Impact factor. The power of this term is unparalleled in academia. The word “impact” by itself is already so profoundly heavy. And second in line to it, would be tenure.

I was recently at a conference – the friends-and-family kind. International, sure, but mostly populated by academically 'related' researchers. A chance to get all together, talk about new projects, showcase current research, see if there is a possibility for interesting collaborations. A nice sense of community, lighthearted and caring.  This conference also had a student track.

At times, critique could be mistaken as criticism, even though it’s not meant to be. Still, even critique is difficult to deal with.  With time, I learned to ask “W hat is the intention behind this comment? ” to avoid unnecessary arguments.  I don’t guarantee that it always works.

Citations are crucial to academia. For me, they’re the literal way of saying, “I stand on the shoulders of giants.” They allow us to build on existing knowledge, floor by floor, forming an ever-growing tower. As a PhD student, I’ve just begun laying my own bricks in this structure. So when my work got cited for the first time, I was thrilled.

Last Friday, thousands of scientists protested against US government cuts on research funding with the Stand up for Science movement.  There were more than 30 demonstrations all over the US, and a handful in other countries (several of them taking place in France). So, what does it mean to “Stand up for Science”?

Publishing Open Access (OA) has always been something important to me. It stems from my utopian belief that science should be for everyone and that the funders (taxpayers) should have access to it. Most of my publications are Open Access, something I was somewhat proud of as a novice researcher.

If you are reading this, you have definitely heard of “Publish or Perish” culture. With the advent of predatory journals and journal hijacking scams, this saying has been modified to “Publish high-impact or Perish” in the last decade. There came a point in my career, around the fourth year of my postdoc, when a PI (whom I respect profoundly) told me that I needed a paper.  “Any paper.”

Some time ago, at a friend’s party, a conversation came up about the peer-reviewing process. I know what you might be thinking, my dear reader. “Wow, this guy must be fun at parties”. But really, I am. I promise I was not enforcing an academic topic on a non-academic audience. I think… Crap, now I’m not sure. This friend of mine – it is important to mention – is not an academic.

Something I never even questioned when starting my PhD has now become a daily struggle in my mind.  When I first contributed to a scientific article in 2012, I remember that picking the name I will use as an author was a substantial decision (“Do I add my middle name?...”). After all, I did not want to be confused with another scientist later on during my career (yes, I am now aware of ORCID).  Sounds like an unimportant decision.