Getting Involved with Policy-making

Last week I presented evidence to the Commons’ Science and Technology’s Select Committee enquiry into Diversity and Inclusion in STEM. I don’t want to rehearse my arguments, which can be read in the transcript of the full morning’s session (or even watched), but to talk about other aspects of engaging with such enquiries. Suffice it to say that my impression was that this session was called to explore further the suggestion made in the committee’s previous session, that girls ‘just don’t like hard maths’ and so are put off doing Physics A Level. I think it would be true to say that none of the eight witnesses who spoke this week, including those coming from OFSTED and the Institute of Physics via a trio of school leads, had much to say in favour of that position.  It won’t surprise anyone that I likewise felt the problems in attracting girls into Physics lie quite elsewhere,

However, what I want to discuss here is the way a scientist might interact in general with policy-makers. The pandemic has, once again, shone light on the comparative lack of scientific expertise amongst MPs. Few of them have science degrees and it shows. Compare Angela Merkel’s explanations of the spread of a virus with remarks made by our Parliamentary leaders. One felt, as a former chemist, she knew what an exponential increase meant, for instance. It is, of course, not just the MPs themselves, but also those around them, be they SPADs or civil servants, who typically have not studied science to any high level. When I go to talk to student societies (at schools or in the university sector) I try to point out that there are fascinating careers in policy; studying science does not mean one necessarily has to become a scientist, but I do hope it means that the skills a science degree confers will be useful wherever a student ends up.

Looking later in a career, research scientists too have potentially so much to offer. To help researchers work out the routes by which they might do this, we (the Centre for Science and Policy (CSaP), the Bennett Institute of Public Policy through Diane Coyle and Churchill College) produced some online resources, outlining the different ways in which a scientist can bring their research to bear on political thinking. It’s not a topic that gets much air-time in formal structures, within my university at least. One might say surprisingly, given that this is certainly one of the ways to construct a REF impact case! For many of these academics, their research may have direct implications for policy decisions, as the pandemic has absolutely made clear. This has been a time when many scientists have found their voices through the media, as well as more formal structures. One of these – Professor Devi Sridhar, Professor of Global Health at the University of Edinburgh – will be my guest later this week for one of my public conversations here at Churchill College (there’s still time to sign up to attend, in person or online). She is someone who has had direct contact with the heart of the Scottish Government, talking regularly with Nicola Sturgeon, as she makes plain in her recent book, Preventable.

Formally, talking about girls and women and Physics is not part of my research career as a soft matter physicist, but I have spent a long time studying the issues, even if most of the ‘publishing’ has been on this blog or in other un-peer reviewed places. One could say this is a form of interdisciplinarity, since my experience as a research physicist is obviously relevant to my knowledge about the subject, but I am in no need of such a label since I’m not trying to obtain funding for the work. Nevertheless, trained as a physicist, I am capable of reading the literature and reading graphs, doing a little critical thinking and analysis and piecing ideas together.

In my reading, I was particularly struck by the graphs shown, from a paper in Science from a few years ago, that showed it wasn’t just Physics that had a hard time when it came to attracting young women into the subject, and the problem seems to be that people (parents, teachers, the media, students themselves?) associate brilliance with those subjects that are heavily male-dominated.

brilliance

Plots of percentage of women taking PhDs in US universities in different disciplines versus a measure of brilliance, taken from Expectations of brilliance underlie gender distributions across academic disciplines, by Sarah-Jane Leslie, Andrei Cimprian, Meredith Meyer and Edward Freeland.

Of course, many in the world believe that brilliance belongs to men. These graphs have overlapping authors with the group that highlighted that children as young as six or seven have already fallen into the trap of believing that about who ‘owns’ brilliance. Thus, before one introduces misogyny and hostility into the equation, there are cultural issues to overcome for young women wanting to pursue such subjects. Diane Coyle, who I mentioned above, has written at various times about the problems with the male-dominated world of Economics. In 2017 she highlighted misogyny in the discipline in the FT; in her recent book Cogs and Monsters, she discusses the dangers a lack of diversity – extending far beyond simply gender ­– has for decision-making in the sphere.

The Parliamentarians are right to worry about these issues. As Caroline Criado Perez has spelled out in her book Invisible Women and as the Gendered Innovations website makes clear, many bad policy decisions can be directly attributed to forgetting that essentially half the world’s population are women. In Physics, as in Economics and many other disciplines besides, the imbalance is damaging to individuals and to society.

So, I was pleased to be invited to present to the Select Committee regarding diversity in STEM, my first experience of such an undertaking. Having said that, it was a nerve-racking experience. As for any sort of interview, preparation is essential but, however carefully one mentally rehearses arguments in the small hours, the line of questioning may head off in a direction far from what was expected and throw one off balance. This time, that only happened a little. I took advice in advance from those who had participated in a range of Select Committee sessions, including for this particular inquiry, and appreciated other people’s willingness to be open. I was also struck by one of these colleagues who asked, after the event, how long it took me to ‘come down’ after the session. The rest of the day, I said, (my session was at 0930 in the morning), expecting to be derided for this feebleness. Oh yes, I was told, that was their experience too. It is good to remember that all of us can suffer from nerves and tension around a new experience, particularly when it feels – whether it is or isn’t in reality – very important. As I’ve said before about other experiences, however, nothing is ever wasted.

 

Posted in Science Culture, Women in Science | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Brilliance and Diversity

A couple of weeks ago I attended the annual conference of the Bennett Institute for Public Policy, and a fascinating day it was. Everyone in the hall seemed delighted to be back to meeting in person, but there were several hundred more apparently signed up online (I’ve no idea how many people actually turned up, since my experience over the past two years has been in general only about half the sign-ups actually turn up on the day). Fascinating though the day was, that isn’t really what I want to write about in any detail.

The format of the day was a series of panels of three, with a chair. The panels’ compositions were rich and varied so that the dialogue was stimulating and thought provoking, the drawback of this being there was little time for the questions from the audience to be addressed. I want to focus on the panel that was dealing with growth, the specific question being ‘What does ‘progress’ mean in today’s context and how can it be measured?’.  And my question to you, dear reader, is should one worry that the three panellists were all women? Just shortly before this panel started I’d been talking to another member of the audience who had been complaining about ‘manels’, panels only comprising men, at other conferences. To see three women – admittedly with a male chair – still feels unusual. Because it is rare it feels as if it ought to be a positive, but is it? I haven’t decided where I stand on this. On principle I feel we should aim for balance of some sort (and it is worth stressing, there were no male-only panels), but with four panels of three plus a chair for each, what is balance? Diversity of opinion is likely to lead to the best-rounded decisions.

What brought this fact into even sharper focus, was one of the questions. The women had set out their positions about how growth should be defined in ways that aren’t simply about GDP and standard metrics, with much emphasis on inclusion and making sure all voices are heard, be it Cumbrian sheep farmers (as described by Bryan Wynne in his book The Public Value of Science) or Indian women who lack land ownership but have a clear stake in how land is used. The question from the floor was, would the discussion and answers given have been different if three men had been on the panel? It was hard not to feel the answer would undoubtedly have been yes, things would have been different, the emphasis less about inclusion and perhaps more about expertise and economic measures. It was refreshing to have a very different viewpoint.

When have we reached the point when we don’t have to worry about gender composition? For a panel of 3, there are only 4 possible combinations of men and women, although this figure is doubled by considering which the chair is (and can be further nuanced by the involvement of those who don’t identify as either male or female). Of the other three panels that day, there were two that consisted of two women and one man plus a female chair, and one that consisted of two women and one man plus a male chair. Is that balance? It is after all a preponderance of female panellists, although perhaps offset by the fact that the keynote speaker was Patrick Vallance and his session of Q+A was chaired by the University’s VC, Stephen Toope.

The panels comprised people from many different disciplines representing a different sort of diversity, ranging from Engineering (Baroness Brown, aka Julia King) to Philosophy of Science (Anna Alexandrova), via the more obvious disciplines, including the Bennett Professor of Public Policy and co-director of the Bennett Institute Diane Coyle, who is an economist. It is interesting to note that Engineering (plus my own discipline of Physics), Philosophy and Economics are three of the most male-dominated academic disciplines there are, yet all three panellists I name are rather obviously not male. A refreshing change.

A 2015 study on the relationship between perceptions of the need for ‘brilliance’ to succeed in different disciplines and the percentage of women populating these fields showed a very strong inverse correlation. If brilliance was believed to be necessary, then the data showed that there were low percentages of women studying for PhDs in the subject.  In other words, Physics/Engineering, Philosophy and Economics are exactly the disciplines which have brilliance associated them in most people’s minds and relatively few women engaged in them. Two of the authors of this study went on to carry out a further study, this time on young children. In this case, substituting the word brilliance for ‘really, really smart’, it was shown that children as young as six thought, on average, boys were smarter than girls (something that was not true at the age of five). Offered a choice of games to play, by 6 or 7 girls tended to shy away from games they were told were for the smart.

Do you see a connection? The messages that young children receive are very influential in the choices they make later in life. If schools don’t counter stereotyping actively then what is there to push pack on these cultural messages? Headteachers (see my last post) need to be very conscious of this, not blithely assume children always make their choices free from external pressures, even if subliminal ones. I am glad to say I have been asked to present evidence to the Science and Technology Select Committee Inquiry on Diversity and Inclusion in STEM, so I hope to be able to tease out some of these important messages to counter the crude idea that girls simply don’t like hard maths or physics, and that that is natural.

Posted in Education, Equality | Tagged , , , | Comments Off on Brilliance and Diversity

Parliamentary Activity

This week has brought some curious interventions into the STEM landscape in Parliament. I will return shortly to the much-publicised, if seemingly ill-informed remarks about girls and Physics made by Katherine Birbalsingh – a headteacher and the Government’s social mobility commissioner – but let me start with a different story, also close to my heart. Ottoline Leyser was talking to the House of Lords Science and Technology Committee session on delivering a UK science and technology strategy in her capacity as CEO of UKRI (relevant section about 35 minutes into the evidence). She openly admitted that UKRI was (still) not really coping well with interdisciplinary work. As she put it

‘where I think we have not yet delivered is what I would call research that is so interdisciplinary that it has no home’.

Interdisciplinarity is something that the 2014 Nurse Review highlighted as a challenge that a new over-arching body (that body which subsequently came into being as UKRI) ought to be well-placed to resolve. In the so-called Strategic Prospectus of UKRI in 2018 (no longer apparently available on UKRI’s website, although I have a downloaded copy), the emphasis in this area was on the Strategic Priorities Fund (SPF), which has indeed put money towards a range of interdisciplinary initiatives, including my own research area of the Physics of Life. However, these are all specific, targeted calls under eight identified themes. This fund is not the place to go for blue skies interdisciplinary research in general. In the 2018 prospectus it was said that the Fund would

‘drive an increase in high-quality multi- and interdisciplinary research and innovation by encouraging and funding work in areas which previously may have struggled to find a home. It will ensure that good ideas are supported that might once have been more challenged by organisational boundaries. It will give pioneering research the space to develop, laying the foundations for future capability.’

That the SPF calls are instead highly targeted means this aspiration is not met. Instead, numerous applications will continue to fall down the cracks, as they have for many years and as I described a decade ago in the relatively early years of this blog. At that time I said ‘We should have a seamless funding landscape and we do not.’ Nor do we now, as Ottoline admitted in her testimony in the Lords.

It is a conversation I started having with funders more than 15 years ago and, despite many warm words directed towards inter- and multi-disciplinary research in many documents, things don’t seem to have moved particularly far forward. In the 2019 UKRI Delivery Plan, there was a promise to ‘Review our peer review mechanisms to best support multidisciplinary research’ , but I have seen no sign of such a review being set up in practice; maybe others have. One of the key problems for such research is the failure of referees to appreciate that originality and excellence do not have to reside in every single part of a proposal. For this reason, IDAP – the Interdisciplinary Advisory Panel for REF2021 which I chaired – stated clearly in its criteria that

‘the criteria [of originality and significance] do not need to be demonstrated across all of the constituent parts brought together in the work, but may be identified in one or more parts, or in their integration.’

Generations of referees often fail to appreciate this simple fact, based on my experience on grant-giving panels (although I hope the REF sub-panels have managed better). A review of peer-review for such grants is extremely overdue. I hope it is in Ottoline’s sights.

As for the second story, the recording and transcript of this can also be found on the web (at about 10.20), but Birbalsingh’s attitude towards girls and physics is so outdated and stereotyped, that when approached by the Guardian for a comment I described it as ‘terrifying’ in an off-the-cuff remark by phone. I’d have been much more guarded in an email, but I was in the coffee break at a conference and trying to battle with the absence of a reliable phone signal to make any contact at all.  Birbalsingh’s comments included:

‘From my own knowledge of these things, physics is not something that girls tend to fancy. They don’t want to do it. They don’t like it….

There is a lot of hard maths in there that I think that they would rather not do. That is not to say that there isn’t hard stuff to do in biology and chemistry—there is— but it is not mathematics’.

You can listen to the whole of her evidence on the recording, or read the transcript, if you think I might be unfairly picking out one small part, but you won’t find anything to counter that position in the rest of what she says. As a result I do find her attitude  ‘terrifying’, because it comes from someone who is meant to be a leader in the field. To hear such words spoken by a supposed expert really is deeply dispiriting, a view many other female scientists also expressed in the hours after her statement (see the full Guardian story here; there are other comments from experts on the Science Media Centre’s website).

Birbalsingh did not make her position any better when in her intended defence she subsequently tweeted that this was ‘my guess’ i.e. not based on evidence. Had she read the IOP’s 2012 report It’s Different for Girls, she might have had some evidence to the contrary to rely on. Interestingly, back when that report was released and I was asked to talk about it on Radio 4, I was faced with a different female headteacher (whose name I don’t recall) who tried out exactly the same line of ‘girls just don’t like physics’, a position I tried to debunk when I wrote about it at the time in the Guardian. I won’t repeat the arguments I made then but, ten years on, those arguments have stood the test of time. It is depressing that some people seem to want to believe that cultural expectations placed on young girls have no impact on their choices, that we are somehow hard-wired differently from birth from those systematising boys so that we are all empathetic and should stay as nurses or whatever.

We will never shift the dial on how many girls enter the Physical Sciences, Computing or Engineering as long as educational leaders (presumably primarily those, such as Birbalsingh, with arts and humanities backgrounds as opposed to first-hand experience of what STEM is all about) believe such inaccurate tropes without studying the evidence to the contrary, of which there is plenty. Much of it is summarised and the background given, for instance, in books by Cordelia Fine (Delusions of Gender and Testosterone Rex) and Gina Rippon (The Gendered Brain).  A school leader who discourages half the population from pursuing Mathematics or Physics is not doing the best they can for their pupils.

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Interdisciplinary Science, Science Culture, Science Funding, Women in Science | Tagged , , , | 6 Comments

The Human Face of the Carbon Queen

In my Twitter feed, there has been much publicity about the recent biography of US physicist and electrical engineer Millie Dresselhaus, Carbon Queen, by Maia Weinstock. Dresselhaus’ lifetime of research spanned over five decades, studying many different forms of carbon, from graphite to graphene via nanotubes. I never met Dresselhaus to my knowledge, though I find it hard to believe we didn’t attend one of the huge APS meetings at the same time, but I believe I once met Weinstock at a meeting held at the Royal Society (although that may be an inaccurate memory). The book is an interesting read, and very easy to get stuck into. But more than the style, there are the stories about the life this remarkable woman led at a time when women were considerably thinner on the ground in Physics/Electrical Engineering than they are now. For instance, she spent a year at Harvard taking science classes, because Radcliffe – where she was enrolled from 1952 – couldn’t provide any teaching in the sciences. Of this time, she said (all her quotes are taken from the book):

‘I felt a little odd because women were still very, very much in the minority, and in some classes I was the only one.’

Furthermore, women

‘had to take their exams together in the same room [i.e separately from the men] because their presence in a coed examination setting was thought too distracting for the men.’

Her PhD supervisor (at the University of Chicago) felt that women had no place in science and told Dresselhaus so, indicating he believed giving women fellowships or other recognition was simply a ‘waste of resources’. That attitude was probably not that unusual at the time, or indeed for many years thereafter, with Weinstock quoting a 1976 article on women in engineering (in Cosmopolitan) that claimed a department head had  said

‘a lot of the technical education we’re giving women today is going to be wasted. They’ll get married, have children, and their period of productivity won’t last more than a few years.’

Dresselhaus got married – to a fellow researcher in the same broad discipline, with whom she collaborated extensively  – and had four children. Her career spanned more than fifty years of research at the top of her field. Despite that prediction about women in general, she barely stopped working even when she gave birth, taking only a few days off in total around her four children.

In due course, Dresselhaus joined the MIT faculty, becoming a tenured professor in Electrical Engineering in 1968, the first woman to be appointed full professor in any of the engineering departments. (That fact doesn’t surprise me: when I interviewed, and was subsequently offered, a faculty position in Cornell’s Materials Science and Engineering Department in 1982, I would have become the first woman faculty in Engineering there had I gone. In the end, of course, I didn’t go back to Cornell, where I had held two postdoc positions, and I don’t know who did become that first woman there.) About her appointment she made a curious quote:

‘I had very low expectations for myself. It wasn’t until I became a full professor in the prestigious MIT electrical engineering department that I began to take my career seriously.’

Was this a case of impostor syndrome, or simply a lack of role models to lead her to think that she too, as a woman, could make a go of a career? (Clearly role models would have been in short supply, although future Nobel Prize winner Rosalyn Yalow had briefly taught her at college and given her much encouragement to persist, despite the difficulties for women at the time.)  It isn’t obvious to me which interpretation is right, but make a go of it she did, publishing numerous trail-blazing papers and winning honours and other accolades throughout her life.

In 1999 MIT produced a seminal and ground-breaking report: A Study of the Status of Women Faculty in Science at MIT (I’ve written about this report before, at the time its follow-up was published in 2011). This report was prompted by the findings of molecular biologist Nancy Hopkins, who explored gender differences in the allocation of various resources, as well as women’s personal experiences. When I read this report in 1999, I realised how much the situation described echoed my own experiences, although I had not internalised that there were systemic biases at play, as opposed to (or, at least, in addition to) my own failings. The abstract to the report explicitly stated

‘many tenured women faculty feel marginalized and excluded from a significant role in their departments. Marginalization increases as women progress through their careers at MIT.’

That second sentence is very important in my eyes. Life does not necessarily get easier as you progress, although the issues a woman faces may alter over time and undoubtedly some women do have an easier time, not least, because they are less likely to suffer from sexual harassment, as someone spelled out to me recently. It is clear from the book that Dresselhaus’s reaction to the report, at the time, was similar to mine; she wasn’t involved in the study itself, since she was in the Faculty of Engineering. It made her realise that the problems she encountered were not simply of her making. An MIT alumna described her reaction:

‘I saw her change her opinions as she began to recall incidents…that she’d previously managed to ignore. I think that sort of blindness had served a useful purpose for her in the first part of that career.’

It stimulated her to recognize that she had a role to play in supporting the women around her, and that she did for the rest of her life. Weinstock’s book makes clear just how much she did to encourage, mentor and sponsor younger women whose paths crossed hers, whether or not there was any formal connection. Not only with a wonderful reputation in research and teaching, she mentored many women on to success, as well as acting as an incredibly visible role model.  She seems to have run her research group rather like an extended family, with many social occasions to help her students along.

Those generations of women who came after her in Physics/Engineering owe her a huge debt, because she was so visible, so determined and so helpful. If you want to know more, I recommend this book.

 

Posted in Research, Women in Science | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Indications of Direction of Travel at UKRI

I have been reading the recent publication from UKRI, their strategy document for the next five years. In UKRI’s relatively brief history, this is the first such document it has produced, because it is only now that they have any certainty over their funding for more than a few months: the Spending Review provides them with assurance for three years. The publication is a high-level document and will need to be complemented by a delivery plan. I always get worried when I read documents that state ‘we will [do something fundamentally important]..…’ without clarity over how any of their undoubtedly laudable aims will be translated into practice, but we have to be patient in this case. I am led to believe such a delivery plan will follow in due course, to put flesh on the bones of the aspirations. Thus, in what follows I do absolutely understand the mechanics of making things happen have not been, and in many instances cannot yet be, spelled out, as I raise my questionmarks.

Having known Ottoline Leyser, the current CEO, from before her arrival in Cambridge back in 2010, I know how strongly she believes in diversity and the importance of everyone in a team. In an interview included in the book The Meaning of Success, published (free online) for the University of Cambridge, she said back in 2014:

‘The current system favours the individual agenda, so you wind up with people with big grants and fancy publications, who can be doing very little for the system as a whole.’

She is now in an excellent position to do something about it, by influencing the incentives academia operates under. The incentives which drive processes in every university, too often leading to rewards for those very people with ‘big grants and fancy publications’. Rewards at the expense of those who mentor, do the pastoral legwork, take on the least popular teaching courses and serve on committees, even those which aren’t about allocations of money or space (typically more popular than health and safety, or staff consultative committees), not to mention all those people on the teams who work with the PI with the big grant. We need to see the delivery plan to know how UKRI can start to influence the UK academic culture in the direction she has always wanted.

There are some interesting comments about excellence in the Strategy document, that word whose precise definition is so elusive. Words which tie into the importance of an entire team, not just that bigwig at the top, such as

‘We must escape the constraints of narrow definitions of excellence and excessive focus on the performance of individuals to harness the power of diverse collaborative teams.’

Translating such worthy words into the way a grant-giving panel makes its decisions will be no trivial matter.  How will their standard mental scoresheets be uprooted to encompass a broader definition of excellence? I look forward to seeing what steps are laid out in the delivery plan to achieve this.

There is surprisingly little said in the document about early career researchers and how to resolve the long-standing issues around precarity. I found two mentions of both, with precarity explicitly tied in with the challenges for early career researchers, the first appearance of which says:

‘The career paths people can take through the system are restricted, resulting in precarity, particularly at early career stages, and creating silos between sectors, roles and disciplines.’

These words echo those in last summer’s R&D People and Culture White Paper:

‘we will look to understand and address the impacts of short-term contracts, which particularly impact on the careers and progression of women and those from disadvantaged backgrounds in research.’

Understanding, consultation, are all very well, although I’d have thought there would already be plenty of evidence to inform UKRI. However, what is not spelled out – in either document – is what can be done about the problem. To remove short-term contracts would require a major shake-up on the part of funders such as UKRI, as well as within universities. This is no trivial task, essentially requiring a change to the whole current academic ecosystem (and not just in the UK). When I was first appointed a lecturer at the ripe old age of 32, that was quite old to achieve that status. No more; it would be average-to-young I’d guess. Desirable though such changes to early career trajectories may be, it is not simply going to be a quick tweak and all will be well.

One of the major challenges in this space is the shape of the academic pyramid. As long as a PI trains, say, twenty PhD students over their career (the relevant number will tend to be discipline-dependent), given there is only one of them, unless there is a sudden vast expansion of permanent positions, nineteen of them will not have a position to slot into. Hence many of the nineteen who don’t replace the one at the top when they eventually retire, will feel cheated. Some may always have wanted a career outside academia and be perfectly content. Some may not have anticipated that outcome but also be content when they join a consultancy, a think tank, the civil service, train as a teacher or enter an industrial lab – there are after all plenty of highly desirable and important jobs that don’t involve becoming your boss’s clone. But some will be left struggling through that precarious postdoc experience on a succession of short-term contracts, feeling cheated and increasingly bitter. However, as things stand, that has to be the reality given the structures we have in place. (This has been analysed quite recently in a more scholarly way for US data, but the conclusion is obvious).

Another strand of thinking, more prominent in Ottoline’s words since her appointment and indeed in the People and Culture document than in the recent UKRI Strategy, is the idea of porosity between sectors: that people may move to and fro between different sectors over their lifetimes. The most obvious example (in STEM at least) would be to move between academia and industry, maybe several times during a career. Currently that is a real challenge, since determining the ‘excellence’ of someone who has worked in industry as part of a team and not had the opportunity to publish a stream of first author (or, indeed, last author) papers, for instance, may not be recognized as having an adequately superlative track record by any grant-awarding panel when that person attempts to move back into academia and secure funding.

Even sticking within these quite narrow themes of diversity and excellence, there are many other points I could have made. For instance, UKRI’s diversity statistics do not currently make pretty reading, particularly when it comes to black scientists. What concrete steps are going to be taken to overcome this apparent significant bias against such researchers? If you want to know more about these problems, I’d recommend following @TIGERinSTEM and @profRachelGaN (Rachel Oliver) on Twitter, who are fantastic at keeping this topic in the public eye, and who recently spoke to the Commons’ Science and Technology Select Committee about the issues. Then when it comes to bullying, another of Ottoline’s bêtes noires, I’m afraid the Twitter feed of UKRI’s chosen service for reporting outcomes and impact,  ResearchFish has rather blotted the copybook, with the hostile, indeed somewhat threatening tweets they sent out last week:

“We understand that you’re not keen on reporting on your funding through Researchfish but this seems quite harsh and inappropriate. We have shared our concerns with your funder.”

In summary, there are major challenges to address if the desired outcomes laid out in the Strategy are successfully to come to fruition, but even modest steps in any of these directions might lead to a more healthy work environment for many. I look forward to seeing these.

 

 

 

Posted in Science Culture | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on Indications of Direction of Travel at UKRI