Day of Women and Girls in Science: Both Lucky and Fortunate

If I had a penny for every time I’ve been told “you’re so lucky” over the course of my scientific career, by now I would have a couple of jars filled with coins. Most of the time, when someone uses this expression, they are referring to the difficulties of a scientific career: the long journey, the precarious employment, the complicated human relationships, the resilience we must develop after hearing over and over: “Your work is very good, but unfortunately...” (Translation: your project will not be funded, or your article will not be published, or you have not been selected for the position.) Luck, in this sense, refers to the fact that she who achieves her goal seems to be a rare person indeed.

This is true, but there is certainly room for optimism. Female researchers accounted for 40% of the total number of people working in R&D-related activities in Spain in 2019. According to the report cited above, women accounted for 53% of PhD holders (or equivalent) in Spain in 2018⁠—above the average for the European Union as a whole. Although some fields are male-dominated, the proportion of women in the medical sciences is high. However, the gender gap flips as you move higher up the career ladder: at the research professor and full professor levels, the proportion of women stands at around 25%.

If I had a penny for every time I’ve been told “you’re so lucky” over the course of my scientific career, by now I would have a couple of jars filled with coins

A professional career is hard. It takes hard work and lifelong learning to master not only field-specific knowledge but also the recruitment and promotion processes. There is a great deal more we must do to make science much more attractive and ensure that men and women can reach the position of their dreams without so many difficulties, leaving more room for the research itself, as opposed to the circumstances in which the work is evaluated. However, because this post is pegged to the International Day of Women and Girls in Science (11 February), I want to strike a positive, celebratory tone and send a direct message to all the girls and boys who are busy deciding what they want to do when they grow up.

Gemma Moncunill, researcher at ISGlobal, at the Immunology lab

So yes, luck also means something else: good fortune. We researchers are fortunate because we do exciting and useful work. Even the most routine work has a goal: making your findings known so that they can be used to improve people’s lives. This may not be a direct result of your work⁠—it takes time for other researchers to process the ideas you have helped to formulate and ultimately render them useful. When that happens, you feel the satisfaction of achieving your goal and are transported to a special place you have built through sheer determination. In short, you feel fortunate. It is exciting work.

A professional career is hard. It takes hard work and lifelong learning to master not only field-specific knowledge but also the recruitment and promotion processes.

It is exciting to discover new findings and see this knowledge lead to a solution. This is what happened to the biochemist Katalin Karikó (Szolnok, Hungary, 1955). Her biography echoes the story of so many other women who have worked in science. Born to a small-town family of modest means, she studied, earned a PhD, travelled abroad to continue her training, and took a research position that allowed her to specialise. At that time, her line of research was not a priority. She had to cultivate a great deal of resilience. According to one website, her “requests for funding were turned down for more than ten years”. Together with a colleague, she patented the system for producing the modified RNA that has been fundamental in synthesising vaccines against SARS-CoV-2, the virus that caused the COVID-19 pandemic. She and her colleague are now strong contenders for the Nobel Prize. Whether they ultimately receive the award or not, the importance of their work—the sheer value of their findings—must surely fill them with pride and satisfaction.

Many of us researchers will not be shouting eureka anytime soon, but that does not make our work any less satisfying. There are intermediate processes that are just as fulfilling: imagining solutions to a problem, discussing them with your team, travelling to get opinions from other researchers, reaching a point at which you are fully confident that you are going in the right direction to solve a problem, whether it be a disease, poverty or inequality. What is it that you do not like? What would you like to change? Your daily work can help bring about a solution.

I encourage you to participate in the events marking 11 February, especially the one organised by Women in Global Health Spain in collaboration with ISGlobal and CIPF:

What Is the Everyday Life of a Female Scientist Like? Everything You Always Wanted to Know and Finally Dared to Ask

11 February, 4.30 pm

Information and registration here

(The event will be in Spanish)