People in their thirties are starting to put their life on hold

A survey of scientific postdocs in Germany and Austria, and how they are changing the lives of the couple and their three young children: Petra Hemnkov, 35, and the challenge of the postdoc life

Today, the couple are renting a flat in Hamburg, Germany, where Altinli researches mosquito-borne viruses as a postdoc at the Bernhard Nocht Institute for Tropical Medicine. Chevalier is finishing a postdoc at the University of Bonn, some 5 hours away by train, although he works remotely. Both still enjoy their science. But both are now 35, and after eight years of postdocs in three countries for Chevalier, the impermanence of their lives has begun to chafe.

Still, much more needs to be done to understand and meet postdocs’ needs. A survey done by Nature found that more than a quarter of the respondents knew about the difficulties in filling vacancies for the post-doc. When asked to select the likely reasons for this, 81% agreed with the option that ‘a lack of career stability is leading postdocs down other career paths’; 78% agreed that ‘graduate students are choosing more lucrative careers that bypass the postdoc route’. Only 1% of people thought a lack of skilled postgraduate students was to blame.

Part of the reason for the historical disregard of postdocs is that academic employment has been a buyer’s market: there are many more postdocs who want to stay in academia than available permanent positions. Nearly two-thirds of the survey respondents intended to continue their career in academia, even though the path from PhD qualification to professor is neither straightforward nor something that can be planned. How many will succeed will vary depending on disciplines and countries (some sources suggest fewer than 5% of PhD graduates end up in permanent academic positions, although others say it could be as high as 30%). Regardless, this means that although many of the postdocs surveyed by Nature will probably not fulfil their academic ambitions, they continue to harbour hopes.

Petra Hemnkov sees herself in NATURE’S DATA, she says. She has moved to Australia and later toDenmark for work, following her PhD which she did in the Czech Republic. This August, she started a three-year assistant professor position at Aarhus. Although she says it “looks fancier” than a postdoc, the chances of progressing to a permanent job are no greater. When the appointment ends, she will be 40.

The challenges are still there. They live in Leiden, and the hour-long commute to Kamp’s workplace in Rotterdam is not ideal because she has to cut her workdays short to pick up her daughter on time. But having found a coveted place at a childcare centre in Leiden trumps that. Even though moving to another country for work could be beneficial for her career, it is not something thatKamp will do if she is worried about losing her baby sitter. Since her daughter arrived, there are more happy people in her family.

Falling behind: postdocs in their thirties tire of putting life on hold. A conversation with Shehryar Khan

The institutions have not taken a break. Researchers at large employers have been listening to their needs and trying to find better ways to improve pay and working conditions. In December, a US National Institutes of Health working group will publish recommendations that will affect how the agency funds and manages postdocs.

Nature postdoc survey respondents in their thirties describe the uphill struggle to start a family. When necessary, the comments have been edited for clarity and length.

When work and life collide, something has to give. Shehryar Khan, a materials-science fellow at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, put off having children until after he got his PhD, despite the fact that he was through the postdoc phase. He and his wife have decided to hold off on starting a family until Khan’s fellowship ends in two years’ time. By then, he hopes to have found a position as a principal investigator (PI) back in Canada, where he did his PhD.

The only way that I can afford my child is if my spouse has a job that pays her what she’s worth. Male physicist is in the United States.

I was ineligible to use parental leave for any of the three children I adopted because of the regular renewal of my contracts. A female ecologist in the United States.

The salary is very low and we don’t have benefits such as paid vacation leave. Even as a Postdoc, there is no independence. If I get a grant, I can’t decide on the budget or project. — Female biomedical scientist, Mauritius

Being in science involves a lot of twists and turns. Success will never happen because of effort. Lucky people will get ahead.” — Male marine microbiologist and bioinformatician, Colombia

Source: Falling behind: postdocs in their thirties tire of putting life on hold

Putting life on hold: Postdocs tire of putting life on the line in their thirties, or how medical professionals feel about leaving the workforce

I can no longer afford child care because of my position, so I am thinking about leaving the workforce. I feel more isolated and marginalized as a woman of colour. — Female health-care researcher, United States

“My current university only allows two weeks of maternity leave. My state banned abortions in the weeks after the US Supreme Court’s overturn of the Wade decision. I was surprised at how anxiety affected my mental health. — Female physicist, United States

A PhD candidate in psychiatry at the University of the Netherlands welcomed her first child at the end of the year. Work used to be her biggest priority. Now her wife and daughter come first. Both Kamp and her wife can take paid parental leave because they are also a physician and a student at a rheumatologist school. Thanks to state subsidy, the cost comes to €1,000 (US$1,050) a month, a sum that won’t break the bank.

Source: Falling behind: postdocs in their thirties tire of putting life on hold

The Global Postdoctoral Workforce: Real or Virtual? Revisiting the Status and Career Options of Early-Carer Scientists

Chevalier says he was warned during his PhD that the academic job market would be tough. He is about to embark on another postdoc and Altinli is on the lookout for a permanent job. She doesn’t rule out an industry post. They have agreed that where they settle will be determined by which of them gets a permanent job first.

But Nature’s second global survey of the postdoctoral work force, explored in a series of Careers Features over the past three weeks, reveals signs that repeatedly highlighting problems is leading to action.

There are many reasons for this change. The plight of postdocs has begun to be looked at by funders and employers around the world. Rapidly rising living costs have left postdocs increasingly strapped for cash. In Canada and the United States, early-career researchers are getting organized and are taking industrial action to demand higher salaries (see Nature 621, 431–433; 2023).

In the wake of MeToo, Black Lives Matter and other global antidiscrimination movements, many universities have introduced policies to boost diversity and promote inclusion. The need for support of the well-being of academic employees was highlighted by the COvid-19 pandemic. According to a survey, more than half of physicists have considered leaving their job because of mental-health concerns. Mental-health first-aid schemes to support staff members have been introduced by some organizations.

But this mismatch between ambition and reality should not prevent universities treating postdocs better. The fact that researchers can stay with the same institution for decades should not mean they can’t change. Postdocs should still be valued as employees, and employers held accountable for their treatment.