Dear conservationist, obsession is rife in the science community- but letting go might save us.

Dear conservationist,

Often throughout my career, I have noticed how scientists and conservationists alike can fall into a life-consuming obsession with their work. I have had Lonely Conservationist blogs submitted, such as David’s, that detail what life is like from an obsessive perspective. I have worked for an obsessive boss, and read books from the perspective of many obsessive scientists who sacrifice their relationships, health, and well-being in pursuit of their work and knowledge.

Throughout my career, I have often thought that I may be inferior as a scientist or conservationist for not being all-consumed by my work. I thought that I may not be as dedicated or legitimate because I could switch off and indulge in my love of foreign supermarkets, reading fiction, or playing Lego computer games with my husband. That all changed when I worked for a man who hid himself away in his office at all times, neglecting his promises, family, and any semblance of who he was outside of his research. Seeing his wife need at least two bottles of wine on the table each night to get through, or his youngest child drive around on the ride-on-mower letting out one continuous harrowing scream for attention- I finally saw that obsession was nothing to be desired. It consumed people until they and their craft were one and the same- that’s all their world consists of.

If I were to wager a bet, it would be that we wouldn’t have even half of the world’s scientific knowledge without the obsessive and all-consuming thirst for knowledge. It’s hard to know how to balance the acknowledgement of this obsessive behaviour and the wonders of science it produces, with the ingrained expectation that you need to be all-consumed by science if you want to participate. I will never forget my animal behaviour lecturer in my undergraduate degree explain why she had a lul in publications to our class. Almost as if she was regretful of her maternity leave and the mark it made on her academic record. God forbid scientists take some time out to raise a family!

I have been contemplating this notion recently when trying to decide if I want to return to academia. A legitimate thought that I have been re-hashing is that I am not obsessive enough to take on a PhD. The fact that I have contemplated that I am not able to afford to live off the stipend, or that I may benefit from tackling my career in a way that better suits my mental well-being, suggests that I am not as consumed by the prospect of research that I may need to be. My logical brain knows that I have spoken to many people who have worked and researched in tandem or researched whilst giving birth and raising a child. There are ways to balance an academic life and a personal life if you so choose- but there is something that seems academically disingenuous about embarking into a new world of science and not letting it completely take over your life. Maybe it’s the pressure that the universities apply from the get-go.

At the moment, I am reading a book written by a very influential scientist in the forestry space in Canada. The way she is all consumed by her research had her living 9 hours away from her husband and two children during the week, having to make the long drive back every weekend. I have just got to the part of the story where her husband inevitably has had enough and they have decided to separate. I have seen this play out a few times in my career, with another boss of mine separating from his wife due to the strain of his obsession with work and how the stress and physical and emotional distance ate away at their relationship over time.

In my recent academic investigations, I have been repeatedly told by many universities that my 8-year-old honours grades will hinder my ability to be granted a scholarship. I have been told that my work in this space is not ethics-driven enough, I am not skilled enough at social science, and also not rooted enough in the hard sciences. If I want to get back into research, I should have published more papers to give me a better chance of returning. There has even been talk that I should have written a book that means something to the scientific community, instead of crafting something specifically to normalise and validate the experiences of my community. If this is my experience of the mere exploration of returning to research, I don’t think I am as committed as I need to be to get back into it or spend 4 years (at least) in this competitive environment.

I wonder if millennials and Gen Z have the capacity for obsession in the same way that scientists before us did. I have friends like me who have recently had to leave their jobs due to stress, I have other friends who are losing their hair and others who are being diagnosed with serious medical conditions far too young. I think about how perhaps the cost of living crisis dictates our abilities, decisions, and thoughts more than the economy would usually do. No longer is a clinical psychologist’s wage enough to raise a family and pay off a mortgage on its own, let alone a conservationist’s.

Climate change was potentially reversible when my parents were young, but now I have friends planning out their lives accounting for not being able to get home insurance in areas prone to natural disasters, or potentially needing to leave their careers to become full-time activists. This is all without mentioning the unstable and untrustworthy political climate occurring in many countries across the world. People are too consumed with fearing the loss of their rights or lives to obsess over work in the same ways that we once could. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe an all-consuming work obsession is exactly what is needed to distract ourselves from all of that. However, I for one am not willing to let work take away my relationships- the one thing left that many of us are clutching onto.

I don’t think it is constructive or fair to say that scientists need to let go of their obsessions, as obsessions are not something that comes with much choice or control by nature. However, I do think it’s problematic when a deeply obsessive and competitive professional scientific culture excludes casual participants- especially at a time when the world demands so much from us. I don’t understand why there needs to be a sector based on curiosity and investigation that is anything other than nourishing. It doesn’t make sense for women to apologise for taking maternity leave or for 8-year-old grades to be so important. It doesn’t make sense to run people into the ground with an onslaught of grant applications, teaching, research proposals, student mentoring, and publications to the extent that it negatively impacts the quality of a person’s life. Science is ultimately about discovery, and discovery is a magical phenomenon. Despite this, returning to a life of science feels deeply un-magical.

So I wanted to end this blog by giving representation to the un-obsessed scientists out there, those of us who chip away at our craft whilst maintaining aspects of our lives that are important to us. Here is to the individuals who study part-time and to the parents who research whilst they raise their children without shame (if that’s even possible). Here is to the citizen scientists who contribute important ecological findings for the pure fun of it, or selfishly, to track their own species lists. Here is to the individuals who research as a part of their jobs and switch off after 5 pm, and to volunteers working as a part of a research holiday. Finally, here is to all of the Indigenous peoples of the world who have always known so much, just not by recognition of the colonial records of Western scientists.

A lack of mental and physical well-being doesn’t make you a better scientist, or person for that matter, and letting go of the culture of perpetual obsession just might save our industry and the people in it. I believe there is value in all of the scientists I have mentioned in the previous paragraph, even if they come at the expense of a rapid succession of new scientific discoveries. What these individuals may lack in academic churn, they make up for in personal resilience, life experience, strong relationships, and sustained health. It just so happens that these are the exact qualities I am fighting for in conservationists – so returning to academia to pursue an avenue for improving the lives of conservationists seems like an oxymoron. In fighting for improved conditions for environmentalists, I will continue to try to do so in line with my values: bringing everyone along together, looking after ourselves and each other, and being valued for who we are and what we have to offer. If aligning myself with these values hinders my professional reputation, then unfortunately I don’t think I’m cut out for being professional.

Look after yourselves (please!),

Jessie