Career column from the “Nachrichten aus der Chemie”

Philipp Gramlich and Karin Bodewits are the founders of Natural Science Careers – a company providing career advice and soft-skills seminars for natural scientists. For Nachrichten aus der Chemie they both write about observations from their consultancy work.

I had been in my postdoc for a year and a half when I realised: we were at a dead end. We wanted to create a molecular machine, a supramolecular system that would carry out a synthesis itself. Yet even smaller test systems already required 15 to 20 preparative steps. And as soon as we had gathered enough material for testing, the disappointment was considerable – the molecular machine did not work.

I had the feeling that something fundamental needed to change. So I went home and thought, read and continued thinking. After three days away from the laboratory, I found two papers in journals that would not normally have interested me. They showed me that our machine was running in the wrong direction! This resulted in a labile intermediate in the reaction sequence. We simply had to design the machine to run in the opposite direction.

If my supervisor had been a micromanager, this insight would have taken longer to emerge. But my supervisor trusted his team and therefore did not force us to come into the laboratory every day. That was the decisive factor in the project’s success. I would not have found the peace and quiet at the institute to spend several days immersed in articles that were sometimes rather far-fetched.

Employers can draw the following conclusion from this episode: trust your employees, and do not establish a culture of compulsory attendance in the first place. If there is a specific reason why the work can only be done in person, then so be it. If you require attendance simply because that is how things have always been done, why not conduct an experiment: can it work without backsides on chairs? You will then have to measure work outcomes rather than attendance. That is more difficult, but it also brings greater benefits for everyone.

Employees can ask themselves whether their presence is genuinely expected or whether they are imposing it on themselves. Particularly in academic research – where it takes a long time for achievements to become measurable – researchers often put themselves under pressure to demonstrate their commitment through long working hours. When choosing an employer, you can use a culture of compulsory attendance as a selection criterion – fortunately, word gets around about such things. If you already have a job, negotiate your freedom and flexibility during your annual review. It is often a win-win situation when you are able to work freely and creatively.

Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers

Guides on the subject of “You and your Career” almost always contain the reflexive advice “Be yourself”. But is that actually true?

Let’s start with a situation in which we are generally hardly authentic at all: the job interview. Imagine that you represent the employer and are currently at a low point in terms of motivation because of some interpersonal disputes in your organisation. If the candidate asks about the working atmosphere in the company during the interview, you would most probably not address your own problems, but describe the employer in general terms. It is therefore a normal part of such an interview that you present yourself from a particular angle: as a highly focused, tactically minded, professional version of yourself. Everyone involved knows the rules of the game and will assess your behaviour in this context.

This professional mask only becomes a problem if you pretend to be someone you are not. As a candidate, the hiring manager would probably notice. And if you were successful, you might receive an offer for a position that does not suit you.

In everyday working life, it would be impossible or at least unhealthy to have to wear a mask permanently. You should find a position where that is unnecessary. Nevertheless, you have a certain role to fulfil – as in every other situation in your life. As the father of my children, I behave differently than in the role of a son, passenger, first aider or employee. That is not unnatural, but a perfectly normal adaptation to the circumstances in question. When I am asked in workshops how to find a position in which one can be 100 per cent authentic, I like to say: “If you behaved completely authentically, you would not even turn up for the job interview, because that takes an effort.”

If your work suits you, in most situations you will not even notice that you are adopting a particular role. However, if you constantly feel that you are being watched or unable to be yourself, that can certainly be a warning sign. Can you talk to your boss or a trusted colleague and reflect on your thoughts? Perhaps you are perceiving expectations of you that do not actually exist? Or are you with an employer or in a position that does not suit you? Then take your gut feeling seriously and explore where you can be more yourself.

Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers

In 2005, I was considering doing my diploma thesis with the newly appointed professor at our institute – when I told Jan, my placement supervisor, he responded with disdain. “Right, so after a few standard syntheses, you’ll put everything into the DNA synthesiser and get a few milligrams of DNA out. And then what?”, the experienced doctoral researcher murmured. I countered that there were exciting interdisciplinary questions that the newly minted Leibniz awardee would address with the small quantities of DNA. That was true, Jan replied, and “with that, the new professor can write great papers. But what does that do for your career?” Surely the key unique selling point of chemists was that no one else could make and characterise molecules and other chemical substances.

Fast-forward to the present. For a long time, there was speculation about how artificial intelligence (AI) would change our working lives – for the past three years, ChatGPT and the like have been showing us the reality. These models can now do almost everything that is easy to parameterise much better than the smartest and most experienced people. In the age of AI, the question arises: Is our unique selling point as chemists still unique? After all, chemical bonds and reactions can be parameterised extremely well.

Surprisingly, more bankers were employed after the introduction of cash machines: not to count money, but to provide advice. A similar enhancement of our human labour can also be seen now. “ChatGPT saves me so much time,” a friend who works as a doctor tells me. Determining interactions between medicines was a real time drain for her, and AI can help with this. As in many other professions, AI can create time. This has a positive impact on profitability and patient care.

The old wisdom was that high-tech and high-touch professions – that is, those involving intensive human contact – are difficult to replace. Chemists remain valuable in the high-tech field, as chemistry is so central among all the scientific disciplines that it can be used to build many bridges and develop new ideas. Chemists who deal directly with people in their work, for example in sales or communications roles, are also still difficult to replace.

So, when it comes to AI and the future of work, think in terms of opportunities rather than nightmare scenarios. And always seek out creative, human unique selling points.

Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers

Science belongs online; today, that is almost taken for granted. Studies show that papers shared on social media are cited more frequently. Platforms such as Bluesky, LinkedIn and others bring research to the attention of journalists, support public relations – and many funding organisations now expect research collaborations to have a presence there. In short: if you want reach and need funding, it is difficult to avoid social media.

A post sometimes achieves more reach than a conference presentation. A short laboratory video on Instagram delights colleagues and laypeople alike. Outreach becomes measurable: followers, clicks, likes, shares. And such figures can be used directly in a funding application or final report.

At the same time, the fact remains that many researchers simply have no desire to use social media. And those who do give it a try quickly realise that it eats up time. Then there is the Fear of Missing Out (FOMO), which affects scientists just as it does everyone else. Meaningful reach does not develop overnight. Visibility requires interaction – replies, comments, discussions – and therefore a great deal of time. Anyone who first has to painstakingly build up a following over several years can quickly end up putting more energy into scrolling than into research. Social media then feels like a second job. Except that the actual job – experiments, manuscripts and applications – gets left undone.

But there is good news. Nobody has to do everything alone. And you can reach people through social media without being active on every platform yourself. Many universities and research collaborations run their own social media channels. Simply pass on the publication – and the responsible team will take care of making it visible. Or someone on the list of authors may already be active and happy to share the work. And anyone who wants their research to reach a less specialised audience can make use of other people’s reach: science influencers with thousands of followers are constantly looking for ideas. Content in exchange for reach – a classic win-win.

Make sure that your research is noticed beyond the ivory tower. Nothing is compulsory; anything is possible. You can therefore allow your preferences to influence what you do, and that is precisely what can make these communication channels appealing. Do not let the fear of missing out (FOMO) stress you, but also enjoy the Joy of Missing Out (JOMO). You decide what you do with your time – and that includes slowing down through focused research work.

Karin Bodewits, k.bodewits@naturalscience.careers

In a presentation workshop, we look at Valters’ presentation, which he prepared for his industrial placement. He presents in a lively and engaging way, but his slides contradict what we discussed in the workshop. I cautiously ask: “Did you have to use a template, or did you design it yourself?” “It’s the company’s corporate design,” he replies, “cute but useless.”

At first glance, the slides are quite appealing: not overloaded, the colours are harmonious, and there are even consistent symbols for standard processes.

The corporate design includes a broad, beige band in the slide background – a weakness of the template. The band looks innocuous, running unobtrusively through the left half of the slide. But it is not just a background element: placing other elements over it reduces contrast. If you leave the band clear, only the right half of the slide remains available for information.

“What is the function of the title slide?” I ask, moving on to my second point of criticism. “I have to name all the people and departments involved and show the logos of the products concerned.” Valters makes no secret of the fact that the template bothers him. The entire content of the title slide could go into the acknowledgements, the penultimate slide. The final slide should be the summary, to catalyse a discussion.

“The company logo appears in the top left on every slide. What would be a better position for it?” I ask the group. Anna’s finger shoots up: “Based on everything we’ve discussed so far, I assume the bin.” Not bad – and if that isn’t possible, the acknowledgements slide could be a compromise. It is a common sin of templates to plaster the most prominent position on every single slide with a redundant logo.

All the problems I raise point to the same thing: the organisation puts itself at the centre instead of the audience. If you want to serve your audience, simply leave out all the corporate nonsense. A heading colour that appears in the logo is subtler and entirely sufficient to make your presentation stand out.

As presenters, we are often forced to use poor templates. We can advocate changes, but the main responsibility lies with the communications departments: focus on the audience.

Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers

The recession Germany is in is not a crash like the one following the collapse of Lehman Brothers. Instead, it seems to be stretching on endlessly, like chewing gum. More and more early-career scientists are responding to the real and anticipated economic difficulties by pursuing the medium-term security of a “postdoc”. After all, research budgets are allocated for several years, making them appear to be a rock in the storm.

It is impossible to predict whether things will look rosier in two years’ time than they do today. The postdoc tactic could therefore merely postpone the problem. If you choose the postdoc route, please do so only if, during that time, you actively work on marketable skills and a broad network.

Taking up what appears to be a secure postdoc is not the only option. There are a few levers we can use to improve our chances in an increasingly competitive job market: the employer’s profile, location and your area of work.

The size of employers and, closely linked to this, their profile, is the dominant factor determining how much competition you face. One of my colleagues worked for a medium-sized biotech company. When a large corporation acquired it, the number of applications exploded virtually overnight – despite salaries falling as a result of the integration. Smaller companies also have the advantage that this is where the greatest growth in jobs is taking place.

The second factor is geography. Metropolitan regions and employers there are popular with young applicants. Consider how large the geographical radius within which you are looking should be.

The third lever is the work itself. You have a scientific degree, so a research and development position may seem the obvious choice. That is what most people think, which is why these jobs are often highly competitive. Determine why you are drawn to such positions. Do you value, for example, intellectual stimulation or freedom in your scientific work? Look at the job market with an open mind and search for all positions that could offer you these things.

Question whether your job search genuinely reflects your own interests. If you do not reflect on your own wishes, you will look for happiness where most other people are looking too.

Karin Bodewits, k.bodewits@naturalscience.careers

In a workshop on networking, we first look at profiles on professional social media platforms such as LinkedIn. Afterwards, I want to know what other networking activities the participants engage in. Finally, I ask where they would like to develop after completing their PhD or postdoc. Yannis speaks up: “I would like to move straight into the chemical industry after completing my PhD.”

Yannis has described his previous experience clearly and comprehensibly in his LinkedIn profile. He attends conferences recommended by his supervisor. There, he presents the results of his research to a specialist audience.

“You show what you have done so far, but not where you would like to develop,” I say. And he is by no means an isolated case. Most of the participants approach things in exactly the same way.

On social media and in our application documents, we can describe ourselves in such a way that we become relevant and findable to the network partners and employers we want to reach. An open-to-work badge above the profile picture is not enough. One example: Sarah wanted to move into industry after a long postdoc. During her postdoc, she carried out preparatory work for a spin-off for her supervisor. Rather than leaving out this experience, which she regarded as unsuccessful, she could describe it on her CV for applications and on social media as follows: “Feasibility study for a spin-off from Prof. Mayer’s working group”. Her profile immediately shows that she is scientifically capable. However, employers in industry are more interested in whether she can also perform in a non-academic environment, and will be pleased if Sarah gives these experiences more prominence.

You also have flexibility in what you do and how you do it when it comes to activities within your network. Are you interested in collaborations with industry? Then look for conferences or other networking events where delegates from academia and industry meet. Do you want to meet someone specific there? Then look for points of overlap with other delegates in advance. Do you share interests with your target person that you could use as starting points for a conversation? Is there someone in your network who could put you in touch with them?

With a little thought, preparation and creativity, you can actively guide the development of your network and align it with your personal goals.

Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers

“Hey Dad, do you know the stupidest statement of all time?” one of my sons asks me at the dinner table. Before I can voice my guesses, he blurts out: “100 is a big number.” He responds to my puzzled expression with a triumphant grin. I reply: “If I may hazard a guess, I suspect it isn’t the stupidest statement in the world. However, it is one of the most common among really stupid statements.”

On the afternoon before this conversation, I gave a scientist at a well-known pharmaceutical company feedback on his presentation. When we came to the inevitable wow slide in the company’s self-presentation, I thought: “Not again!” Why? The presentation was aimed at graduates, whose interest in the company it was intended to spark. The slide contained a series of large numbers without any context, such as: “€5 billion research budget”. Although this amount sounds enormous, it does not initially say anything. During the consultation, we worked out how to bring this figure to life. What percentage of revenue goes into research, and how does this percentage compare with that of the competition? With this information, non-experts can also make sense of it.

With his childish naivety – or his intuitive instinct – my son had recognised that numbers without context are meaningless. This is evident in all areas of life. For example, 100,000 birds die in Germany every year in collisions with wind turbines. That sounds like a lot, but estimates suggest that house cats kill a thousand times more birds. And they do not contribute to the energy transition.

When applying for a job, the private sector in particular loves it when you express your value in numbers. Here, you should consider who is reading your application and, if in doubt, provide more context. Simply imagine that a twelve-year-old were looking over your shoulder while you were writing your CV: if you explain how your ideas enabled you to speed up the processes in a project by two months, you will pass the test. “Sales of goods worth €10 million”, on the other hand, would not.

Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers

“Before we start looking for a specific position, we first need to analyse ourselves,” I begin the topic of introspection in a careers workshop. Some participants seem curious, others less so. “At 30, do I really need an in-depth examination of my navel?”, Ezra asks with a grin.

At another workshop, Oskar stated right at the beginning: “I know my goal; I want to become a patent attorney.” When asked why, he explained that he enjoyed intellectual challenges and precise use of language – qualities that aligned well with the requirements of a patent attorney. During the workshop, his introspection revealed that he thought best when discussing things with colleagues. Patent attorneys naturally exchange ideas with one another, too, but this accounts for only a small part of their working time. The rest is spent alone. Oskar had to reconsider whether he was suited to his apparent dream job.

When scientists take a long time to find their first job, it is not because of a weak application or shy behaviour in an interview. Instead, what is almost always missing is reflection on their own goals and strengths.

Through this kind of introspection, you become aware of your own wishes. We often adopt the ideas of charismatic people whose judgement we accept uncritically. But then we follow their vision, not our own.

Once you are clear about your wishes, you can describe your dedication to the position more effectively. Without this clarity, many application letters sound as though ChatGPT has reformulated the requirements from the job advert into a covering letter.

The whispers of the outside world have the disadvantage that they lead you down well-trodden standard paths. But what happens when you apply for the same kinds of positions, in the same organisations and in the same places as most of your competitors? That’s right. You will find it difficult to stand out in this overcrowded part of the labour market.

Carrying out a self-analysis before applying is neither naval-gazing nor a make-work exercise for underemployed workshop facilitators. It is a central step in aligning your job search with your own wishes and strengths.

Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers

In a coaching session, I am sitting opposite Magda, who is about to accept a position as production manager. She tells me about the upcoming negotiation with her boss: “She is a tough person, and I don’t think she will give in.” Magda’s move into production would mean a change to her employment contract, as she would also have to come in at night in emergencies. In return, Magda would like to work from home one day a week – not the easiest starting point.

I show her some of the low points of the recent rail strikes. Railways chief Weselsky began the escalation with crude insults. The employers’ side refused to begin negotiations before the old collective agreement expired – a painful delay for employees following the wave of inflation. The employees’ side, in turn, did not want to negotiate behind closed doors, which made mutual concessions more difficult.

“Even though you do not have to expect any insults in your case, it would be interesting to understand why your boss is acting so tough,” I begin applying this to Magda’s situation. She thinks for a moment and then says: “Management is putting her under enormous pressure, and the HR department is generally sceptical about working from home.” I notice that Magda has chosen different words from those she used at the beginning, namely “difficult environment” rather than “tough person”. Putting yourself in the other person’s shoes means focusing on their behaviour rather than on supposed character flaws.

By starting negotiations early, Deutsche Bahn AG could have accommodated the employees’ side without weakening its own negotiating position. “Is there anything you could give your boss without it hurting you?” I ask Magda. She nods. “Of course I would agree to the contract change if I were taking on responsibility in production, but not for nothing.” I continue: “And conversely: would there be any advantages for your boss if you occasionally worked from home?” “Definitely. Production is like a henhouse; I can’t work quietly there when I need to write a report, for example. It is much easier to do that at home.”

The negotiation strategy now seems clear: Magda will first speak to her boss alone. She will ask what management expects of her. Then the two of them will work out together how they can reach a win-win situation, which will then be presented to the HR department as an overall package.

Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers

In an application workshop, I demonstrate the classic opening of a job interview with Faye, an American: “Tell me a bit about yourself.” She responds without hesitation: In 60 seconds, we learn the highlights of her educational journey, her motivation for applying, and the added value she would bring to the fictional employer. The other participants look impressed, but also a little concerned. Andreas sums up his thoughts: “If we were competing for the same position, I could pack it in – I could never convince the employer so strongly.”

Faye has done a good job. In the USA, such brief self-introductions are part of the school curriculum – it is hardly surprising that she delivers hers so fluently. Nevertheless, the other candidates in the fictional situation would not yet be out of the running.

Faye presented herself in her native language; she was playing on home ground. This is both a blessing and a curse. We are all more relaxed when we are allowed to speak the language we grew up with. Native speakers have to expend less mental energy finding the right words. Speaking very fluently can, however, also lead to the tongue being quicker than the mind.1) In discussions, this can result in impulsive (re)actions; in a lecture, it can lead to an excessively fast speaking rate. Having to find your words can therefore actually be an advantage. This is usually the case when you express yourself in a foreign language.

I ask the group: “Did you understand everything Faye said?” “Her English is obviously very good,” Felix replies. “Nevertheless, I find it easier to understand the English of someone who is not a native speaker.” During the last coffee break, he had been talking to Andreas, who comes from Lower Bavaria – his dialect was difficult for Felix, a native of Flensburg, to understand. By contrast, Andreas’s strong German accent when he speaks English may not sound beautiful, but it is very easy to understand.

So speaking in a foreign language need not be a disadvantage for you: A more laborious, but potentially more careful choice of words, and perhaps even better comprehensibility, can work in your favour.

Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers