The Illusion of Perfection in Academia
In academia, there’s an overwhelming pressure to present ourselves as “perfect.”
We often only show the successful side of our work—published papers, awards, and grants—hiding the struggles, failures, and doubts that are an integral part of the scientific process.
But what if we radically embraced transparency? You knew me – or at least scratch just a little bit beyond the surface of my CV.
What if we acknowledged that being a good scientist isn’t just about producing results but about the entire journey, including the setbacks and self-doubt?
This is the approach I’ve taken with R3ciprocity, and it’s one that has resonated deeply with so many academics and innovators.
The story we are suppose to present is one of confidence and of being a scientific leader. “I know everything as a professor.”
The truth is I don’t. We don’t.
Or, get the PDF of the Bumbling Fool book for free here.
The Truth About Research: It’s Messy and Uncertain
From the very beginning of our education-since 3rd grade for me, we’re taught the scientific method:
- observe,
- hypothesize,
- experiment,
- analyze,
- conclude
- Share your insights.
We are suppose to keep a scientific research diary. Record everything. Record your 5 senses. Record how you feel, and what you see.
But the reality of research is far messier.
Nobody records how they feel or what they actually see in science. They often say they do, but they don’t.
Why?
Experiments fail, hypotheses are dreamed up and then we have to destroy them.
We think that writing about “feelings” is not real science.
Why would anyone want to know about that? That is “sissy” stuff.
We think that talking about failure is not real science.
That did not work. Why talk about it?
Most often, despite our best efforts, we end up with nothing to show for months of work. It’s easy to feel like a failure when things don’t go as planned, especially in a culture that often values only the final product.
I openly shared my feelings of inadequacy online. For example, recently wrote about attending our major conference–Academy of Management, which I am deeply involved with. I know some people quite well there. It’s an excellent conference. There are great people at the conference. Almost all are very welcoming.
Yet, at the conference, I felt unprepared and unsuccessful, especially compared to others who seemed to have everything together.
I “feel” so “stupid.” (I realize that comes across as unsensitive, but when I talk about “stupid,” I am talking about me and how I feel.)
But what I realized—and what I want to share publically—is that most of us feel this way at some point. The academic world can be isolating, because we collectively want to demostrate that to everyone that we are good enough. Some of us are, and some of us are not.
But, we don’t share that, because the norms of a good scientist is not to be honest about these feelings. This is not good science. This is not a good researcher.
But, we collectively often need a community of support.
Or at least to whine about why this sometimes feels difficult (It feels good to be validated).
The Emotional Rollercoaster of Research
Research is an emotional journey. There are moments of doubt, shame, and fear, followed by brief bursts of euphoria when things go right. The highs can be incredibly rewarding, but the lows can be crushing.
I don’t drink, do drugs, but I am an addict of discovery. I’ve experienced it all—the anger when my work is dismissed, the joy of a small victory, and the sadness that follows another rejection.
I think about the money I have spent on the R3ciprocity Project, just to have people discount it.
“It’s just a blog.”
“It’s just ChatGPT”
“You are just a motivational speaker.”
No.
I am innovating. I want better science. I want more science. It’s hard.
Every researcher or innovator will likely feel these emotions–anger, frustrations, joy, lack of recognition, and so many more–at some point. These emotions are universal, yet we rarely talk about them.
By acknowledging them, we can help normalize the experience and remind ourselves and others that feeling uncertain or lost is part of the process. If you are a junior scholar, or an entrepreneur, how do you ever feel validated if you never talk about what really happens.
Go on YouTube, you will see bullshit about innovation. Absolute bullshit.
Read a textbook on innovation or the “Scientific Method.” You will see more bullshit.
Do you REALLY know what it means to innovate, or be a scientist?
It means feeling like you are wrong everyday, or at least puzzled. But, being addicted.
I am a yet another tragic addict of science.
Give me another “hit.”
These negative feelings are not a sign of failure; it’s a sign that we’re pushing boundaries and exploring new territory.
The Struggle to Make an Impact
One of the most challenging aspects of being a researcher is the struggle to make an impact. (What the hell is impact mean anyway?)
I’ve poured countless hours and resources into building the R3ciprocity Platform, yet I often feel like people don’t fully appreciate the effort behind it. It’s disheartening to work on something so deeply and not see immediate recognition or success.
Perhaps, you feel the same way about your project?
But this is where transparency becomes powerful.
By sharing the behind-the-scenes struggles—whether it’s the financial cost, the time investment, or the emotional toll—we can foster empathy and support within the academic community. It’s not about seeking pity but about building a shared understanding that success doesn’t come easily, and it often requires persistence in the face of repeated failure.
I study failure. Most of our life is failure.
Changing the Narrative: Rewarding the Right Behaviors
Perhaps, this is the most important thing. How are we ever going to change if we never talk?
How do other stakeholders know–new grad students, government officials, possible financial donors–, if we only share what is perfect?
If we want to create a healthier, more supportive academic environment, we need to change the narrative. Instead of only celebrating the final successes, we should also reward the behaviors that lead to them—resilience, perseverance, collaboration, and the willingness to take risks and face uncertainty.
Why would you ever give money to those that talk about success all day? I don’t believe that bullshit. Do you?
That is not real. Real is being in the dirt. Real is having real problems.
I know somebody knows something when they have experienced a problem or two.
I pose a question: What if we made happiness and well-being key performance indicators (KPIs) in science and academia? (In addition to citations, impact, etc.)
It’s a radical idea, but it’s one worth considering. By valuing the process as much as the outcome, we can encourage a more balanced approach to research—one that prioritizes the well-being of scientists alongside their productivity.
But, why should that feel like a radical idea?
How the R3ciprocity Project Connects and Inspires Through Truth
At its core, the R3ciprocity Platform is about more than just academic feedback system—a platform to create non-rejectable research papers and grants—it’s about creating a community where researchers can be open about their experiences and support one another through the challenges of their work.
By normalizing the struggles, we can inspire each other to keep going, even when the path ahead is uncertain.
The key to connecting with people is making them feel seen and understood. When I share my “truths”—whether it’s feeling like an outsider at a conference, grappling with doubt about my career choices, or facing yet another rejection—I’m not just venting. I’m inviting others to see themselves in my experiences and to know that they are not alone. This authenticity resonates because it’s real, and it’s something that many people in academia are hungry for.
This is being a real scientist. I am doing my job. I am just writing in my scientific diary. I am deseminating information and results. This is good science.
The Importance of Community in Academia
Academia can be a lonely place, especially when you’re facing challenges that others might not see. But it doesn’t have to be. By building a community where people feel safe to share their experiences, we can create a more supportive environment that helps us all grow.
R3ciprocity.com is about fostering that sense of community. It’s about recognizing that while we may be working on different projects or in different fields, the fundamental experiences of research—the uncertainty, the failure, the fleeting moments of success—are shared. And by supporting each other through those experiences, we can make the academic world a little less daunting and a lot more collaborative.
You can learn from my experiences.
Embracing the Full Experience of Being a Scientist
Being a good scientist isn’t just about publishing papers or securing grants. It’s about embracing the full experience of research, with all its ups and downs. It’s about being an addict of discovery. A true addict. Everyone in science knows this. You can’t see it from the outside, but us researchers and scientists know what I am talking about. People can end up in bad places because of this addiction.
Or, you can be in a good place, with lots of support and a warm cup of coffee.
If you are open about our struggles, with supporting our peers, and recognizing that success is often the result of persistence and many other factors outside of your control.
Through R3ciprocity, I’m committed to creating a platform that not only helps researchers improve their work but also connects them in a meaningful way. By telling the whole truth about our experiences, we can inspire each other to keep going, to keep pushing boundaries, and to keep believing in the value of our work—even when the results aren’t immediately visible or working out at planned.
Let’s change the way we think about science and academia.
Let’s make it a place where honesty, community, and well-being are just as important as publications and impact factors. Because at the end of the day, being a good scientist is about more than just the results—it’s about the journey toward truth, justice, and beauty (Zbaracki et al., 2021) that we should all be proud to share.
Reference
Zbaracki, M.J., Watkiss, L., McAlpine, C. and Barg, J. (2021), “Truth, Beauty, and Justice in Models of Social Action”, Beckman, C.M. (Ed.) Carnegie goes to California: Advancing and Celebrating the Work of James G. March (Research in the Sociology of Organizations, Vol. 76), Emerald Publishing Limited, Leeds, pp. 159-177.