I have a complicated relationship with research. I deeply cherish the pursuit of knowledge, the rigor of the scientific method, and the personal growth that comes from following genuine curiosity. Yet over time, I've wrestled with a growing tension between hope and frustration: The hope that discoveries could truly change the world, and the frustration that structural barriers often prevent that from happening.
That tension has repeatedly pulled me away from research, only to draw me back again. I find it impossible to ignore a nagging feeling that scaling world-changing impact is within our grasp.
This post is an attempt to make sense of that feeling by tracing how it emerged, why it keeps resurfacing, and why I've become convinced that it points to something worth changing.
It Felt Like Research Could Change the World
My belief that research could change the world formed early. As a teenager, I had the chance to work in a laboratory. I wasn't just observing, but conducting real experiments. Knowledge, rigor, and curiosity became tools for doing something that mattered for the wider world.
That conviction carried me into formal training in health sciences and bioinformatics. At that stage, I held a simple assumption shared by many of us: if I focused on doing good science, impact would eventually follow.
My PhD complicated that belief. The research itself remained meaningful, but I began to see how fragile progress could be when early-career researchers depend so heavily on gatekeepers and opaque dynamics. I nearly quit twice in my final year, worn down by politics and a lack of meaningful support.
I was far from alone. Many PhD students around me were burning out, disengaging, or leaving altogether. It was often because of the environment surrounding them, not the science itself. That left me with an unsettling question many of us face:
How can a system dedicated to truth and discovery end up driving away so much talent?
It felt wrong.
Circling the Same Question From Different Angles
I stepped away from academia, unwilling to keep playing a game that no longer felt aligned with why I had entered research in the first place. But industry brought its own challenges. My background sat awkwardly between data science, software development, and neuroscience, while others outside academia had been honing narrower skill sets that were far better aligned with available roles.
Once again, I realized I wasn't alone. Many former academics around me struggled to find roles that truly matched their expertise. That raised another question many of us wrestle with:
Why aren't there better pathways for highly specialized researchers leaving academia?
I eventually found work building software in close collaboration with academic partners. But I was struck by how much the software world had changed while I was pursuing my master's and PhD. To regain my footing, I moved toward more familiar territory: developing applied tools within large collaborative research projects.
It was a relief to regain autonomy, creative freedom, and responsibility across entire project lifecycles. I loved research again, and I quickly caught up with modern software practices.
But over time, a familiar frustration returned. Despite good intentions and significant effort, tangible real-world outcomes were rare. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being productive without being consequential. That led to yet another question:
If research is so rich in insight and talent, why is scalable impact still so rare?
I felt an increasing urge to take responsibility. If I wanted a specific change, I might have to take more decisive steps to do it myself.
When Timing and Capacity Fell Out of Sync
Personal loss and practical constraints limited what I could take on. Instead of starting something of my own, I joined a startup. That year brought more personal challenges than I could have anticipated, and my performance suffered under the weight of circumstances.
Still, it brought clarity. What I wanted was to engage seriously with the questions that had followed me since my PhD:
What would it take to accelerate real-world research impact?
And could doing so create better opportunities for researchers beyond academia, without compromising scientific integrity?
Across all these roles, one idea had been quietly taking shape: that better coordination, clearer handoffs, and thoughtfully designed software could help research outcomes travel much further into the world. What's more, I started to see how much unused potential already lives in the documentation researchers produce, and how emerging tools could reduce the burden of turning that work into real-world impact.
For the first time, I could see a role for myself that truly matched my background and ambitions.
How a System That Once Worked Became Strained
The way research is organized today did not emerge by accident. Many of its norms, from incentive structures to publication practices, evolved in a context where they served science remarkably well. But the conditions that made them effective have changed.
The Commitment We've Already Made
As researchers, we are living a paradox: Most of us are already committed to impact. We write it into our grant proposals and describe it in our papers. But the system that constrains us celebrates potential as if it was synonymous with progress.
We are rewarded for telling compelling stories about how our work could change the world, but how often does our work reach its true potential?
Over time, that disconnect erodes not just our faith in the system, but our faith in ourselves.
Spicing Up Our Old Recipe for a New World
The research system we inherited was built for a different era, where discovery itself was the goal. Back then, publications, citations, and prestige were effective proxies for quality and influence. But the world has changed. Today, many of our most pressing challenges, like health crises and climate change, demand solutions that scale. And scaling requires validation, integration, regulatory approval, investment, and widespread adoption.
We already have great foundational ingredients: curiosity, rigor, creativity, and collaboration. We also have a sense of intention. What we're missing is a clear, practical path toward real-world application.
Translating research into impact often depends on capabilities and networks that many of us were never trained to build. But mastering these skills can unlock real benefits for researchers, including:
- Stronger grant applications: Many funding agencies require clear valorization or impact plans. A better grasp of how research leads to real-world change can strengthen proposals and increase chances of success.
- Access to new funding sources: Closer links to industry and public-private partnerships can open up additional avenues for support beyond traditional academic funding.
- More relevant and sustainable research: Engaging with real-world partners helps ensure research addresses genuine needs, increasing the likelihood of meaningful adoption.
- Expanded career opportunities: Whether inside academia or beyond, stronger valorization efforts create more pathways for researchers to apply their expertise in roles that value their skills and insights.
Admittedly, despite the benefits, mastering the required skills can feel daunting. But, today's technological landscape is well-primed to drastically reduce the friction in that process. This is a promising moment for us to build bridges that were previously missing.
A Pursuit for the Missing Ingredient
The challenges we face are real, and the path forward won't be effortless. But the landscape is shifting in ways that give me hope:
- Advances in technology and open science are making collaboration and coordination easier than ever.
- Increasing awareness about the limitations of traditional metrics is sparking conversations about how to better value impact.
- More funders, institutions, and researchers are experimenting with new models, whether that's integrating industry partnerships, designing better valorization pathways, or supporting alternative career trajectories.
Most importantly, I believe this shift is not at odds with what drew us to research in the first place. We don't have to abandon curiosity, rigor, or integrity. Instead, we can build on those strengths, adding new skills and connections that help our discoveries reach further and boost our careers.
For those of us who have wrestled with the frustration of seeing good work fall short of its potential, this is an invitation:
Let's lean into that nagging feeling that real impact is within our grasp. Let's explore, learn, and collaborate to turn more of our ideas into outcomes that matter, without losing ourselves along the way.
If this resonates with you, I'd love to connect and learn from your experience. Together, we can explore practical ways to lower barriers and help research make a bigger difference, while preserving the curiosity and rigor that brought us here.
The future of research, and the world that depends on it, is in our hands. Together, I'm convinced we can write the new recipe.