.
This loss of talent and diversity of thinking is disastrous for scientific progress: with each scientist that abandons a scientific career, we lose their unique research questions as well as new ways to answer them.
Research-focused institutions cannot push the boundaries of knowledge and create long-lasting impact, as they often claim to do, without the contributions of the talented scientists they are unwilling to fight for.
I believe that turning the tide on this damagingly competitive research culture revolves around a re-definition of purpose. What do scientists do? That is: what is the role of a scientist in society, and how do we measure a scientist’s success?
For example, should a researcher’s goal be to publish as many papers as possible, and is an h-index a good indication of someone’s value as a researcher? What happens (and it does happen) when a person publishes low-quality, heavily plagiarised articles to low-impact journals, with the sole purpose of inflating their metrics? Is this what research should be about?
The same goes for toxic ideas around working impossible hours for days on end with no breaks or holidays, to gain a ‘competitive edge’; research requires time, pondering, a clear mind and creativity, which can only happen when people are rested and alert.
In essence, as a scientific research community, we need to take the time to ponder what we are ultimately trying to achieve, and if what we are doing is the best way to do it.
Determining what science’s role in society is and, therefore, what a scientist’s purpose is, should be a collective debate involving both the scientific community and civil society. Nevertheless, we must also accept that ‘success’ is personal. Each researcher will have a different understanding of their role within their communities, and value different forms of impact.
Carrying out and overseeing research work, publishing papers, peer reviewing, presenting at conferences, teaching and mentoring students are all likely to be important for most researchers.
But so will other things such as science communication and outreach programs, equality, diversity, and inclusion (ED&I) initiatives, advocacy, activism, policy making and so many other forms of impact a scientist can make.
The value of these varied contributions must be recognised not only when hiring and promoting researchers at research institutions, but also when planning and strategising the future at governmental level. Addressing complex global challenges depends on training and nurturing talent within a diverse scientific community.
Daring to re-imagine science’s purpose has the potential to transform research culture. If, as I like to believe, science is a tool for the betterment of people’s lives, ruthless competition is not the way we fulfil science’s purpose in society.
Instead, we should value collaboration and collective efforts, and reward researchers for the impact they have in their communities. Importantly, we must understand science’s impact to be much broader than publications generated by research, patents, or potential final products.
Science can – and, I would argue, should – also impact society by helping people make informed choices, by creating spaces where everyone can explore the world, and by daring to be curious.
Recognising these contributions and making them part of what we consider a successful scientist is paramount to creating a research culture where people flourish, and diversity is celebrated. This is how science stands any chance of continuing to be an agent of progress and human development.
Professor Candy Rowe
Leading the way to a better science culture
Over the past 10 years, I have held a series of leadership roles that have focused on building a more positive research culture at Newcastle University.
I have been an academic lead for equality, diversity and inclusion (EDI) in my faculty, the director of a university-wide fellowship scheme (Newcastle Academic Track, or NUAcT, fellowships), and am now Dean for Research Culture and Strategy for the institution.
In many ways, I’ve been lucky – to have been allocated workload for this type of work, giving me a framework by which I can give my time, and be formally recognised for the contributions I make.
However, for others, it’s not quite that easy. Being a role model, an advocate, or an influencer, for a better research culture can feel like valuable things to be and do. However, these roles take time away from what many see as more core or ‘promotable’ activities (think: writing papers, grants, etc…). How can this be resolved?
This was the topic of the recent 91AV webinar that I spoke at, which brought together panel members from different institutions and career stages to share their experiences.
It was super inspiring to hear from colleagues passionate about improving research culture, and doing brilliant work for their research communities. But there are real challenges to doing so – the time it takes, and perhaps less recognised, the emotional labour involved.
Additionally, the impact of the work can be harder to quantify – how do you measure research culture or colleague and student experience? How do you demonstrate the impact that you as an individual have had?
The conversations at the panel discussion made me reflect on the journey I’ve had, and what the personal benefits of being committed to building a more positive and inclusive culture have been for me.
I think it can be easy to focus on the challenges, but looking back, the work has actually helped me in a number of ways, both personally and professionally. From the perspective of my own research, it’s made it all a lot more enjoyable.
I aim to work in partnership with PhD students, researchers and professional services colleagues, and create a group or team that recognises and values different ideas and ways of doing things. Good ideas and innovative solutions come from everywhere, and creating environments where people feel safe and encouraged to share and explore their ideas has really benefitted the projects I’ve been involved with.
These kinds of environments also really motivate people, helping them stretch and grow – seeing early career researchers develop their confidence and start to take ownership of their research is absolutely one of the joys of the job.
Stepping into advocacy roles has also helped me develop personally and as a leader. Working in spaces that go beyond my normal routine and academic unit has helped me build up my network. It’s amazing how often I can call on that network to help me with my work, for example, finding people with particular skills or research interests.
By working on flagship projects with professional services colleagues, I have developed a deeper appreciation for the role different job families play in implementing strategic initiatives that can drive culture change (our EDI Toolkit for Researchers is a good example of this).
I now better understand how the university works, and can put myself in the shoes of senior leaders and managers – knowing what they value can be really important for winning people over to a particular point of view, or agreeing to support a new initiative.
Working at an institutional level can open your eyes to how you can build a vision to bring people along and the importance of setting direction, as well as how to think more strategically about what you’re trying to achieve.
I don’t think any of this was obvious to me when I started out (and certainly wasn’t why I did it!) but looking back I can see how valuable this work has been for my own development.
And perhaps the best thing is, I’ve met the most brilliant people along the way – people who give me energy when times feel hard, who have challenged me and provided me with the motivation I need, and who have also made me think harder about what I can do, and where I can most valuably focus my energy.
So, my final advice is to find “your tribe”, people rich in how they nourish and energise you, and remind you that building a positive research culture is absolutely part of everyone’s role.