Lessons from Women in Neuroscience

Last spring, I attended a small workshop on Astrocytes (arguably the coolest cells in the brain). It was an entire week of listening to leading experts studying these fascinating cells from different angles, using various tools. However, what stood out to me the most was the women-in-STEM panel they organised, featuring a few well-established and inspiring female researchers in the field. 

The panel started with each person describing their academic journeys and discussing the obstacles they have faced as women, from working in male-dominated labs to organising childcare. It was very valuable to see examples of female scientists doing amazing work and being honest about their experiences. However, as the questions opened to the audience, the discussion became more passionate. 

People from the other end of the lecture hall were telling everyone about the discrimination they have faced, along with the support universities may or may not have given them. However, given the panel's one-hour duration, it was clear that some issues needed more time to discuss. 

I left the workshop thinking, as a PhD student, is academia for me? I wanted to hear more, and as someone early in their career, I wanted to gain more insight into what it’s like to start a career in academia post-PhD.

To illustrate this, I asked a group of extraordinary female researchers, from PhD to reader level, a series of questions. These women were all at various stages of their careers and had vastly different experiences. Each explored their views regarding work-life balance, publishing, and gender bias across their careers. We also asked them to reflect and share some advice on their time in research. Here is what they said:

Meet The Researchers: 

Katrine Gaasdal-Bech, PhD Candidate at University of Edinburgh: 

“I entered neuroscience by an unlikely route. I started out studying theatre in Denmark but found myself increasingly lured into science. I completed a Psychology degree across Sweden and the UK, fascinated by the inner workings of the mind

, and then pursued a master’s and PhD degree in Neuroscience to understand the biology beneath it. Currently, I am finishing my doctorate which focuses on brain ageing and rejuvenation with the aim of stopping neurodegenerative disorders before they get a chance to develop.”

Modesta Blunskyte, Senior Single Cell and Spatial Omics Technician at the UK Dementia Research Institute: 

Modesta completed her undergraduate degree in Biomedical Science at the University of Greenwich before interning with Professor Elinor Thompson, focusing on rhomboid proteases in cyanobacteria, and built foundational molecular biology skills within her lab.

She then went on to complete a master's degree in Neuroscience at King's College London and worked on Drosophila melanogaster and their olfactory system.

Following this, she started working in Professor Joerg Albert’s lab as a research technician, working on Drosophila melanogaster’s hearing system, and spent three years there.

She is now working at the UKDRI as a single-cell and spatial ’omics technician at the Single Cells and Spatial Omics facility.

Dr. Jelena Baranovic, Lecturer in Biochemistry at the University of Edinburgh: 

“During my undergraduate degree in molecular biology at the University of Zagreb, Croatia, I responded to an advert for a summer project at the University of Oxford. The internship did not come with funding, so I had to find a way to support my stay in Oxford. I was lucky enough to get a scholarship from the City of Zagreb, wh

ich enabled me to spend three months at the University of Oxford, in the group of Prof. Richard Berry. This was one of the most formative experiences of my career. I was directly supervised by, then a PhD-student, Prof. Teuta Pilizota who has been my colleague and mentor ever since. I turned this work into my undergraduate thesis, after which I came back to the University of Oxford to do my DPhil at the Department of Physics, in the group of Prof. John Ryan. 

To start with, my PhD project was about a small potassium-selective ion channel, called Kcv, found in the viruses that infect algae. I thought this was perfect as I was very keen not to use animals in my research. But it was not meant to be. More than a year into my PhD, I had to change course and switch to a different ion channel - the AMPA neuroreceptor, found in our brains where it plays a crucial role in memory formation and learning. This was my first experimental encounter with neuroscience. I was hooked on the fascinating biology of these proteins and have been working on them ever since. 

During my PhD, I attended a talk by Prof. Andrew Plested. I was awestruck by the presented data - the various ways in which he manipulated functional properties of AMPA neuroreceptors, the design of the experiments and the wealth of insight they generated. I was determined to apply for a postdoc position in his lab at the Leibniz Institute for Molecular Pharmacology in Berlin, Germany, after the talk and to work on subunit composition of AMPA receptors. It was all a bit nerve wracking, because I did not have my PhD paper yet at the time. I did email him, but I also really wanted to discuss my (naïve) ideas about AMPA receptors, so I applied for a summer school at UCL, London, about single-molecule recordings of ion channels, where he was teaching. This in-person contact was critical in getting my postdoctoral position. Incidentally, I am now co-organising a successor version of that very same summer school with Andrew in Berlin (https://www.biologie.hu-berlin.de/en/groupsites/cellbp/berlin-smb-course). I started my postdoc in 2012 and my time in Berlin was incredibly fun and fulfilling. I still think it is one of the best cities to live in. 

After the postdoc, I applied for a lectureship at the University of Edinburgh. At the time, I did not think I was ready to apply for anything. I thought I should be focusing on finishing (never-ending) experiments, and I only did it on Teuta and Andrew's encouragement. I have been in Edinburgh ever since, benefiting from its very collaborative environment while trying to balance my lab, teaching and family.”

Dr. Parastoo (Parry) Hashemi, Reader in Brain Diagnostics and Therapeutics at Imperial College London : 

Parry completed her PhD at Imperial College London, working on online microdialysis techniques for monitoring humans with traumatic brain injury. She then moved to her first postdoc position at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, developing an in vivo detection method for brain serotonin.

Following this, she was tenured as an assistant professor at Wayne State University and the University of South Carolina, before returning to Imperial College to use previously developed tools she had worked on to detect serotonin in different models to help diagnose mental disorders such as depression.

Navigating Work Life Balance:

As a PhD student, I have always found it hard to switch off. My mind is usually planning the next experiment or thinking about how to analyse some data better. Other PhD students around me have a similar issue. But how can we better navigate this, and does it get harder to manage the more we progress through our careers?

Question:

An article (Sibener et al., 2022). mentioned that the key to productivity is to take breaks and have a good work life balance. How achievable do you think this is in academia, and has this changed as you’ve progressed through career stages? What sacrifices does this career quietly expect you to make?

Katrine: 

Doing a Ph.D. is very different to completing a master's or undergraduate degree, as Katrine pointed out: “As a PhD student, I am expected to show up and put in my eight hours a day, so it’s less flexible to distribute your time”. Establishing boundaries as a PhD student to avoid burnout is very important. Her outlook on work-life balance was very healthy, and she talked about her experiences with burnout and how she has always recognised the importance of taking breaks: “Resting is also productive, but I do think it’s tricky in academia, and it’s something quite difficult to live up to. A lot of times we feel the pressure on ourselves, and we feel lazy if we take breaks ”. Katrine then described how we need to be proactive with taking breaks even when we are not yet feeling overwhelmed. She opened up about taking time off and how there may have been guilt at the time but, in hindsight, it was still very much worth it. What's even more important is to be in that supportive environment and, at the PhD level, to have a good supportive PI like theirs who encourages it. 

Modesta: 

“Speaking from experience as a technician working in academia - I absolutely believe you can have a good work-life balance. Over the years, I have learnt that productivity is not just about how many hours you worked, but what you can achieve within those set hours by prioritising tasks and setting boundaries. With experience comes clarity about how long experiments take, what can realistically fit into a day, and when it makes sense to step back and take a break.

As I have progressed throughout my career, my sense of work-life balance has improved. As I have become more efficient and confident in the lab, I have been able to organise my days much better and buffer for any unexpected delays or tasks. Taking breaks is crucial because it helps me stay focused, reduces chances of burnout, and ultimately makes me more productive when I am at work.

However, academia does come with implicit expectations and sacrifices that one may have to make, which can vary from role to role and stage of career. One sacrifice I have personally noticed in academia is “invisible work” that we as technicians might have to do, such as training new staff, helping with lab organisation or mentoring others, which require time and energy. Mental load is another silent sacrifice we may have to make when experiments don’t go as planned which, in consequence, requires troubleshooting that spills over into off-hours mentally even if we are not in the lab physically.

I would like to emphasise that these sacrifices may not be applicable or may not be permanent and all-consuming, especially if one sets clear boundaries and communicates expectations with supervisors and colleagues.”

Jelena: 

“I guess it depends how one defines work-life balance. If a work-life balance means “having a regular hobby just for yourself”, then no, I do not have that at this stage of my life, but I did have it as a PhD student and a postdoc.

But I do have a family. It reminds me constantly my job is “just” a job, at the end of the day. In that sense, it allows me to refresh and open my mind, takes me out of my comfort zone regularly, and provides the biggest possible counterweight to the daily demands of the job. Having family certainly helps me put things into perspective and increases my overall stamina and resilience. At the same time, there are moments when it makes an already huge workload overwhelming. 

I have never felt the gender imbalance in academia more acutely than since starting a family. At least in the UK, the system broadly does not support equal parental leave and, although on paper some things are more explicitly recognised, this does not translate into practice. Until parental leave is, as a rule, equal for both parents, we cannot talk about equality in the workplace. But parental leave is just a part of the story. Obviously, the kids need care and attention after the parental leave, so there are periods when there is very little extra time available for work outside the regular hours. This is a problem in academia as the workload is unsustainable within standard hours. Administrative demands, for example, frequently encroach on time reserved for research and teaching, creating a particularly heavy and disproportionate burden for those with caring responsibilities. And this is all assuming solid support from family and/or friends. Without these, the challenge is even bigger and the disparities even starker. 

My partner and I met during our PhDs and both did our postdocs in Germany after that. The fact that he also has an academic background means a huge deal to me. It means I do not have to explain and justify myself when deadlines get tight and when I cannot be the one to stay at home with a sick child. If this understanding was lacking, the daily pressures would damage any relationship. 

The main sacrifices are also, in my case, family related. As a PhD student and a postdoc, I could not even contemplate having a family. If the experiments are working, I am staying in the lab. If I had to leave at 17h every day, I am not sure my data would go very far. There are plenty of women who have kids during their PhD and/or postdoc and I really admire them - I have no idea how they make it work. It was only after transitioning into a lecturer and a PI role, with a shift towards more flexible, desk-based tasks, that I allowed myself to consider having a family. Flexibility is one thing I really appreciate about academia, and it is critical for balancing family and work, especially if there is no family nearby, like in our case. So, for me, the career in academia was the primary consideration in my family planning. I delayed parenthood, which offers certain advantages, but also introduces obvious and significant risks.”

Parry: 

“In academia, as you get more senior the workload increases. I never really considered research ‘work’ because it’s a great passion of mine, but as I became more senior, the more extra roles I took on in administration, service, outreach, teaching, mentoring, editorial, societies, charities etc. Most of us do this job out of deep love and passion and have to work actively to take breaks and step away. We’ve built research programmes from scratch, they’re our babies and we never stop thinking and being curious about them. If I do take a two-week holiday and do no work at all, I find it quite difficult to come back and have my brain do what I need it to.

Having kids has forced me to forge a balance between work and home, however, I don’t consider it work-life balance at all. Having children is often much much more exhausting than working. My exhaustion really started after I had kids, trying to be successful at work and being a successful parent. I think this is an issue with any professional career for most women, not just in academia, and a much bigger story in our society. By the time I am done with work and kids, there is very little left for myself. My friends who are doctors, lawyers and in finance face the same problem, but I consider academia a bit better because of the flexible working hours; for example, I can (and do often) bring my kids to work with me during holidays and, generally, people understand if I have to cancel meetings to run home to deal with emergencies. These are privileges a lot of my other professional friends don’t have.”

Main Message:

How we distribute our time will look very different depending on our life stage. As we get older, if we want to have kids, the flexibility academia gives is very valuable.

However, in the UK, shorter paternal leave than maternal leave causes inequality. There could be many different solutions. Regardless, it’s important to acknowledge this issue and recognise how it can impact women's careers.  

Mental Health:

Working a lot can take a toll on your mental health. Personally, I have gone through many cycles of burnout. Sometimes we can put too much pressure on ourselves to get things done, which can be draining. But when we go beyond this stage, do things change?

Question:

Have you ever considered leaving the field and, if so, what stopped you? Do you feel like you can afford to take time off for your mental health? 

Katrine:

Katrine discussed taking time off for yourself, but added: “Now I see it as an investment instead of something to be guilty about”. Our PhDs are typically the start of our scientific careers, and a good point Katrine made was: why burn ourselves out when we have so much more to do?

Modesta:

“I think it’s natural, as a person, to occasionally wonder what else you might have achieved if you chose a different path. Those thoughts have been more hypothetical than driven by dissatisfaction. Curiosity about alternative careers doesn’t necessarily mean you want to leave, sometimes it’s simply part of reflecting on growth and possibility.

In terms of my mental health, I feel very fortunate. Both my previous manager and my current manager are supportive not only when it comes to taking time off, but also in the day-to-day workflow. If mistakes happen - which is inevitable in science - I’m supported rather than scolded. That makes a huge difference. It creates an environment where you can learn, improve, and be honest about challenges without fear. That kind of culture reinforces that productivity and wellbeing go hand in hand, and that sustainable work ultimately leads to better science.”

Jelena:

I considered leaving the field during my PhD and postdoctoral years, mainly because I thought I would have to. I thought there was no point considering a career in academia without a “Nature/Science/Cell” paper, but I did get a position before I managed to come up with a credible plan B. Since then, when things get overwhelming, I feel like taking a break rather than quitting everything. I find that shorter, more frequent breaks work better for me than a few longer breaks throughout the year. This is mainly because the amount of work that would accumulate if I genuinely switched off for a few weeks would make me anything but relaxed. Doing both teaching and research increases the workload but, weirdly, also provides balance. I feel I do not have enough time to do anything properly, but at the same time, research provides a relief from teaching and teaching provides a relief from research.

I would like to think I can afford to take time off for my mental health. Up to a point. If I had to take an extended period of leave, e.g. six months or longer, for my mental health, I am not sure how supportive and tolerant the system would be. Sure, on paper, it should all work out, but in reality, I would worry whether I would be able to make up for the “lost” time. Again, in my case, this would come on top of the parental leave and caring responsibilities, which might aggravate the effects.

Parry:

“We all have good days and bad ones. It’s important to have a support network to be able to vent about things (I do this often and well!) and this usually does the trick for me as my friends outside academia quickly bring me back down to earth. I try hard to stay calibrated and have perspective. I might feel awful after a grant review, feedback about my ideas or an interaction with a negative person, but this doesn’t compare to a doctor who loses a patient, for example. Even in my darkest times, I don’t consider leaving academia. In those times, I try to remember I’ve worked really hard and I enjoy my job. I get to work with brilliant people every day and travel the world, and even if it’s in the tiniest way, I do believe that my work contributes something positive to the people around me and to the world. This is important to me.”

Main Message:

Sometimes there is a cycle of working really hard, feeling burnt out, taking time off, coming back and starting all over again. These responses show that we have to be intentional about the time off we take and try to make the work environment as positive and supportive as possible.

Gender Bias

Going back to the panel discussion, many audience members spoke about how women in the field are treated differently from men. People shared their experiences of the subtle and not-so-subtle things that had happened to them.

Question:

Have you ever felt like your competence was questioned because of your gender? How did it feel? 

Katrine:

​Katrine's response gave a positive outlook: “I have never felt that I have stood out because of my gender”.  Being in a female-dominated lab, she was talking about a positive example she has seen of women helping and celebrating other women. 

Modesta:

“Yes, I have experienced moments where I felt my competence was questioned because of my gender. I’d prefer not to go into the specific situations, but the feeling itself is something that stays with you. It made me feel small, as though my skills and experience were being overlooked. What’s particularly frustrating is that these experiences are not isolated; they reflect a broader issue that is still very present. Even in environments that value evidence and merit, bias can subtly shape how people are perceived and treated. Over time, though, I have learned to anchor my confidence in my experience, my track record, and the quality of my work. While those moments are discouraging, they have also strengthened my belief to be supportive and fair to others in the lab, and to contribute to a culture where competence is recognised regardless of gender.”

Jelena:

“Yes, several times that I have noticed, and who knows how many times without me even noticing. And that is the infuriating part: when it happens, it is not explicit. No one will say “I doubt a woman would know this or be able to do this”, but you do notice it, you feel it even if you cannot put a finger on it or prove it. For the most part, people do it subconsciously. When it happens, my first thoughts are those of self-doubt: did I imagine it, am I over-reacting? One occasion, in particular, sticks in my mind: we were discussing a piece of equipment that I made, and the person looking at it dismissed what I was saying entirely. I was left feeling annoyed and surprised, but also questioning something I knew was a fact. It is hard to imagine the same would have happened if I were a man, especially if I were an older, established male scientist. The reason why this stuck with me is because the person apologised the next day. That made a big difference because it recognised it was not all in my head. 

I think it is important to speak up if you witness something like that. Often, the person on the receiving end of a discriminatory comment will take time to process it, whereas a neutral witness will see things more clearly and is in a unique position to call it out respectfully. Both, my PhD and, especially, my postdoctoral supervisors were on the other side of this: all discussions were on an equal footing and this was formative for my career. It gave me support and confidence essential for my independence as a scientist. The fact that this stood out for me so clearly indicates I was probably dismissed more than I’d like to admit.” 

Parry:

“I think we all have implicit biases, but I also like to think that most academics are smart enough, and have enough exposure to many types of people, to understand that intelligence and competence don’t have a shape or colour. I have often thought that people underestimated me when they first met me, but it only lasted a matter of minutes until we had a conversation. I am confident in my abilities and intelligence, so this generally isn’t my experience. However, I do think that strong, intelligent and competent women often experience resentment and hostility, and women in leadership positions often don’t get the respect and support they deserve. This does make me sad because women make excellent leaders - there are books written about it!”

Main Message:

Gender bias can take place obviously or subtly and can impact you consciously or not, but the key is to stay confident and call out the behaviour when we see it happen to others to promote a better work environment. But, more importantly, if someone questions you for no reason, always stay objective and never doubt yourself.

Publishing 

A big part of this panel discussion was somebody bringing up the pressure young people have these days to publish lots of data. Some people brought up that doing experiments is not as “pure” as it used to be; we are less likely to explore things for pure scientific discovery. Instead, we need to make everything ‘fit’ specific journal standards. So, we asked:

Question:

Are there any expectations or metrics that harm the quality of science these days? 

Katrine:

Katrine had the same perspective as myself; as we are both early on in our career, we haven’t published much but can sense that “There is an inflation in complicated experiments you need to do in these main brand journals”. 

Modesta:

“I do think that certain metrics, such as journal impact factor or the h-index, can unintentionally harm the quality of science when they become the primary way we evaluate success. They do provide a measurable way to assess output, however, they don’t always reflect the rigour, reproducibility, or long-term value of the work. From my perspective in the lab, good science often takes time - troubleshooting, repeating experiments, refining techniques, and ensuring results are robust. When there is pressure to publish quickly or in high-impact journals, it can sometimes create tension between speed and thoroughness. I also think that some essential contributions to research - technical expertise, maintaining high lab standards, mentoring, and ensuring experiments are reproducible - are not well captured by citation-based metrics. These elements are crucial to scientific quality but are harder to quantify. Metrics are useful tools, but when they drive behaviour rather than simply measure it, that’s when they can start to affect the culture and potentially the quality of science.”

Jelena:

“All simplistic metrics lack the full picture and do harm if they are over-relied on. On the other hand, how do you differentiate between hundreds of applications for a grant or a job? Other ways of reporting and evaluating an applicant’s career are also emerging; for example, a more narrative CV and a publication record, more impact-focused outputs etc. Some funders support, or even insist on this, so there does seem to be broad acknowledgement that we need more varied and nuanced ways of evaluating research. Not a metric per se, but an eligibility criterion for some grants I find particularly jarring, is the age restriction. Of course, people need different kinds of support at different career stages, and funders often want to target a particular career stage, but age restriction, again, more negatively impacts people with caring responsibilities. Yes, most, if not all funders these days will take into account parental leave but, as I mentioned above, the care does not stop when parental leave ends. Some funders are flexible enough and willing to consider applications on a case-by-case basis, but many people will see that restriction and conclude they do not have time or the right to write to the funder directly and ask for an exemption for themselves.”

 Parry:

“It’s true that there are strong expectations to publish and publish in good journals. I don’t see this harming the quality of science though, quite the opposite; it’s hard to publish work in a good journal, and referees and the journals hold us to extremely high standards. It is stressful (not as stressful as winning grants), and a well cited paper in a lower impact journal is just as good as a badly cited paper in a high impact journal. In my view, the predatory journals and conferences are creating havoc by soliciting and publishing low quality, often AI-generated work. I think this really harms the public perception of science because the public are not often aware of this issue.”

Main Message:

No matter the journal, other factors can harm research more, such as the use of AI when it adds nothing to the science. On the other hand, the quality of work can suffer due to the pressure to publish work quickly. Taking all of this into account, it’s as Jelena has mentioned: “All simplistic metrics lack the full picture.”

Advice

Question:

What would you tell your younger self, that no PI or supervisor ever said?

Katrine: 

“Scientists don’t exist as just one flavour; there are different types of people. I had this naïve idea that scientists were kind of boring and hiding behind the facts, but all the scientists I know have all been brave, different from each other and have a great sense of humour.”

Modesta: 

“I recently came across a quote that, unintentionally, I think I’ve followed for most of my adult life: do something you are good at, not just something you dream of. Sometimes, what we dream about doesn’t fully align with the reality of doing it every day. Passion is important, but so is recognising where your natural strengths lie. I would tell my younger self to pay close attention to the skills that come intuitively: the things you consistently do well, the areas where others seek your help, the tasks that feel challenging but manageable rather than draining.

It’s absolutely important to explore your interests, but I’ve learned that long-term satisfaction often comes from honing the skills you are genuinely good at and building a career around them. When you work within your strengths, confidence grows, resilience increases, and opportunities tend to follow more naturally.”

Jelena: 

“I am sure people did tell me this, but it did not sink in until it happened. There is more than one path to do whatever it is you want to do, so know yourself, focus on what works best for you, make friends and make mistakes. Formal marks of recognition (such as “Nature/Science/Cell” papers) matter and are important, but are not always sufficient. Your ideas, what you know and how you think will be critical in any interview and application and can make all the difference.”

Parry:

“I think I would tell myself to trust myself more. There was a lot of self-doubt when I was a bit younger, both in my research and in my interactions with others. Everything eventually worked out really well; most of my intuitions and theories were at least partially right. I think I wasted a lot of time doubting and second guessing myself, often missing opportunities (not applying for things) when I should have just leaned in. I also would tell myself to trust my own character, integrity and strength, but equally to own my mistakes and act to put things right quickly, rather than shying away from confrontations. Finally, I’d tell myself to be confident enough to not make people’s bad behaviour about me.” 

Conclusion

We set off doing these interviews, trying to gain insight into the realities of working in academia as a woman. By speaking to women across a variety of career stages, we have seen that every experience is unique.

Work-life balance looks different for everyone, but the more flexible working hours in academia can allow women to prioritise family and mental health more than in other careers.

Our interviewees have shown that discrimination can occur and, if it does, managing it by recognising it and calling it out is important. 

Academia isn’t perfect; whether it’s worth it really depends on your passion for your research and scientific curiosity. With all of this in mind, it can be a great place to build your career.

References

1. Sibener, L.J., Kirchgessner, M.A., Steiner, S., Santiago, C., Cassataro, D., Rossa, M., Profaci, C.P. and Padilla-Coreano, N. (2022). Lessons from the Stories of Women in Neuroscience. The Journal of Neuroscience, 42(24), pp.4769–4773. doi:https://doi.org/10.1523/jneurosci.0536-22.2022 

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These interviews were conducted by Manaal Shah and edited by Clarise Castleman and Rebecca Pope, with graphics produced by Shauna Angell. If you enjoyed this article, be the first to be notified about new posts by signing up to become a WiNUK member (top right of this page)! Interested in writing for WiNUK yourself? Contact us through the blog page and the editors will be in touch.