Postdoctoral researcher in behavioural ecology. PhD in cognitive neuroscience. I'm also learning to engage in and promote a better science: open, inclusive, accessible; slow.

How do I implement slow science principles in my research practice?

“How do I implement slow science principles in my research practice?”

I was recently taken aback by this question. Ironically, for someone who tries to advocate for more humanity and community in academia, I hadn’t really considered myself as a key player in that quest. Partly because I believe changes must be systemic, and that individual actions from those who don’t hold positions of power or are established (i.e., have a permanent contract) don’t have as much impact.
But it’s only legit to ask that question, nonetheless. How am I aligned with the values I defend or believe in?
I guess it would also help with storytelling when giving a talk on slow science.
But I also don’t want people to fall into the trap that if they implement small changes in their practice to tick that box off, then they’re good to go. Of course, individual actions matter, but they’re far from being enough to tackle the big problem that we are confronted with: academia isn’t sustainable and has been infected with the neo-liberal virus. We must keep producing at all costs, with the consequences that those who are vocal on the topic know all too well [and which have been backed up by data]:

  • Too many papers of lower quality that are hardly read, without mentioning the publishers’ shameful profits
  • Heavily biased funding and opportunities, favouring wealthy countries and specific research labs or centres, sometimes so-called “centres of excellence”
  • The plague of trendy topics and the favouring of applied research that provides direct benefits to the funder. Hence, not even all types of applied research, nuance is important.
  • Scarcity of more stable positions with a stark increase in competition
    • Who gets to stay in academia?
    • Disability, family, other “constraints”
    • How does their profile impact the type of research conducted?
  • Having time to think deeply about a topic, to interact with peers and discuss research ideas becomes a privilege

Now, looking at this non-exhaustive list, how can I, at my level and in my practice, be mindful of those consequences of how academia currently works? Ideally, it should be something that makes sense to me, and I don’t need to; rather, I can’t implement everything that would be needed to challenge the system and its flaws.

Instead of publishing at all costs, I prefer to publish papers that are of higher quality in terms of experimental design, data analysis, or tested hypotheses. Sometimes, it means fewer papers but in “better” journals, sometimes it doesn’t.
I also want to emphasise the collective aspect of research by participating in initiatives that are spread across the world, such as Many”X” (e.g. ManyFishes, ManyManys, ManyPrimates) or FORRT research projects. This also means fewer first-author papers, but it is also a great way to connect with like-minded fellows, and this could lead to interesting collaborations.

Regarding the pace of research, this is a constant struggle due to the irregularity of some deadlines and workload load and to my own limitations in terms of work capabilities. There are periods where I just cannot focus and have to stick to repetitive tasks that don’t require too much cognitive energy. I had to learn to deal with those fluctuations, and even after several years, the frustration of not being able to do more or enough remains.
If there is one thing I think we should really work on improving in academia, it is to be more inclusive of people’s rhythms and temporal constraints. Be it due to a health condition, for family reasons, or other responsibilities, I believe that we are far from being mindful that we cannot constantly overwork ourselves. This is beneficial to no one, neither to the quality of our research nor teaching.

I had to come to peace with the fact that I might never be part of the few that get tenured. Irrespective of my health conditions, my fluctuating self-esteem or my geographic preferences (yes, I’d rather stay somewhere in Europe, close to my already spread-out relatives). That means I actively choose to prioritise my well-being over cramming myself for a grant application or a tenure-track position.
Sometimes I believe I can do it all, and my body reminds me I am no superhuman.
This, I think, is the toughest realisation for me. After idealising the job of a researcher, projecting so much hope in getting a position, and realising that this is more likely not to happen. But this also doesn’t mean I have given up. I will do what I can, and if this isn’t enough, then it’s how it is. It won’t say anything about who I am as a person. It won’t be a personal attack against my core identity. It will just be an acceptance that if there is no room for me in there, then be it. Being a researcher is only a job. Even if it might be the greatest job there is, it is still just a job. Other beautiful things in life are worth exploring. This way, I can enjoy my time as a researcher more. Because I know it could well not last forever, but that wouldn’t be the end of my world. This really helps with investing time and joy in other activities and not having any regrets later in life.
If I have to find a different job because all funding options are exhausted, I will move on, just as one moves on from being a postdoc to a tenured researcher or to a tenure-track position.
In the meantime, I’ll keep talking about slow science and what academia could look like. I will keep protesting against budget cuts in higher education. And I will keep doing my best for people outside of academia to be involved and to hold us accountable for our actions.

It is a beautiful story, but you cannot give that kind of answer to a hiring committee member, can you?

As a final note, here is a reflection that Isabelle Stengers attributed to Virginia Woolf:

Let girls go to university, but let them not pursue a career there or in other professions promising prestige and influence. Let them take advantage of the university to acquire knowledge that truly emancipates them, but let them remain on the margins. For they will not be able to change the ethos demanded by these professors: aggressive rivalry, intellectual prostitution, attachment to abstract ideals.