Science communication, is it a career boost or just extra work?
As researchers, we often find ourselves deeply engrossed in our work, juggling countless responsibilities while striving to make meaningful contributions to our fields. Science communication may seem like an additional burden, but for those who take the time to engage with a wider audience, the rewards can be significant.
I see communication as an essential tool for learning. By sharing my thoughts and experiences – whether online or with those around me – I invite others to refine, challenge, or enhance my perspectives. As an individual, my viewpoint is inherently limited, and engaging in dialogue helps me gauge whether I’m on the right track.
I frequently write about my experiences as a researcher, shedding light on the challenges and, at times, the absurdities of academic life. There is a therapeutic aspect to receiving support from peers, but I also aim to offer solutions. When I identify issues, I don’t just want to vent – I want to explore possible remedies. Feedback from others helps me determine whether my concerns are widely shared, whether my proposed solutions are viable, or whether there are crucial factors I hadn’t considered. This exchange allows me to channel my energy into areas where I can create real impact.
It is fundamental – or not
Strictly speaking, science communication is not a mandatory part of a researcher’s job. However, it makes the job significantly easier. I would love to say it should be a fundamental component, but effective communication takes years to master.
Researchers are already managing a vast array of responsibilities. Beyond studying biology (or any given field), we must master complex machinery, software for both operation and data analysis, chemical properties, statistics, technical writing, data visualization, supervising students, interdisciplinary collaboration, and bureaucratic tasks such as writing reports, material transfer agreements, and innovation disclosures.
The sheer amount of “invisible work” required to reach the final goal – be it publishing research or, in translational fields, initiating clinical trials – is staggering. Communication is a professional skill in its own right, requiring years of dedicated practice. For researchers to take on yet another responsibility, there needs to be a clear purpose. Unfortunately, the current incentives are lacking. The prevailing argument is that scientists, as recipients of public funding, have an obligation to communicate their work. In theory, academic publications meet this requirement, but their technical jargon makes them inaccessible to the broader public.
My way to grow as professional
Despite the additional effort involved, I firmly believe that science communication is worth pursuing. As a mother of three and a business owner while I was completing my PhD, time was always a scarce resource. However, I have clear goals that make the effort worthwhile.
Communication is my method to grow as a professional, to network with individuals who can help advance my career, and to inspire young scientists – especially women who may feel they cannot have children during their PhD or who struggle to balance motherhood with a scientific career. As a side effect of these goals, I have honed my ability to write clearer scientific texts and stronger funding applications.
Engaging in communication has not only enriched my career but also allowed me to contribute to a more supportive and transparent research community. I don’t believe every scientist needs to be an exceptional communicator, but we should make the most of those who are. Peers with strong communication skills can help refine presentations or collaborate on more accessible versions of academic findings, such as blog posts. While not every researcher will prioritize communication, those who do may discover it to be one of the most valuable skills they develop.

Rita Turpin, PhD