I think it’s common for researchers to change their field at some point in their careers. Yet, this process is far from easy. It often feels like conquering an unknown mountain all over again, after already having carved a path through the previous one. There are many reasons why we shift our research niche, sometimes it’s because we feel our career has reached a dead end, sometimes it’s the curiosity to learn something new, and sometimes it’s simply due to the availability of funding or opportunities.
I’m no stranger to this kind of change, in fact, I’ve been a foreigner in every field I’ve entered. As an undergraduate, I knew almost nothing about aquatic pathobiology, yet I pursued it. I enjoyed it, learned from it, and eventually found comfort in it. But during my master’s degree, I took a sharp turn toward molecular ecotoxicology, a field that initially felt like an entirely new language. Still, I learned it, worked through the struggles, and published several papers, even if in low impact and regional journals.
Then came my PhD, and once again, I found myself starting over. During my first year, I felt lost, like I knew nothing and had to learn everything from scratch. The reason for changing research fields this time was simple: that was the project available for me to work on. Sometimes, that reality feels a bit sad. It can feel like being a blind person in the middle of a crowded and fast-moving intersection of science. When people ask me about my work, I occasionally hesitate. I question my authority to answer, after all, how could I compare to others who’ve spent their entire careers in this field while I’ve only been here for a few months?
But perhaps I’m not alone in feeling this way. Many researchers go through similar transitions, though their reasons may differ. Some feel excitement instead of uncertainty, thrilled by the chance to explore new scientific landscapes. Others find renewed passion when they stumble upon a field that truly resonates with them.
Science, after all, is built on curiosity and passion. What keeps us moving forward isn’t the promise of prestige or high salaries, but the joy of discovery, that quiet satisfaction of uncovering something new, however small. Yes, the journey can be disorienting and humbling. But in the end, it’s this very uncertainty that reminds us why we chose to become scientists in the first place.
“Do the science that you love and learn to love the science that you do”. In those moments of rediscovery, we often find not just new knowledge, but new versions of ourselves.
-The Scientific Moron (Published: 10/31/2025)
Disclaimer: Cover image was generated using an AI tool.