Get savvy about online impact

Dennis Relojo is the Founder of Psychreg and is the Editor-in-Chief of the new Psychreg Journal of Psychology.

He serves as an editorial board member for a number of peer-reviewed journals. Dennis holds a Master’s degree in Psychology from the University of Hertfordshire.

His research interests include educational psychology and special education.

You can connect with him through Twitter @DennisRelojo and his website.


Online media provides a host of possibilities for disseminating research. Including video clips in journal articles, for example, can really enhance traditional research outputs. Unfortunately, at the moment online media is often viewed as an accessory to research, rather than as an important element in a unified research lifecycle.

Photo by Markus Spiske | unsplash.com

Photo by Markus Spiske | unsplash.com

The way that people find and consume information is constantly changing: from traditional (i.e. watching television) through Web searching (think Google) to digital (mobile apps). These changes are having some big effects on research, as well as everywhere else.

Traditionally, researchers disseminated their work by attending conferences, publishing in journals (both academic and industry) and giving lectures (both to the public and to students). Online media now provides more channels and a bigger space to disseminate our work: through both general and academic social networking services, blogposts, podcasts and vlogs.

We have a wider reach for public engagement and greater control over our message. It also provides us with opportunities to do things differently.

Read more of this post

Coming back from maternity leave

claudia-szabo-profile-pic-200px-tallClaudia Szabo is a Senior Lecturer in the School of Computer Science and an Associate Dean for Diversity and Inclusion at the Faculty of Engineering, Computer and Mathematical Sciences at The University of Adelaide.

She is passionate about her teaching, research, and Associate Dean role, loves reading and recently loves spending time with her son.

She used to be a long distance runner and a mountaineer, and she’s slowly getting back into these as well.

Very slooowly.

Claudia tweets from @ClaudSzabo.


Photo by Artem Sapegin | unsplash.com

Photo by Artem Sapegin | unsplash.com

It’s been a year since my absolutely wonderful and jaw-droppingly cute baby boy was born, so I thought I’d try to put down in an almost coherent manner some thoughts about what the past year has meant to me in terms of coming back to work and sorting things out!

First, a bit of background about my institutional role and personal context:

At my university, paid maternity leave is 6 months and, if your partner works at the university as well, you can share the maternity leave, provided that the first 14 weeks are taken by the mother.

We shared the leave because it was important for us that my husband bond with Guac (short for Guacamole – not his real name…), so I went back to work when he was three months old. We had an assortment of grandmothers come and stay and take care of Guac once my husband came back to work as well, and Guac will be going into childcare soon.

I realise how incredibly fortunate and blessed I am: I have a continuing position and a job that I’m passionate about. This includes all of its aspects, even the administration (I’m an associate dean for diversity and inclusion for the faculty, so working in a field that I care deeply about – this will be important). My main problems when coming back, then, were in adjusting to academic life while being the parent of a very young child who doesn’t sleep (in the year I have known him, Guac has only once slept for more than one hour straight during the night).  Read more of this post

New Year’s resolutions for women in academia

penny-oxford-250pxPenny Oxford had a number of organisational learning roles in the corporate and government sectors before joining the staff development team of a university in 2006. Since then, she has left the higher education sector and returned so many times that she’s lost count.

Penny has worked in faculties and central research offices in research support, project management, and researcher development roles. She’s most proud of her contributions to the WiSci (Women in Science) and SPAM (Strategic Promotions Advice and Mentoring) programs at the University of Sydney. SPAM could not have happened without the wisdom, guidance and inspirational brilliance of Professors Daniela Traini and Fiona White, and Professor Emerita Robyn Overall. It succeeds because of the outstanding generosity of all its mentors, including Professor Mike Thompson (winner of the inaugural Golden SPAM award for mentoring) and Judy Black, super-mentor and astonishing thespian talent.

Penny tweets from @Penny_O_.


Time to reflect. Photo courtesy of Penny Oxford.

Time to reflect. Photo courtesy of Penny Oxford.

January is traditionally a time to reflect, plan, and – if you’re that kind of person – come up with some New Year’s resolutions!

As we move into another academic year, I’d like to suggest some career development resolutions for female researchers, particularly women in the STEMM (science, technology, engineering, mathematics and medicine) disciplines.

I’ve worked with many of you on career planning, mentoring and promotion support programs over the years and I am in awe of your brilliance, tenacity, resilience and generosity.

I’m also saddened by the scarcity of women in leadership roles and frustrated by a culture that’s not always completely fantastic when it comes to embracing diversity, so I thought I would distil what I’ve learned from many wise mentors into a list of promises that you can make to yourself, to help you take charge of your career in 2017. Read more of this post

Research under attack?

We solicited this post from a veteran researcher whose work has at times been under attack in the mainstream media. They have asked to remain anonymous, but wanted to share their experience and suggest constructive actions other researchers might take if they find themselves in a similar situation.  

The actual research and researcher’s location is deliberately anonymised in this post.

We think the advice that’s offered here is insightful and very useful. Research into controversial topics needs to take place, and those who undertake it can run the risk of being targeted. It’s always good to have clarity about how much support you can count on from your institution – or networks – should something like this happen. 


Arguing | Artwork by www.flickr.com/photos/lucy-wu | Shared under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Arguing | Artwork by http://www.flickr.com/photos/lucy-wu | Shared under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

As academics, we quickly become used to people disagreeing with us.

Our families might disagree with how we spend our time. Our line managers might disagree with our research priorities. And granting bodies might disagree with the claim that our research should be funded. These are all par for the course in academic life.

Different, however, is when those outside of the academy disagree with us. Typically, when this occurs, it involves an ideological conflict between our values and those of others. When this conflict is heightened by particular debates over current social issues, this can result in considerable backlash against academics.

In my experience, such a backlash tends to take the following forms:

  1. Active attempts to discredit the research (e.g. through questioning methodology or interpretation of findings)
  2. Active attempts to discredit the researcher (e.g. through questioning their personal values or personal life)
  3. Active attempts to discredit research itself (e.g. through questioning academic pursuits as having any worth)

In certain cases, speaking back to the first form of backlash can be productive. This might involve working with your university’s media team to develop a statement that can be released to clarify any misperceptions. It can also involve selectively engaging with media outlets where you are likely to be given a fair opportunity to clarify any misperceptions.

To a certain extent, cases involving the third form of backlash can be ignored, given anti-intellectualism as an ideological position is difficult to counter through recourse to the merits of research, though recent examples demonstrate that there may be something to be gained by challenging anti-intellectualism.

Speaking back to attempts at discrediting us personally is something different altogether. Read more of this post

Let’s talk about the humblebrag

Peacock | www.flickr.com/photos/crazycrash | Distributed by creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0

Peacock  (Photo by http://www.flickr.com/photos/crazycrash)  |  Distributed under CC BY-NC-ND – creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0

Academic Twitter had a wonderful and very entertaining festival on the #seriousacademic hashtag in recent days, in response to an (entirely silly, it must be said) anonymous post.

The post, to which I’m not linking as I think it has had too much oxygen already, is basically someone maundering on about how they’re a serious academic and not someone who wants to show off – or be made to show off – on social media.

Because that’s what we’re doing, people, when we’re on social media. Showing off.

A colleague and I were talking about the incident, and we both agreed that if we were given the chance to maunder on about something that we hated when it came to showing off, it would be the humblebrag. Read more of this post

Staying on the radar

I unearthed this fragment of a post the other weekend. I started writing it in 2012, when I was about two years into a professional role at a university as a research grant developer. I had had about ten years of researcher life before that, with back-to-back research-only fellowships. My feelings about leaving my researcher self behind were mixed, to say the least.

Now, I’m about two years back into an academic job after leaving that professional role. And I have things to say to my 2012 self. 

Hopefully, this dialogue with the self is useful for those of you with ‘portfolio careers’ and seemingly zig-zagging career paths. It may never seem like the right way to do things, but  it helps to know that there isn’t a right way to do things.


Me, writing in 2012 while in a professional role: 

What’s the shelf-life of academic expertise?

This is an issue that’s haunted me ever since I started working on the ‘other side of the fence’ in my current professional research development role. I was used to being easily identified as ‘academic’ for many years, and it was the angst of having to explain being a research fellow position that occupied my time. Common things I’d have to say: “No, I don’t teach”, “no, I’m not supposed to teach”, “yes, I’m 100% research”, “yes, that means I don’t teach”.

Now, as a research grant developer, I’m in a role where I’m constantly advising researchers on what’s good practice and savvy research strategy. I can’t help but view my on-the-ground experience as a researcher for over a decade as a core part of the value I bring to my job. Similarly, if I’m not publishing, presenting at conferences, or debating critical issues with peers, am I a lesser occupant of this role?

For example, if I was awarded (and completed) a shiny competitive grant, does my experience in putting that application together count, more than five years later? If I haven’t published in an academic journal for over ten years, do I have credibility advising researchers on how to strategise submissions and papers, or negotiate editorial processes?

I’ve kept a part-time hand in with running the research network but, other than that, haven’t given an academic conference paper or written an academic article for about two years.

It feels strange. Read more of this post