You have to learn to walk before you can run
Photo by Kian Zhang on Unsplash
Years ago, I was having a conversation with a student who wanted to get started on a neuroimaging study, but their supervisor was concerned because the analysis of the pilot data from the behavioral task was full of errors and not what the supervisor had asked for in the first place. The trainee wanted to simply move on from the initial study, without fixing their work, because they felt like if they couldn’t get a neuroimaging study under their belt, then they wouldn’t be as competitive as other trainees when it came time to be on the job market. In another instance, I was speaking with a student who wanted to dive straight into a complicated set of analyses with a dataset that had already been collected. The problem was that they were unfamiliar with this particular kind of data, and they didn’t know how to distinguish the characteristics of acceptable versus unacceptable data, including the standard ranges for some basic metrics that are often used to explore the data. The would have mixed acceptable data with outliers, run an advanced analysis, and never would have known if the results were real or not.
The first student was focused on the outcome more than they were the process; they wanted credit for having done the study, regardless of whether it produced usable knowledge. In the second case, the student had great ambitions, but they weren’t taking the time to learn the craft needed to accomplish their goals. I gave both of these students—and many others—the same advice: you have to learn how to walk before you can run.
There is intense pressure to succeed in academia, and it can be tempting to compare yourself to others in an effort to try to understand what it takes to succeed. But this can often lead to imposter syndrome because you only see other people’s achievements, not their stumbles, and not the hours and weeks of trying, failing, and learning that went into their work. As a result of this imposter syndrome, you may be tempted to skip steps in your development. You may be thinking that you need to hurry and “catch up” in order to do “exciting” lines of research like your colleagues, in an effort to stay competitive in the field. This is trying to run before you’ve learned how to walk.
The problem with skipping steps is that you don’t know what you don’t know. This inevitably leads to mistakes being made. If those mistakes are even caught, then you have to do the work over to try to get it right. Often, the process of backtracking and correcting mistakes takes more time than if you had just put in the effort to learn the steps one-by-one in the first place. And, because mistakes were made, then trust becomes complicated—can your supervisor or your colleagues count on you to produce quality work? Can they put their grant dollars into your projects or will that money just end up wasted because of a critical error?
In the case of the first student, they could never quite got themselves out of the comparison-imposter syndrome anxiety cycle and continued to try to skip steps. They wanted to be able to say that they did something, so they consistently prioritized output over process. They have since struggled to find their place in their chosen field. But the second student? They wanted to learn. They wanted to hone their craft. They adopted the ‘walking before running’ mantra, and applied it to everything they do. And they are now quite successful in their work; they are off running.
Learning to walk is slow and laborious. It can feel like you’re barely getting anywhere, and there are no awards for it. But it’s that necessary, and consistent, work, that will give you a deep, foundational, understanding that makes the more advanced work possible. It’s the work that allows for exponential growth and success later. You just have to get comfortable sitting with the time it takes to get it done, focusing solely on your own growth and progress—and no one else’s—and trust that, in mastering the basics, you’re building the skills that will carry you far.
If you're feeling the pressure to “catch up” or skip steps in your research development, you're not alone. But in fact, there’s nothing to “catch up” to; your development never ends. I work with early-career researchers to build strong, strategic foundations for their continuing growth and development—if you'd like support with that process, let’s talk.
Next week: It’s ok to not be the smartest person in the room. Sometimes it’s even better.
