Debunking the myth that researchers work 24/7

Working in academia is often portrayed as a calling:

“The ‘ideal worker’ in academia is someone who lives and breathes their work, is constantly available and willing to sacrifice everything else,” says researcher Julia Orupabo at the Institute for Social Research (ISF).

Together with her colleagues at ISF, she has written the article ‘(Un)divided work devotion?’ about how this so-called ideal worker norm shapes academia, and how Norwegian researchers actually navigate it.

“We want a more open conversation about what a research career costs, and to show that there are several ways to succeed,” says Orupabo, who is also a member of the Committee for Gender Balance and Diversity in Research (the KIF Committee).

A struggle for women?

International research, particularly from the US, has often pointed out that

• the ideal researcher is based on a traditionally male life pattern, which makes academia particularly demanding for women with caregiving duties
• women are more often assigned, or take on, ‘academic housework’ such as committee work and administrative tasks, which are time-consuming but don’t further their careers
• working in academia is demanding, often involving endless hours

In Norway, the framework conditions are different, according to Orupabo.

“We have a strong welfare state with parental leave schemes and access to childcare from an early age, and there is an expectation that both mum and dad should be involved parents. This makes it easier to combine work and family.”

The researchers interviewed 92 people with doctoral degrees about how the ideal worker norm plays out in Norway.

No clear gender differences

The material showed that the informants had very different approaches to the academic ideal.

However, the researchers found no clear gender differences in the types of strategies employed by the informants.

“What was clear, however, was that the type of position made a difference. In other words, whether you were a temporary employee or had a permanent position,” says Orupabo.

She believes that a permanent job provides more freedom to step back from the ideal of work as both a calling and a way of life.

“A common theme for many was the desire to live a full life that includes time outside of work, be it for family or hobbies.”

It’s easier for those with a permanent position, because the career consequences of such a choice are smaller, emphasises Orupabo.

“It could take longer to get promoted, but you won’t lose your job.”

When academia is a lifestyle

There were several – both women and men – who chose to ‘play the game’:

“They worked extremely hard, prioritised research above all else, and adapted their family and leisure time to their work, not the other way around,” says Orupabo.

One man from the science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM) disciplines said: “I realise that [academia] is a lifestyle. And it’s often those who recognise this and align their lives accordingly who tend to succeed. […] Family life has to be adapted to accommodate it.”

But this was the exception.

“Just a few of the people we spoke to played the game,” says Orupabo.

According to her, this could be a reflection of the type of researchers who chose to participate:

“The most career-minded may not want to set aside time to take part in research.”

Exit as a strategy

Some of the informants chose the opposite strategy: To leave academia.

“They wanted a more predictable life, which they found outside the research sector,” says Orupabo.

She goes on to say that they didn’t necessarily see this as a defeat. One of the people they interviewed was a young man in the humanities who was considering leaving: “I’m in a phase at the moment where having some kind of normality in my everyday life would be very valuable. I think about it a lot in my current job situation.”

“Did you see any patterns in terms of who wanted to leave academia, for example in terms of age, position or discipline?”

“In the data, it was especially those in temporary positions who left academia,” says Orupabo.

“But there were also examples of researchers in permanent positions who found it hard to combine mobility expectations with family life. In the STEM disciplines, international mobility requirements and expectations were flagged as key to landing a permanent job.”

One woman from the STEM disciplines said: “So I considered it very risky, and I wasn’t interested in sacrificing family life […] For me to pursue a research career, at any cost, at the expense of my family, I simply wasn’t willing to sacrifice that.”

Multiple roles can be a source of strength

Most of the informants favoured a kind of middle ground: They stayed in academia, but scaled back their expectations. Or they found meaning in having a good work-life balance.

One man from the STEM disciplines redefined success as follows: “I believe that I have succeeded. My wife has accomplished a lot more, if you think about what it means to be a top researcher, she’s much higher up the ladder than I am. But I think I’m just as happy to be where I am as she is. Even though I don’t publish in journals with a high impact factor, I more often see that what I do actually leads to something.”

Orupabo explains that for many researchers, success was about more than publishing in top journals. Teaching, supervision or contributing more directly to political processes was as important.

Some people cited multiple roles as a strength.

“Many people found that being a parent or spouse gave them a different perspective. For some, this made academic setbacks feel less devastating. If an academic article was rejected, their entire identity didn’t fall apart.”

“It is possible to resist”

Orupabo says that the study confirms that work-life balance seems unattainable for many people, including academics in Norway.

Nevertheless, she and her colleagues are keen to emphasise that it is possible to resist the pressure.

“Many of our informants, both women and men, didn’t want to go along with this ideal.”

“They insisted that it’s possible to be both ambitious and have caregiving duties, and that success in academia can mean more than just publishing as much as possible,” says Orupabo.

“Norwegian academia has become tougher”

Melina Duarte is Associate Professor of Ethics and head of the Institute of Philosophy and First Semester Studies, and a researcher at the Centre for Women’s and Gender Research at UiT The Arctic University of Norway. In 2023, she co-edited an anthology on gender equality in academia.

“Orupabo’s article shows how Norwegian academia has changed and become much tougher to navigate,” she writes in an email.

“I’ve always believed that one of Norwegian academia’s greatest assets has been the opportunity it offers to live a balanced life,” she adds.

According to Duarte, the article shows not only that the ideal of total work dedication challenges this balance, but also that the ability to achieve some kind of balance depends on academic position and employment relationship.

When this balance is disrupted, it becomes a problem, she believes:

“Not only for the welfare of academics, but also for the role of academia as an institution in society.”

Duarte believes that the strategies Orupabu describes show how researchers create narratives that hide the underlying, structural problems.

“Like when dropping out is portrayed as ‘your own choice’, even though in practice many ‘choices’ are imposed. Or that a distinguished career is explained by hard work and strategic decisions, even though luck and structural conditions play a key role.”

Value of academic housework

According to the philosopher, it is not enough for individuals to devise their own brilliant career strategies.

“What we know from research is that strategies that actually contribute to healthier working conditions are primarily about measures at management level,” she emphasises.

Duarte adds that the most successful steps managers can take are to challenge the very contradictions the article analyses, for example between career-enhancing and non-career-enhancing tasks.

A clear example here is salary negotiations, says Duarte, mentioning criteria such as being a good team player and development work.

“Many such tasks are often considered ‘non-career enhancing’. However, if what is deemed ‘academic housework’ is actually valued and rewarded, they become career-enhancing.”

The willingness to do academic housework can also be an important part of the assessment of ‘personal suitability’ in appointment processes, she says.

Another example is the appointment of research group leaders, according to Duarte.

“Instead of choosing someone purely on the basis of most publications, the manager could choose someone who also furthers the work of others.”

“Systematic choices like this strengthen collaboration, increase production at departmental level because more people contribute, and make diversity a resource,” she says.

Translated by Totaltekst.