I know that some of you are early in your academic careers — or perhaps transitioning into academia as a second career. Let’s be honest: this is tough.

You leave a doctoral programme or a post-doc — environments in which research is central — and land immediately in a role where you must learn to teach, manage modules, attend meetings, supervise students and navigate institutional culture. In my view, this is the hardest phase of an academic career.

Time is at a premium. Your confidence is still forming. And your capacity to say “no” is at its lowest. Departments do not necessarily exploit this consciously — but they benefit from it. The enthusiastic early career academic becomes the reliable one. The capable one and the one who says yes. And this is where the Yes Reflex becomes dangerous.

 

The Yes Reflex — Early Career Edition

At the beginning of a career, saying yes feels necessary.

“Yes, I’ll take that module.”

“Yes, I’ll join that committee.”

“Yes, I’ll supervise.”

“Yes, I’ll help.”

Off course you want to prove yourself. You want to be collegial and you want to be valued. And more to the point you are not yet secure enough to refuse. But every yes occupies real space in your calendar. And research — unlike teaching — does not shout. It waits quietly and this is how the “post-doctoral slump” accelerates.

The Post-Doctoral Slump

The slump is rarely dramatic. It is not a crisis but is a thinning. You still have papers from your PhD to complete — but no new pipeline. Your doctoral supervisors move on. Your old research group disperses. The intellectual hothouse fades. You are busy. Very busy. But nothing new is being built. It happened to me.

I emerged from a competitive doctoral environment in Edinburgh — ambitious, intense, occasionally cut-throat. I desperately wanted an academic job. Despite a good set of papers, my immaturity cost me in interviews. I spent a year working as a conservation officer before securing my first academic post. I was fortunate to land in a supportive department with a mentor who became a friend. But learning to teach — as a shy introvert standing in front of lecture theatres of students barely younger than I was — was demanding. My head of department was uncompromising and my agency limited.

And the research momentum thinned. The PhD papers were drying up. No new data streams were established. My Edinburgh network receded. I did not call it a slump at the time, but looking back, I can see it clearly. My research identity was at risk.

The Lifeline

I was lucky. I wrote a small grant that was rejected by an experienced Arctic researcher who wrote, bluntly: “Great idea — but do you realise the glacier margins you want to study would be under snow in spring?”

I felt foolish. But he had read my proposal. And soon an invitation followed. A season in the Arctic and then another. Through the 1990s I spent summers in the High Arctic and winters writing. Half a dozen papers each year followed. A new network formed and eventually my first NERC grant. That invitation — that lifeline — pulled me out of the slump.

It came because I had written something. It came because I had risked something and been brave. It came because I said yes — but to the right thing.

Why This Phase Is Structurally Fragile

Early career academics are caught in a structural bind: Heavy teaching loads, with high expectations and low confidence in refusing tasks. You have a fading doctoral network. A developing — but not yet secure — research identity. So it is not surprising that the Yes Reflex is strongest precisely when discernment is weakest.

You say yes to everything because you fear that saying no will mark you as uncommitted. But the indiscriminate yes can lead to dilution. The slump is not caused by laziness, but caused by diffusion and a lack of time to explore new research options. Energy spreads across teaching, committees, pastoral care and service — and the research pipeline quietly empties.

Is There a Solution?

The bad news is there is no simple formula. Some benefit from continuing collaboration with their doctoral supervisors others from post-doc networks. And some stumble into opportunity or find opportunity. There are institutional policies and programmes and these can help, but are not the real answer. If I had to reduce it to a few hard-won principles, they would be these.

1. Protect Momentum — Even If It Is Small. Finish a PhD paper. Write a review paper that sets out future research questions in your field. Submit a small grant. Draft something — anything because the slump deepens when nothing moves and panic can destroy what confidence you have. Momentum does not need to be dramatic, but it does needs to exist for your own sake above all else.
2. Build One New Intellectual Bridges. At some point, you cannot live off doctoral data alone. You need a new stream. One good collaboration. One new dataset. Or one conversation that becomes something more. It may come from: a conference discussion; a rejected proposal; a senior colleague’s invitation; a mistake that becomes an opportunity. While it is tempting to look within your department, it is often better to look beyond. But you must step through this phase and that requires space and courage.
3. Find — and Insist On — a Mentor. This is non-negotiable. You need someone who: understands the system; can help you prioritise and can fight your corner; someone with the confident to say, “You should not be doing that.”; someone who will help you identify what matters and will support you in declining the wrong yeses; and crucially someone who does not simply want to bind you to their research team. Do not accept a token mentor. If the one offered is ineffective, ask for another. Don’t just ask, demand it. You are not being difficult. You are protecting your future.
4. Learn the Disciplined Yes. The Yes Reflex built on enthusiasm must evolve into the Disciplined Yes. Early career academics often believe every opportunity is essential. It is not. The key question becomes: does this yes build my research identity — or merely prove my reliability? Those are not the same thing.

A Challenging Time

The early career years are not just busy. They are formative. Your research identity is either consolidated — or quietly eroded. If you say yes to everything, you might become indispensable to your department. But you may become invisible in your discipline. Protecting your momentum is not selfish. It is strategic and it is necessary. It is the foundation on which the rest of your career will stand.

And here is the uncomfortable truth: No one will protect it for you. You must. Find a mentor and keep your momentum however slow it might be. Choose your yeses carefully. Because early career drift is subtle. And recovery, later, is far harder than prevention. There are no simple answers, but perseverance, belief, opportunity and slow griding momentum will help.

(C) Matthew Bennett, 2026.