There’s a particular kind of quiet tragedy in academia: not the big headlines about REF or funding cuts or strike action (though those matter, of course), but the small, daily loss of what academics were actually trained to do—produce knowledge.

You stay quiet, because if you open your mouth, the frustration, the anger, maybe even the tears, will come with it. You’re constantly pissed off—at everything. The social inequalities on campus. The admin chaos. Even your students’ questionable fashion choices at graduation.

Those of us who made it through to the upper echelons of the education system, i.e., academia, have spent most of our lives following the rules and being good. 

If your inbox were a house, it would be featured on Britain’s Biggest Hoarders.  Mouldy old job alerts. A festering email from your mentor that you meant to reply to 18 months ago.

Academia runs on overwork. That’s not an individual problem; it’s a systemic one. Institutions pile on admin, expect endless teaching labour, and then somehow still demand a world-class research portfolio.

You sit down to do deep work—write a paper, prep a lecture, plan your research.

But before you know it, your fingers are on autopilot.

📩 Inbox. Refresh. Scroll. Click.

You lack boundaries around your inbox, and this is one of the top reasons that you are a flustered professor who only seems to have one mode: spread thin. You open your email inbox for a quick check—maybe just to confirm a module code, or see what time a meeting starts, fast-forward two hours, and...

How many times today have you told yourself I have to? It sounds like a small thing, but the words "I have to" make you feel powerless. They trap you in a victim mentality, reinforcing the idea that you have no control over your work or your time.

I was having a drink with a senior HR professional this weekend who wished to remain anonymous, and he had this piece of advice for university staff who are made redundant: Sign off on the sick for the rest of your contract.

Over the last two weeks, my lab group have hosted two invited speakers remotely. Both were experienced academics and completely comfortable with video conferencing. And yet, both spent the first five minutes of their talk clicking around, sighing, and saying, “Sorry, I just need to figure out how to share my screen.”

You’re holding back on publishing your best ideas because theory feels scary to you. That’s the truth I’ve learned from clients, writing groups, and, if I’m honest, my own experience in academia.

You’ve got a brilliant idea—maybe even five.  But nothing’s happening.  I’m talking about the ground-breaking research centre, the important article, or the amazing life-changing impact project. 

I was listening to a podcast with Gabor Mate the other day talking about junior doctors. He and the podcast host were discussing how some junior doctors just can't tear themselves away from their work and end up staying late or going in on their day off.

If you went part-time to manage your workload only to end up using your unpaid days to catch up on email and things you didn't manage to finish, then it's time to stop.

I met this professor at a women in leadership event, and she was telling me about the time she spent her entire morning looking for these name tags and a welcome banner for the departmental open day.

Women in academia, it's time to do the one thing you always skip: Celebrate Yourself… as we wrap up 2024 with my annual online planning party (it's free to attend).

At a work Christmas party, I met a woman who exuded confidence and ease, which surprised me—until I realised she wasn’t an academic but worked in HR. It got me thinking…

Boundaries are something many of us socialised as women struggle with (we have to be helpful and nice, right?). However, clear boundaries are essential for maintaining well-being and protecting against burnout.

A friend at another institution recently told me about their latest hiring process. They passed on an eccentric genius—someone with amazing research…

Does your brain run a mile a minute to the extent that it feels really hard to switch it off? And when you try, it wants to continue its train of thought? If this is you, read on…