How to Pursue an Academic Career at a Research Institute
Data & Society researchers share their academic career paths
The idea of a career trajectory suggests that there is a path always already available to you to walk on while pursuing a career. By extension, it makes us believe that some people are better at finding their path than others and hence, are more “successful.” If we were to choose one thing for you to take away from this post, it would be that trajectories exist only in hindsight. You can tell a story of your journey; you can articulate clear connections between the decisions you made and where you are in the present in the context of your past. However, this does not mean that you cannot dream and hope for a future that you would like to reach. The future is amorphous; it takes shape as we figure our way into it.
…trajectories exist only in hindsight.
At Data & Society, we often receive requests for career advice. So, we invited members of our team to share their stories, and have prepared companion posts that engage with pursuing academic and practitioner careers, respectively. These posts capture different stories and vary in practicalities of the process of applying for jobs; but they share the concerns and strategies of pursuing a career more broadly. This post begins with a focus on academic careers but will go on to problematize that category itself in a variety of ways. It describes some of the common challenges of and strategies for deciding on a research-oriented career that, at times, may end up not being academic, per se.
Challenge #1: My degree does not “fit” with what I want to do.
Research interests can change quite significantly during the course of a degree. It can increasingly become difficult to reconcile coursework with what we wish to learn and engage with. When faced with the realization that the problems facing the world are often interdisciplinary, the disciplinary boundaries of a degree can feel constraining. Iretiolu Akinrinade captures this struggle poignantly:
Graduating from a psychology department as someone interested in understanding the role of media in psychology (and vice versa) was surprisingly difficult — not because of the coursework but because I somehow did not quite “fit.” At the undergraduate level, opportunities for research tend to be exclusively aligned with what professors do or the specific constraints of their assignments in courses they teach. After the first two years of figuring out how my psychology department intersected with media studies, it became clear that the intersection was not explored at my university. At some point, I was even referred to organizational behavior as a field that explores the intersection of media and psychology, but I ultimately decided against pursuing it. Over time, I became familiar with computational artists and creative technologists, who introduced me to New York University’s Integrated Design & Media (IDM) program. I ended up pursuing NYU-affiliated MicroMasters Program in Integrated Digital Media to understand if this was a better route for me. In the process, I have come to realize that I am interested in using technology to crowdsource knowledge with self-awareness, and that itself can be a form of art instead of thinking of the intersection of art and technology as demanding a physical/post-physical artifact in code, media, Machine Learning /AI.
It was in my last year of undergrad that I learned about Data & Society as an organization researching technology and society. During my time here I expect to find more direction about what programs might be best suited for me. I am currently deciding between public health and media and technology studies. What has really worked for me is identifying people and organizations that have similar missions or perspectives and following their work, joining their events, and learning from the discussions at such events.
— Health & Data Research Assistant Iretiolu Akinrinade
Fitting in is often a matter of finding the “right” company of people. At times it is a matter of looking beyond the cohort of your degree program. At other times, you may need to cast a wider net beyond your environment itself. The trick is to remember that what is “right” about your company is neither obvious nor permanent. The more conversations you have, the more diverse your interests become, which (in turn) changes who you interact with and what your “right” company looks like.
Challenge #2: I do not know what I want to do after I graduate.
Undergraduate degrees are designed to be broad in scope to allow for exploration and discovery of what you truly wish to do. In fact, the higher the academic degree you pursue, the narrower the scope of your specialization. While for some the decision of what to do next comes naturally or is deeply connected with their personal life, for a majority this decision is neither already available nor easy to make. As Joan Mukogosi puts it, this decision requires more experiments and openness to available opportunities.
For most of my time at college, like most undergraduate students, I had no clear idea of what I wanted to do after I graduated. I was getting a broad degree in international relations, but I was not excited by a career as a diplomat or at an NGO. I attempted to solve this issue by seeking out internships that were tangentially related to my interests in public service but made me explore a diverse array of industries. I hopped around public interest law firms, nonprofits, and local government, doing basic work related to development, outreach, and communications. To be frank, I hated most of these jobs, but at least I learned a lot about what I do not like! More importantly, I fostered lasting professional relationships that continue to uplift me in my career.
In my senior year I realized I was interested in studying the intersections between technology and society. I asked around to see if any faculty would help guide me down this new path. I quickly learned about Data & Society and set a goal to work here after I graduated. With this goal in mind, I looked for jobs that matched my interest in technology and identity; I used my diverse work experiences as an intern to market myself. This led me to research positions that were both challenging and interesting, while I continued soul-searching as an undergraduate student. I graduated with the timely intent to take a gap year and learn how to conduct academic research outside of a university setting. While I am not convinced that I want to fully pursue a career in academia, I know that I want to continue pursuing a career in research. At Data & Society, I get to explore my options and see what different paths to such a career might look like.
— Health & Data Research Assistant Joan Mukogosi
Joan’s strategy to overcome the challenge of figuring out what to do next after graduating was clarity in her intent to pursue an internship or a research position. While she initially pursued internships to figure out her interests more broadly, the research positions she pursued later were all oriented towards her goal of unpacking the relationship between technology and identity. While she specifically called out Data & Society as an organization that she wanted to work at after graduating, we have no doubt that she would have been successful at pursuing her research interests at any research-oriented organization.
Challenge #3: The opportunities available to pursue an academic career are severely limited.
A career in academia requires long time commitments. Most academic jobs require a PhD. At the minimum, a PhD usually takes about three-to-four years to receive; at the maximum, it can even go beyond eight-to-nine years. Despite such a long commitment of time, a PhD does not guarantee a stable academic job or financial security. Kinjal Dave turns this challenge into an opportunity to explore what you expect from life and how you approach failure:
Before Data & Society, I was aiming for a fellowship to fund my master’s education and work in a think tank. Over three years, I submitted unsuccessful applications to the Truman, Marshall, and Fulbright programs (I think twice for Fulbright). While I did not get any of these, some of my friends did. I also ended up snowballing to meet their friends. Through this network of alumni of such elite scholarship programs, I began to hear about opportunities and spaces I had not even heard of before. I learned about forms of funding, which would support people in non-traditional occupations (such as residencies and fellowships). Data & Society was one such space — a friend of mine and a former Data & Society fellow were in the same Fulbright cohort. My advice is to apply to the things you want because the processes themselves are instructive. They forced me to articulate what I was after, and preparing applications helped surface people and opportunities relevant to my goals. All failure is information.
At Data & Society, it was incredible to see a space where fellows and researchers integrated various forms of artistry, industry, and academe. What I learned quickly (most explicitly from Alex Rosenblat) is that a PhD is not necessary to be a researcher. She and others, through their example, taught me to pursue the work, not the job if that makes sense. Of course, there are limits to what is possible as we pursue what pays the bills — but foregrounding what work I wanted to do was crucial for me to sort out my next steps at every stage.
Being at Data & Society confirmed for me that I could do research for the rest of my life. I was afraid of getting jaded or burnt out. Instead, I learned that I loved all parts of the research process. What was most invaluable about my time at Data & Society was learning project management. Academia is full of folks who think that research is a lonely endeavor. They often operate in denial that all knowledge is produced within and with a community of knowledge workers who are differently positioned with respect to each other. At Data & Society, I learned to collaboratively pursue qualitative research.
Ultimately, I decided to get a PhD because I also enjoy teaching, want to become a professor, and do one thing for five years. I would not have pursued a PhD if I did not want an academic job, although I am incessantly told that there are no academic tenure track jobs available these days. Practically, I can make this choice because I am not expected to financially support other family members and am comfortable with a stipend lifestyle. The finances and teaching loads of PhD programs vary widely — without my specific offer, I may not be in grad school at all. Whether my next step is a postdoc or taking over the family liquor store, I am at peace with my choices and expect truly little.
Ask yourself: What is the work you could do even if it was invisible? Waiting for payoff can often take too long — which choice feels the most meaningful in relation to the quality of your life that follows from making it?
— Former Media Manipulation Research Analyst Kinjal Dave
A common take away from the different stories that Kinjal weaves together is to remember to ask for help. Whether it is in finding funding/career opportunities or exploring ways to collaborate over research projects, the first step to knowing more is to acknowledge that you will never know enough by yourself. Your chances for receiving help become greater when you approach someone you already know or is one degree removed from you, i.e., you have one common person in your network. Beyond such networks, it can be hard to secure support through cold contacts, but it does not mean that this method is doomed to fail. Cold contacts require a certain kind of tenacity in the face of the uncertainty of reaching out to people you do not know. Out of ten people, it is quite possible that only one may respond, but that one is still more than zero.
Challenge #4: I tried, but I got rejected.
Rejection and everything you do to deal with it is an inevitable part of life. There is no way of avoiding it. People who say that they have never been rejected have simply not tried enough. It is not the rejection itself that is worth our attention (I find it mundane and boring!), but rather the ways in which rejection creates the conditions for us to reflect and evolve in unique ways. How we respond to rejection revolves at times around what we learn from them and at other times around our situation. Either way, these responses deeply shape whether we decide to persist and the decisions we go on to make.
When I was pursuing my undergraduate degree in information and communication technology in India, I would not have believed that more than fifteen years down the line, I would be working at Data & Society. Like all budding IT engineers, I wanted to work at an IT company and be really good at coding. However, I met faculty members during my undergraduate days that shaped how I saw my future and got me more interested in pursuing an academic career in science and technology studies (STS). It is a relatively lesser-known academic discipline, particularly in India where I was trying to justify my seemingly “strange” life choices to my family and friends. I eventually ended up pursuing a masters and a PhD in STS in the Netherlands and the United States, respectively. Neither were these opportunities always already available, nor did they come by easily. It has always taken me two attempts to get to the places that I eventually ended up at. I have had to apply for undergraduate, graduate, and PhD programs for two years consecutively. The pattern continued as I started looking for job opportunities towards the end of my dissertation research. I cannot emphasize enough how critical the support of my family, friends, and mentors has been as I made these attempts. I have slowly come to believe that rejection is not an estimation of your ability to be successful in an academic program or a job. It is simply not the right time for you yet. Of course, waiting and applying twice is not really an option for many. I recognize the privilege that I have had to be able to wait, but I also see it as a reflection of the support I have received and my commitment to my hopes and dreams of a career.
— AI on the Ground Postdoctoral Scholar Ranjit Singh
We all eventually get a PhD in rejection one way or the other. The most important lesson of learning to live with rejections (they often come in batches and pile on each other) is to turn kindness into a habit when interacting not only with others, but also with your own self. Rejections can also be crucial pivot points when you make important decisions on what to do next. It is crucial that you make these decisions thoughtfully, with intent, and without anger.
Challenge #5: I do not know enough or do not have the right credentials to claim expertise.
The anxiety of performing expertise is an everyday part of academic life. One of my mentors once said to me, “You will not find a single first-year graduate student who has not dealt with imposter syndrome.” As Alexandra Mateescu narrates, this problem can become even more acute without institutional credentials and mentors who consistently tell you that they have been through the same process as you to be able to perform expertise.
The last time I was affiliated with a university was in 2013 when I had earned my master’s degree in Anthropology. Since then, I have been learning — in fits and starts and not always linearly — how to be a researcher outside of traditional academic trajectories. A university is not just a place; it is an institution that structures professionalization and inculcates norms and hierarchies that can be pretty confusing looking from the outside in. Once you are on the outside, it can feel very much like a door has closed on you. For many people, that door can feel bolted shut. After graduating with significant student loan debt and family members to support, I felt fairly lost as to how I could continue to do the kind of work that mattered to me if I could not work towards a PhD.
What Data & Society really introduced to me was a model of a public-facing scholar, one who could use research to move the needle in wider conversations. It also showed me the ways research could be a collaborative and collective project, both in means and ends. My academic training taught me to think of research as a very solitary, competitive, and territorial practice. At Data & Society, many of the projects I worked on were collaborations with activists, practitioners, and all-around insightful people. I had come in as an entry-level research assistant with strong convictions but not much of a roadmap; I slowly gravitated towards issues of surveillance and labor rights, and realized I wanted my research to be primarily in the service of translation and action.
There are many things I wish I had known earlier in my career. One of these was that I often wrongly talked myself out of speaking up or trying to enter into spaces of expertise because I felt insufficiently credentialed, no matter how thoroughly I had informed myself or felt secure in my convictions. Seeking out advice and mentorship often helped me connect to wider scholarly communities and to navigate institutional practices that otherwise felt opaque; I had to get over assuming my own inadequacy for not always already knowing how to do things like write a journal article.
— Labor Futures Researcher Alexandra Mateescu
No one knows how to write an academic paper unless they write it. Publishing a paper for the first time is the hardest; but like everything else, it gets easier with practice. Expertise is as much about showing that you know enough as it is about working to know enough. Even seasoned academics feel anxious; it is this anxiety that pushes them to excel in the first place.
These challenges may seem broad and generic, but we have all experienced all of them at some point in our lives. Our individual contexts will certainly differ, but how we engage with them mutually shapes the kind of academics we become. Beyond this broad list, we conclude with some practical advice on considering the following questions when you embark on the journey of crafting your statement of purpose for applying to academic programs (feel free to experiment with the order in which you answer these questions, but refrain from compromising readability):
- What do you want to do at the university that you are applying to? What program? If you want to work with specific faculty members, then do make a point to mention them and describe what inspires you about their work.
- What made you choose that university?
- How does this course fit into your scheme of things? What is your educational background? What is the kind of work that you have been doing? How does this program align with your background and the future that you have set for yourself?
- There should be something quirky about your statement, something that is uniquely you. It might come off from your interests or the kind of work that you have been doing. When talking about any project that you wish to highlight, always remember to articulate what excited you about pursuing that project. Why did you do it? What were you trying to accomplish? How did the project and your own understanding of the topic of research mutually shape each other? What did you learn from that experience?
- What do you wish to do while you are pursuing the program? What would be your field of research? Why did you choose that field of research? What excites you about it? How do you see it right now? Always leave scope for growth and evolution of your interests and commitments.
- What do you think the future holds for you as you complete this program?
Ranjit Singh is a Postdoctoral Scholar with the AI on the Ground initiative at Data & Society.
