When hard work turns into academic obsession

I like to think. I am paid to think. This is a privilege.

I like to solve problems, especially if I can come up with clever and simple ways of beating challenges. My brain will stew on a problem, reduce it to the basics, and methodically address each challenge in turn.

Most of these solutions will fail. Blind alleys will be found. The labyrinth of knowledge is filled with misadventure. Eventually, I hope that I’ll find the way out — a solution that makes sense. But this solution may not exist.

If it is a good problem, my brain will continue to turn, haunting my day-to-day interactions and my sleep patterns; and I become single-minded in finding a good solution. In essence, I become obsessed.

In academia, this is common. Most of our research challenges are hard work and they require tenacity. We rarely solve problems with a single “lightbulb” moment.

We might fictionalise the story afterward, often romanticised in a journal paper which provides an unconscious narrative that “it was clear that A led to B which obviously led to C (if you are brilliant like us, obvs).”

I guess I am trying to share that this glorious sun-blessed orchard of discovery looks “great” on paper. Yet in reality we are often stumbling about on a tundra on a foreign planet, without enough provisions to eat; we struggle to breathe; sleep is challenging; and we are sharing this adventure with a mixture of hospitable and inhospitable neighbours. At the back of our minds, we are just trying to survive and find a way to make things work.

For the present story, I’ve been stuck on something for about two years. I know I have a good idea (evidenced through the recent work that’s entered the field) and yet I’ve been struggling to demonstrate the method with the rigour I desire. Partly, this has been because the problem requires prolonged thought (and my academic day rarely has sufficient uninterrupted thinking time) and partly because I have been able to procrastinate – aka do a host of other fun things.

Due to a left field contribution from an unexpected group in the literature, I have been spurred into solving this problem. Therefore, to find the time to satisfy this challenge, I have been working late, working weekends, and obsessing far too much. And my brain likes the masochistic “yay fixed” - “oh not quite” - “yay fixed” roller coaster of my journey.

Well, last night I found the solution I am looking for. I am relieved. I know that I have something which works well enough. I did a dance in my office, closed my laptop, and went home. My laptop remains at work and I am going to enjoy a day without satisfying the cravings to meddle with this idea more.

I hope I am writing this, in part, to let free a concern I have. I wonder what cost did this level of obsession have? My brain hurts and my mental health has suffered (working too many days in a row and neglecting some self-care). This is tensioned against the realisation that I have also beaten a challenge and found out something new.

Ultimately, as an academic with an increasing “non-research” life, I am left wondering: How can I find the time to feed the obsession and provide genuine contributions to my field?