For almost two decades, academic publishing was something I largely stepped away from. Not because I stopped being curious, and not because I stopped caring about psychology, but because life took me in directions that I could never have predicted.
So why, after such a long hiatus, am I trying to publish publicly again?
The simple answer is that I still have questions I want to explore.
The more complicated answer involves health, disappointment, curiosity, and a growing sense that some of the things I value most in research are becoming increasingly important.
A journey interrupted by health
The past two decades have included some significant personal challenges. Four episodes of severe depression, living with a rare blood disorder, and overcoming a rare and aggressive cancer have all shaped my relationship with research and academia.
Illness changes your perspective. It forces you to reconsider priorities, what matters, and how you want to spend the time you have available.
For a long period, survival, recovery, and simply getting through difficult periods were more important than adding publications to a CV or pursuing traditional academic milestones. Research became something I appreciated from a distance rather than something I actively participated in.
However, curiosity is difficult to extinguish.
Even when I was not publishing, I continued to think about psychology, research methods, education, and the questions that underpin human behaviour. The desire to understand never really disappeared.
A growing frustration with psychology research
One of the things that encouraged me to return to public research was not just personal recovery, but also a growing sense of frustration about the direction of psychology.
Over recent years, psychology has faced considerable challenges regarding the reliability and reproducibility of its findings. The so-called replicability crisis has raised important questions about how psychological research is conducted, analysed, published, and interpreted.
The issue is not that psychology is failing. Quite the opposite: psychology remains a fascinating and valuable discipline. However, the field has had to confront uncomfortable questions about publication bias, underpowered studies, questionable research practices, and the pressure to produce novel findings rather than robust ones.
Perhaps the most frustrating experience for me has been attempting to replicate some psychological studies and discovering just how difficult it can be to reproduce reported effects. When findings do not replicate, it raises important questions: Was the original effect smaller than expected? Were there hidden methodological differences? Were researchers unintentionally influenced by expectations or publication pressures?
These questions are not criticisms of individual researchers. They are questions about a system that often rewards quantity, novelty, and career advancement over patience, replication, and scientific curiosity.
Research should start with curiosity, not career strategy
Returning to research has also involved a conscious decision: I only want to investigate questions that genuinely interest me.
Academic careers often involve strategic decisions. Researchers are encouraged to follow funding priorities, publish in particular areas, build a reputation, and position themselves within established research communities.
There is nothing inherently wrong with ambition or career planning. Universities and researchers need funding, recognition, and progression. However, I have increasingly questioned whether curiosity should always be secondary to strategy.
What is the point of spending years researching a topic that does not genuinely spark interest?
Research is, at its heart, an attempt to understand something unknown. The best questions are often the ones that keep you awake, the ones that you continue thinking about long after the working day has ended.
For me, returning to research means exploring ideas because they matter, because they are interesting, and because they may contribute something useful — not simply because they represent the next logical step on a career ladder.
A different view of the purpose of universities
This also connects to a broader debate about the role of universities in society.
There is increasing emphasis on universities as engines of employability, preparing students for the workplace and ensuring graduates have the skills required by employers. Clearly, universities have an important role in helping students develop knowledge, confidence, and transferable skills.
However, I am not entirely comfortable with the idea that preparation for employment should become the primary purpose of higher education.
Universities have historically been places where people challenge assumptions, explore difficult questions, create knowledge, and pursue understanding for its own sake.
Education is not only about producing workers. It is also about developing thinkers.
Perhaps that is a discussion for another blog, but it is closely connected to why I am returning to research now. My motivation is not about rebuilding a traditional academic career. It is about contributing to conversations that I believe are important.
Returning with a different perspective
After nearly 20 years away from public academic publishing, I return with a different perspective.
I have experienced the challenges of illness, recovery, and uncertainty. I have seen changes in psychology as a discipline. I have become increasingly interested in questions about research quality, technology, education, and human cognition.
I also return with fewer concerns about following expected paths.
Sometimes stepping away from a system allows you to see it more clearly.
My aim is simple: to explore questions that interest me, to contribute thoughtfully, and to encourage discussion. If research is ultimately about curiosity and understanding, then perhaps there is no better reason to return than because there are still questions worth asking.