Friday, April 19, 2024

Is Open Science passé?

I recently got a grant rejection - but I swear this blog post won't be whinging about rejections. Rather, I'd like to start by sharing a reviewer's comment that surprised me: The proposal is not novel, they wrote, because it's all about replicability and open science and blah blah blah, and we already know all about that since the Ioannidis 2005 paper, published almost 20 years ago now! Yes, I replied to the reviewer in my head. But have we actually solved this issue?

In a way, I understand where the reviewer is coming from. The other day, I opened the latest issue of the German academic journal, "Forschung und Lehre". On the first page was an article about the p-value, and how it doesn't mean what many researchers seem to think it means. "But we've been talking about that for decades now, surely everyone already knows this!", I thought and skipped to the next page. 

Today, I taught a workshop on Open Science for a masters programme. I've been doing similar courses for similar audiences for a number of years now. Every year, I show a slide with the results of the Open Science Collaboration (2015) replication efforts. "Who has heard of this study before?" I ask. I started teaching in about 2016, and found that most students, including bachelor students, were familiar with the study and its provocative results. Today, what I was presenting seemed to be new to many students. On the one hand, that's good for me - I was able to tell the students something new, rather than repeating things they already knew, anyway. On the other hand, I wondered, do people not care about replicability any more?

The Open Science community, at the beginning, was a close-knit group on twitter. My reputation in academia (such as it is) is largely thanks to this community: from the beginning, I was active by tweeting and writing blog posts about Open Science, and within the community, such posts were spread widely. However, long before this community was scattered across various alternative platforms such as Mastodon and BlueSky, it had grown into fractions that spent a lot of their time fighting each other. Fashions come and go - I have learned that in my teenage years, after which I made the conscious decision to ignore all clothing trends. So maybe Open Science is just not cool anymore.

This raises the question: Has the open science movement failed in it mission to improve science? Or, on the contrary, did it solve the issues so efficiently that it is no longer needed? The first scenario is, unfortunately, more likely. I myself am guilty of having been too dogmatic and over-simplifying, in my mind, the ways in which Open Science can, and should, improve science. But has Open Science really unleashed its full potential in improving science? I sincerely believe that this is not the case. I feel like the discussions about how Open Science works and, indeed, what outcome we want to achieve, is only just starting to take shape. Many questions remain, such as: What is important for good research? Via what mechanisms do Open Science practices impact the research quality (positively or negatively)?

This blog post, again, has more open questions than answers. So, dear Reviewer 2, if you're reading this blog post: When you review proposals involving reproducibility and Open Science, please don't reject them on the basis that we already know everything already.

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Why working as a postdoc under WissZeitVG is not compatible with family: An experience report

I had to force my hand to sign my last work contract. A work contract for 12 more month, plus an additional document with a justification that my activities will contribute to my further qualifications, so that the contract can fall under the Wissenschaftszeitvertragsgesetz - a blatant lie, as I've already finished my habilitation, the highest qualification one can achieve. I bit my tongue, knowing that any cynical comment from my side would achieve nothing but ruining the day of the admin lady. I left her office, not feeling happy, as I previously had whenever I signed a contract that enabled me to get paid for doing what I love. My main thought was that I'd drawn yet another line in a perverse game of hangman. 

The Wissenschaftszeitvertragsgesetz - WissZeitVG - limits the amount of time that one can work as a postdoc. One has 6 years to either get a professorship or to quit academia. Of course, it's not easy to get a professorship at all, let alone one that doesn't require the uprooting and moving of the whole family. Having a realistic chance of a professorship comes with a lot of pressure to publish and get grants. Additionally, in my case, all of my salary - and that of my PhD students - is paid from grants. This puts existential pressure to receive even more grants. At the same time, of course, don't neglect the publications, which you need not only to get a position, but also to get more grants. In short, a vicious cycle. 

Even without the additional factor of family, being in a senior postdoc position seems incompatible with doing high-quality research: I have to write strong, innovative grants, but don't have the time to write proposals that are strong enough that even I myself find them convincing. On top of that, I have to work on my ongoing project and publish as much as possible from them. Add to that the standard admin tasks, and one ends up with a bunch of half-finished projects and very little time to drive any of them forward.

I used to take pride in my ability to work efficiently. I didn't think that having a child would make a huge difference to this ability, but it does. I returned from parental leave after only 4 months. I gradually increased my working hours to 80%. In reality, I work more than that, but I still get less done that I would have BC (before child). I think what I miss most is having a large stretch of time. Now, it is no longer an option to spend all of Saturday working on a paper, or to stay in the office till 8pm to finish writing a grant section. It just isn't. And that seems to make the difference between working in a demanding, but fulfilling job, and constantly feeling like one is failing at juggling with raw eggs. 

On the surface, these may seem to be unrelated problems - working in academia is hard, and being a working mum is hard. Academia has never been a walk in the park, but I don't make choices in life because I want to make things easy. Why I came to the conclusion that family life and working under the WissZeitVG is incompatible for me is that my productivity took a large hit - precisely at the time when I have to work harder than I ever did to have any chance to climb to the top. I'd love for someone to tell me: "While you have a small child, you *won't* be as productive as you were previously - and that's OK!" But it's not OK - because by the time he'll grow up and I'll be able to return to my previous levels of efficiency, I'll have been kicked out of the system a long time ago by the WissZeitVG. 

I made a decision after I'd signed my last work contract: I will never sign another contract under the WissZeitVG again. And if this means I'll have to leave academia, then so be it. The alternative would be to stick around for yet another year, again and again, apply for more grants, hoping that something will come along. Maybe I'd win the lottery, but maybe I wouldn't. And in the meantime, I wouldn't have any time to do what I love, anyway, which is producing research of a quality that I'm happy with.

Like a love-sick teenager, I can't help but wonder: Can this really be it? How can it be over when it was so nice while it lasted? Would I give academia another chance if it wants me back? Of course, if I got a permanent position, the equation would change. But at some stage, the conclusion that some things are not worth it becomes inevitable.