Author: Erin Pallott // Editors: Luke Marshall, Sophie Alshukri

When I joined my PhD programme, I needed to figure out which lab I wanted to join. I got given lots of advice on what to ask other PhD and postdoc members, and a prominent suggestion was to find out what the lab environment is like.

So, I did ask, and everyone was so positive. They openly said they enjoyed their work and lab culture, and I knew I had my work cut out in choosing a base for my research project. But then the truth came out. In hushed conversations and private messages, I learned who doesn’t get on with who and which PIs demand constant output at the small price of your mental health. I realised people are too careful to make honest, negative comments in front of their team, even if they’re all thinking the same thing.

Over a Friday beer, debriefing about our week’s work, I overhear people describe how they were yelled at over a mistake, or belittled in a meeting. Everyone laughs it off: “It is what it is”. I wonder how we got to the point that an incident like this is a funny sidenote to someone’s week.

When serious conversations do come up and people find the courage to talk about their experiences with bullying or harassment, it seems to be quickly swept under the carpet. “We don’t want to ruin their opportunities”. I think, maybe that was their own choice to behave that way in the first place.

What is going on in academia?

Of course, discriminatory behaviour and bullying are not only found in my line of work but there has been a lot of research to show that we have a high prevalence in academia. A survey by Nature revealed that double the percentage of academics reported experiencing bullying, harassment, and discrimination compared to people working in industry. This isn’t to say industry research isn’t also rife with bullying, harassment, and prejudice, but academia has distinctive issues that will be the focus of this article.

What makes academia different? Well, in these institutions we have a unique hierarchical structure. Let’s start with the most basic structure of a lab group. You have the principal investigator (PI) overseeing the research. The lab group can be a mix of postdoctoral researchers, technicians, research assistants and PhD students (among other positions).

PIs become PIs generally because they’re good scientists and their reward is overseeing other people’s research. Progression into these positions is not as dependent on their leadership potential or management skills as you might see in other industries, and they might not receive any formal training at all. If the metric for promotion is so murky and depends more on scientific output, it leaves plenty of room for the mediocre to step on others to get there faster. If someone is a “good scientist, but…” and their actions impede and damage the work of others, then maybe they aren’t so great at their job.

Academia is also a very high-pressure environment (publish or perish), with restricted job security for many lab group members. It’s a constant cycle of racing to put out new publications, so the lab can apply for more funding to continue their output. Postdoctoral researchers are constantly being hired under ridiculously short-term contracts and often must move around the world to continue their research. This environment becomes a race of who is willing to put in the most hours, put out the most research, and be selected by the “best” journals, which impacts everyone’s well-being (and research quality, but that’s an entirely different topic).

Researchers have been deep-diving into exactly what these bullying behaviours are and who they come from. Notably, Dr Morteza Mahmoudi has dedicated an extraordinary amount of time and work to bringing academic bullying into the spotlight, and you will notice his name under many of the sources I discuss here. In 2021, he co-authored a study of 2006 participants to understand people’s experiences of bullying behaviours in academia.

What do we mean by bullying? The study starts by forming a definition of “sustained hostile behaviour” and covers many harmful behaviours. Examples include verbal abuse (belittlement, silent treatment, aggression), hindrance of careers (threats of dismissal, denying credit) and isolation from peers.

The results follow disappointing, but perhaps not surprising, trends. Bullying follows a top-down weighting, with PIs and leaders making use of the power imbalances to be the most likely perpetrators, and postgraduate students and postdocs were the most likely targets. International researchers were more likely to be targets of more severe bullying (such as threats over visa cancellation). The results were mixed on whether men or women reported being targets of certain bullying behaviours more often. This study doesn’t even touch on sexual harassment, abuse, and assault, which are also major issues in higher education that women and international scholars are disproportionately targets of.

Perpetrators are also more likely to be from higher-ranked institutions. While this study was largely based in the United States, this also rings true in the UK. Putting this together, it is clear that bullying is rife, and academics are successfully getting away with putting others down to secure more prestigious positions.

That leaves the question, what is with the lack of consequences?

Under-reported, Ignored, and covered up

There have been high-profile cases of academics being called out and losing their positions, such as a top empathy researcher, who gave public talks about kindness yet her own colleagues were terrified to come to work. Although it was eventually exposed, the bullying and harassment had been going on long before it became public knowledge.

Studies have shown that people are extremely reluctant to speak out about their experiences. Even in high-profile cases like the one I mentioned above, the lab members felt they had to remain anonymous, in fear of their words affecting future job opportunities. How deep must this run for people to be terrified that whistleblowing is a career-ender? Studies have also covered reporting: the vast majority of targets did not report the abusive behaviour. I think the biggest reason people don’t report their bullies is due to a fear of retaliation. No one wants to be the trouble maker.

Academia is all about connections. You could confide to your advisor over your supervisor’s behaviour, only to realise they have lunch every Thursday reminiscing about the postdoc they did together in the Netherlands in 2005. Things get back to people, especially with the lack of human resources for PhD students given our limbo status between students and staff. People have given testimonies that even using anonymous systems, word got back to their supervisors and only made matters worse.

Another major reason for a lack of reporting is it seems that nothing will come of it. People who do report bullying often find the outcomes unfair, or as if nothing happened as a result. In the UK, outcomes are masked by confidentiality laws; the outcome of such investigations is actually the property of the accused. So, people can receive disciplinary action without the target hearing about it, but this privacy of outcome leads to another widespread issue. The bullies can get new positions without their new employers having a clue about their past behaviour. Deemed “pass the harasser”, academic institutions will shunt their problematic researchers to another, in a motion that allows both parties to prevent damage to their reputation. They promise to keep their scathing secret by providing them a reference for another position if they leave quietly. The cycle continues. You can find named examples of this happening, but these are only the uncovered examples. The whole point is it happens without us knowing. 

We work in an environment where people are more afraid of what will happen to them if they speak up than abusers fear facing consequences for their actions.

Is there any progress?

There’s certainly a bigger spotlight on research culture, work-life balance and bullying in academia. At every level, I’m met with emails and statements of policies and promises to tackle bullying and promote a healthy relationship with work. However, there’s a misalliance between the intentions and follow-through. My postgrad researcher handbook tells me to take 8 weeks of holiday and spend several workdays developing additional skills. That’s a lovely suggestion, except for those who then get reprimanded by their supervisors for not taking the work seriously enough. They may get discouraged from or outright denied access to taking extra courses. My whole mission with this blog platform is to give people an opportunity to gain extra writing skills. “I’d love to write something, but my supervisor won’t let me” is something I’ve heard multiple times. It’s a bit of “I went without this, so should you” which I think is a common thing to hear from the generations above us both in and out of the workplace. Institutions need to actively empower their employees and students to recognise bullying and harassment and the avenues to report this behaviour should be so visible that everyone knows where they can go. Ignorance of bullying makes the entire institution complicit and inherently protects abusers.

There are ripples in several levels of academia, funding, scientific societies, and publishing suggesting a movement towards openness rather than secrecy. Some funders have also been adding research culture sections to grant proposals. PIs may need to describe how they plan to foster a culture of skill development and teamwork. (Is anyone going to check the words are made reality?) There’s also been progress in institutions making it their business to find out who the harassers and bullies are, and subsequently withdrawing funding and memberships. 

Speaking personally to people around my own institution, I can tell plenty of people do really care about making sure bad behaviour has consequences and have been involved in the process. However, as outlined in this article, policy alone doesn’t reduce instances. Everyone involved and witnessing bullying or harassment needs to be proactive. Conversations need to be elevated beyond breakroom whispers, whether it’s letting a target of bullying know you see them or demanding your institution follow through with their policies beyond tokenistic lip service. It’s still easier said than done to speak out. We will need continuous support from the people in comfortable positions to help us speak the uncomfortable truths.

What can I do?

Educating yourself on what constitutes bullying and harassment is essential to protect yourself and others. All the resources I have linked in this article have been eye-opening and I encourage readers to look through them. Some further advice from Dr Morteza Mahmoudi in this article is a great starting point. If you have been a target of academic bullying, firstly protect your health. You do not need to endure it, and you are not alone. Find support and people you can talk to (especially outside your workplace if you’re not ready to start official reporting).

If you are a witness of bullying, at the very least be a witness, not a bystander. If you’re not ready to raise the alarm, you can tell the target you have seen what’s happening. You can also be visible during these events, letting the perpetrators know there is an active witness. This can at least diffuse the immediate situation. You can also record what you have seen or heard and support a target with their report. The bottom line is, however, whether you witness or are a target, this does need to be taken down official avenues and reported.

The systems for reporting aren’t perfect. Speaking up is scary and can bring retaliation, but silence is not an option. Someone’s physical and mental health and livelihood are on the line.

Acknowledgements: Thank you to Dr Morteza Mahmoudi who kindly read my draft and gave some additional pointers. I was really inspired to write this by people who are purposefully making noise on this topic and facilitating open resources. The “Shitty Professors List” was particularly insightful as a starting point for this article.
I am so fortunate to be working with my supportive lab team and supervisors, and I wanted to use this place of security to speak out for the people who feel like they can’t.