Can we have a round of applause for the British weather, please? Yesterday, I set out bright and breezy into a sunny, clear morning, sporting my nice white summery trousers, ready for a day on campus. By the time I had to head out for my first meeting… APOCALYPSE. Hailstones the size of Maltesers ready to batter me in the face, propelled by gusts of wind unthinkable when I’d set out at 8:00am.
I was scared to set foot outside. Afraid that my trousers would go see-through and I’d look a right fool. Unsure if my bag could protect my laptop from the barrage of tiny ice balls. I was NOT ready for this… I felt stressed, confused, and did NOT want to go out there.
Stressed, confused, and scared to go out there: exactly like many researchers I talk to who know they want/need to explore their options to take their careers beyond academia. That feeling that you’re about to head out into the hail without your waterproofs… it shows up in all kinds of ways, including:
- Feeling overwhelmed by the idea of ‘starting again’ after spending years focused on a particular research area.
- Worries you’ll let others (or yourself) down if you don’t stay in academia.
- Resigning yourself to the idea that in a tough job market, it’s pointless even looking.
- Difficulty ‘seeing yourself’ as something other than a researcher/ a sociologist/ a theoretical physicist, etc.
- Feeling like you’re ‘giving up’ by turning down yet more short-term research or teaching contracts.
- Putting pressure on yourself to make the ‘right career decision,’ leading to decision paralysis.
Hence, to even begin to engage with the process of understanding what could be out there for you beyond academia, you need your boots and your raincoat. And by that I mean… You need to recognise what might be holding you back, and see what you can do about it. And (thankfully) that doesn’t mean you need a fully-formed five-year plan; instead, you might just need to do a bit of groundwork before you step out into the squall.
A few ways to start “getting equipped”
1. Noticing the stories you’re telling yourself
Many of those fears above are rooted in narratives we’ve absorbed over time: about what ‘success’ looks like, or what leaving academia ‘means,’ and where those narratives come from. Are they ours… or someone else’s? Do we hold others to them… or just ourselves?
Simply naming those assumptions is often the first step in loosening their hold.
2. Separating identity from role
If you’ve spent years becoming “an academic,” it can feel destabilising to imagine being anything else. But being a researcher isn’t just a job title: it’s a set of skills, ways of thinking, and approaches to problems that can show up in many different contexts.
You don’t lose that, or have to leave it all behind… you can carry it with you into whatever you do next.
3. Letting yourself not know (yet)
Uncertainty is uncomfortable, but it’s also part of the process, and trying to rush past it often leads to more stress rather than less. Being ‘ready’ doesn’t mean having all the answers… it means being in a head-space where you feel willing to engage with the questions.
No matter how many links you can gather for different job boards, or how many tips you collect for creating a masterful CV, the likelihood of you acting on that information is low if you don’t feel emotionally or mentally ready to do so. In fact, if that’s the space you’re in right now, then just stepping outside the door can feel – like me in the hail storm – overwhelming, exposing, and something you’d much rather avoid altogether.
Why “navigating” matters
So, speaking of things that feel exposing and easy to avoid… (!) Navigating Careers Beyond Academia: A Practical Handbook for Doctoral and Postdoctoral Researchers (catchy title, I know) is out in August, and this is exactly where I wanted the book to begin. Because, according to the Cambridge Dictionary, the act of navigating, ‘encompasses both the literal plotting of a route and the figurative act of skillfully steering through a complex process, situation, or […] environment.’
And that act of steering requires more than information. It requires skills and awareness, like:
- How to recognise and work through the emotional side of career change, rather than just trying to push past it.
- Untangling ideas of success, failure, and identity that have often been shaped by academic culture.
- Dealing with feelings of loss around moving on from something in which you’ve invested a huge amount of time and energy.
- Building self-trust, especially if time spent on short-term and precarious contracts has eroded your sense of agency over your career.
- Giving yourself permission to be in a messy, in-between space where you don’t yet have clear answers.
What I wanted this book to do was help you build those navigation skills for yourself: to be able to step outside, assess the situation, and keep moving forward in a way that works for you.
So before rushing into applications, decisions, or trying to figure out ‘what to do with your life,’ it’s worth asking: am I actually ready for the journey? Because once you’ve done that groundwork – once you feel even a little more equipped – everything that comes next becomes that bit easier to engage with and to navigate.
That idea of ‘getting ready’ is where Navigating Careers Beyond Academia begins.
So if any of this resonates, that’s exactly the starting point I explore in more depth there. Join the journey from 20th August!*
*That is, if the release date on the website doesn’t change between then and now, which, you know, is always possible… but we have to be prepared for unexpected twists and turns, and not see these as setbacks, right…?!