Collaboration is an integral part of science. By exchanging ideas, researchers from different fields with diverse backgrounds and skill levels can work together to make ground-breaking discoveries that none of them could have achieved alone. However, in today’s “publish or perish” environment, where funding and job opportunities are limited, some scientists become inappropriately possessive over their research.
The Golem Effect
In a 2022 paper published in Frontiers in Ecology and Evolution, researchers explored instances in which fellow scholars jealously hoarded resources, topics and even entire fields of research. They nicknamed this phenomenon the “Golem effect” after the character from J.R.R. Tolkein’s Lord of the Rings trilogy, who became so obsessed with the power of the One Ring that he even forgot his own name and developed a fanatical hatred for the “stupid, filthy hobbits.” “Like the greedy Golem, many researchers believe they have the sole right to particular aspects of research,” study author Jose Valdez explained in an interview with Times Higher Education.
Now, new research led by Valdez suggests that this hoarding behaviour is shockingly widespread. In a pre-print currently under review by One Earth, he and his colleagues report that the Golem effect has a particularly detrimental impact on marginalised groups and early-career researchers—some of whom wind up leaving academia altogether.
This academic rivalry is nothing new. During the latter half of the 19th century, for example, palaeontologists Edward Drinker Cope and Othniel Charles Marsh famously resorted to bribery, theft and sabotage in their vicious battle over dinosaur fossils—a feud that came to be known as the “Bone Wars” and ultimately drove both men to financial and social ruin.
Modern-day disputes may not be quite so extreme, but they can still get pretty nasty. For their 2022 paper, Valdez and Gould drew on personal experience and anecdotal evidence from colleagues to describe several case studies of the Golem effect. In one, a reviewer at a journal attempted to discredit the work of a junior scientist because they felt it would threaten their status and expose limitations in their own research. In another, a PhD student was pressured to list their supervisor as a co-author on a project, although the supervisor was not involved at all with it. The “Golems” of academia may also refuse reasonable requests for data sharing, obscure methods to prevent others from reproducing their work or deliberately sabotage reputations of other researchers.
The new study goes beyond anecdotes, surveying 400 participants across 45 countries, ranging from undergraduates to professors. The responses reveal that 40% have encountered some form of the Golem effect, usually from high-profile researchers, supervisors and competing groups, reporting that the experience took a heavy psychological toll. Many victims took drastic measures, such as changing research topics, while 10% of participants switched career paths entirely.
These practices are so normalised, the study authors report that 20% of participants admitted that they too had exhibited potentially “Golem behaviours. These participants often expressed a need to guard limited resources, were anxious about their work being undermined or stolen or felt they had to “claim” territory in a particular field. “These findings underscore the unhealthy research environments within academia,” the team writes.
Fixing the Problem
Fixing the problem will require a multi-pronged approach at both institutional and personal levels. “Ultimately, by working together to confront and dismantle the Golem effect, we can foster a more supportive and conducive environment for scientific advancement and academic success,” Valdez said.
