Thrashing in the Net

"Observations of the Owl" - The Owl reports a true story indicating that research networks sometimes trample on talent rather than create synergy.

Forget what I have written previously in this column about community-loving owls. It was a joke. We owls are definitely loners. I admit that it's not always fun doing everything on your own, though. So from time to time we seek out company to exchange stories and experiences, or just to have fun. However, after a while we have always had enough. We all say goodbye and go our own separate ways, back to our own separate business.

No, we owls are not really made for working in big teams or networks. Owls perform best when tackling things alone.

Scientists seem to be quite similar. At least, the classic cliché of a scientist has for a long time been that of a loner. And I have met many who fit the stereotype.

However, in recent years more and more questions have turned out to be solvable only by interdisciplinary efforts. So what happened? Ever more and ever bigger interdisciplinary networks were set up.

This is fine where there is no choice. You define a problem, find out that you need expertise from several disciplines and create a research network to combine all the necessary expert teams. However, you go into this with your eyes open. You accepted from the outset that you would be obliged to sit in network meetings twice a month where one person does the talking and the others are forced either to listen or to sleep. And you also accept that it is necessary to spend umpteen days a month writing reports, applications and other administrative documents for the network. "I'm doing this for the benefit of the whole project" is your new mantra. (You don't have to tell me that you would rather be in your lab doing real experiments. That's why you wanted to become a scientist, after all.)

This is, though, not the only way that research networks come into being these days. Politicians soon realized that networks provide an elegant, efficient and publicity-aware means of directing research policy. So what happened? They created what I like to call "forced networks", one after the other. Network-mania took hold.

The problem with this kind of research network is that most of them are no longer focussed on specific scientific questions, since they were created to encompass whole fields of research (for example cancer, diabetes or marine biotech) in a very ill defined way. Thus, even researchers who were only peripherally concerned with the "big topics" are suddenly forced to become "networkers", despite having entirely different interests. I realized how this could happen, and where it could lead, during a phone conversation with an old friend of mine who, at the time, had a very small but admirably productive group. The conversation went as follows:

"Any new results?"

"No, things have barely been moving for quite some time."

"Why?"

"No time to do experiments. Have to write mammoth applications."

"Pardon?"

"One for that big rheumatoid arthritis network the government announced. And another one for a similar European network."

"Sounds very medical. You're still a cell biologist, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course I am. But over the last couple of years I've been trying to establish special cell and tissue cultures which could be used to study rheumatoid arthritis."

"And that's why you fit into the networks?"

"I don't think so. But I have to apply in any case."

"Why?"

"Well, you know the rules of the game. If I try to apply for cash on my own they'd just say 'there are two big networks with money for this field. You need to apply to them and not here'. So applying for network money is my only option."

"Hmm. I see what you mean."

"The worst thing is that these network application forms are absolutely monstrous. It takes you weeks and weeks to get your application filled in - all time when you can do practically no experiments. You know, I'm still doing a lot of practical work myself. Meanwhile, my competitors are snapping at my heels. The situation's got 'career nosedive' written all over it."

"Yeah. Not good. Looks like you'll soon be having a lot more to do with medical researchers."

"Yes, and I'm already sure I'll hate it. It's just not my world."

"Yes. I know." was all I could reply.

He was beyond a doubt an excellent researcher. He wasn't even a true, teamwork-phobic loner. He was, however, one of those scientists that function at their most brilliant when allowed to think and work completely on their own. He was certainly no networker. So it was sad to see his research begin to splutter from that "network episode". He finally ended up at a small technical college.

So much for the synergy that research networks create.