Slowing Down for Better Science: A Call for Place-Based Research

We’re living in a world on fire—literally and figuratively. Climate change is real, fam. Biodiversity is plummeting faster than my hopes of ever affording a house. And social justice? Still a distant dream for many. It’s clear that something’s gotta give, and the brilliant minds in the science world are starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, they need to change, too.

Enter a group of marine conservation scientists, brought together by the awesome folks at the COMPASS “Leaders for Sea Change” program (how cool is that name?). These brainy folks are waving their hands, yelling, “Hold up, science world! We need to chill out—and by chill out, we mean slow down, listen up, and get real about our relationship with the places we study.”

They even wrote a whole paper about it in the super-prestigious journal PNAS (that’s like the Beyoncé of science journals, y’all) outlining three major ways we can make research more legit, impactful, and, dare I say, woke. Get ready to dive deep, because things are about to get insightful up in here.

Knowledge Extractivism: Science’s Not-So-Hidden Shame

Okay, let’s get real for a sec. Traditional science often operates like that friend who swoops in, devours all your snacks, and bounces without so much as a “thank you”—not cool, right? This, my friends, is the essence of knowledge extractivism.

Imagine this: Scientists, often from wealthy nations, descend upon a vulnerable community in the Global South. They collect data, conduct their research, and then peace out, publishing their findings in fancy journals and racking up accolades. But here’s the catch—they often do this without truly engaging with the local communities, understanding their histories, or acknowledging the wealth of Indigenous knowledge that’s been around for centuries.

It’s like going to a potluck, taking a giant scoop of everyone’s dish without asking, and then claiming credit for the entire spread—not a good look. This extractive approach to knowledge mirrors our messed-up relationship with the natural world, where we take, take, take without giving back. And guess what? It’s kinda contributing to those global crises we were freaking out about earlier.

Pathway 1: Getting Deep and Meaningful with the Places We Study

So, how do we fix this hot mess? The COMPASS crew suggests a radical idea: actually listening. They urge researchers to ditch the “in-and-out” approach and truly immerse themselves in the communities and ecosystems they study. We’re talking about going full-on immersive journalism, but for science.

Imagine a marine biologist studying coral reefs in the Pacific. Instead of just snorkeling around, collecting samples, and calling it a day, they spend time with local fishers, learning about their traditional fishing practices and understanding how they’ve witnessed the reef change over generations. They attend community meetings, listen to elders’ stories, and engage in genuine dialogue about the challenges the reef faces.

This kind of deep immersion can be a game-changer. It can shift perspectives, refine research questions to be more relevant to the community’s needs, and ultimately lead to findings that are way more likely to actually make a difference. Plus, it helps researchers craft those all-important land acknowledgments with actual meaning, moving beyond empty gestures to genuine respect for Indigenous knowledge and sovereignty.

And speaking of acknowledging our place in the world, let’s talk about positionality statements. Remember those “About Me” sections on early websites? Positionality statements are like that, but for scientists—with a woke twist. They go beyond just listing where someone got their PhD and delve into the complex web of identities, experiences, and potential biases they bring to their research. By acknowledging their own positions of power (or lack thereof), researchers can start to unpack how their background might influence their work and strive for more objective and equitable science.

Pathway 2: Teamwork Makes the Dream Work—Seriously!

Remember those group projects in school where one person did all the work, and everyone else just coast along for the grade? Yeah, science can be like that sometimes, but with much higher stakes. The COMPASS crew is all about smashing that dynamic and replacing it with, you guessed it, collaboration.

Instead of waltzing in with a “we know best” attitude, researchers need to ditch the hero complex and embrace a spirit of humility and partnership. This means acknowledging that local and Indigenous communities often possess invaluable knowledge about the ecosystems they’ve been interacting with for generations. We’re talking deep ecological wisdom, y’all, the kind that can make even the most seasoned scientist go, “Whoa, I never thought of it that way.”

Imagine, for instance, a team of hydrologists studying water management in a drought-prone region. Instead of relying solely on their computer models and fancy instruments, they collaborate with local farmers who have been adapting to water scarcity for decades. By combining their scientific expertise with the farmers’ practical knowledge, they can develop much more effective and culturally sensitive solutions. Talk about a win-win!

This collaborative approach isn’t just about being nice; it’s about recognizing that knowledge creation is a two-way street (or maybe a multi-lane highway, depending on how many folks are at the table). When researchers genuinely engage with communities, they open themselves up to a whole new world of perspectives, insights, and innovative approaches. Plus, it builds trust, makes the research way more meaningful for everyone involved, and increases the chances that those findings will actually be used to make a positive impact.

Pathway 3: Time for a System Reboot—Science Edition

Okay, let’s be real—building genuine relationships takes time. And time, my friends, equals money. That’s where things get a little tricky in the fast-paced, publish-or-perish world of academia. But fear not, the COMPASS crusaders have a plan for that, too. They’re calling for nothing short of a system overhaul—a scientific revolution, if you will.

Imagine a world where universities don’t just churn out scientists who excel at writing grants and publishing papers but prioritize training them to become embedded in communities, fluent in the language of collaboration, and deeply connected to the places they study. Think of it as a scientific boot camp for empathy and place-based badassery.

This means shaking up everything from how we evaluate researchers to how we fund their work. Instead of just counting publications and impact factors (those magical numbers that determine whose research is deemed “important”), institutions need to start valuing community engagement, knowledge co-creation, and the actual real-world impact of research. Let’s face it, publishing a groundbreaking paper is cool and all, but if it’s gathering dust on a virtual shelf somewhere, is it really making a difference?

Funding agencies, those gatekeepers of scientific cash flow, also have a crucial role to play. Imagine if, instead of prioritizing projects based solely on their “scientific rigor” (often code for “will this get us published in a high-impact journal?”), they started earmarking funds specifically for place-based research, community partnerships, and projects that center social and environmental justice. Now that’s what I call putting your money where your mouth is.

Putting Place-Based Research into Action: From Ideas to Impact

So, we’ve talked about the “why” of place-based research—it’s more ethical, more effective, and frankly, just more interesting. But what about the “how”? How do we actually make this paradigm shift happen in the real world, beyond the hallowed halls of academia? Buckle up, buttercup, because the COMPASS crew has some concrete ideas for that, too.

Imagine a world where, instead of parachuting into communities to conduct research, we invest in building long-term research capacity at the local level. This could involve empowering local scientists, establishing site-specific research centers, and partnering with community organizations that are already doing amazing work on the ground. Think of it as a scientific version of “support local businesses,” but for knowledge creation.

By shifting the power dynamics and resources towards the communities most affected by the research, we can ensure that the questions being asked are actually relevant to their needs and that the findings are used to create positive change. This might mean helping a coastal community adapt to rising sea levels, partnering with Indigenous groups to restore traditional ecological knowledge, or working with farmers to develop climate-resilient agriculture practices. The possibilities are as diverse as the communities themselves.

Now, the authors of the PNAS paper are realists, not idealistic unicorns prancing through fields of knowledge. They acknowledge that not every suggestion will be a perfect fit for every research context. But they urge their fellow scientists to start somewhere, to identify those entry points where they can begin to weave place-based principles into their work.

Maybe it’s as simple as adding a meaningful land acknowledgment to your next presentation or taking the time to build relationships with local stakeholders before launching into data collection. Or perhaps it’s about advocating for more equitable funding models or pushing your department to prioritize community engagement in their hiring practices. Every step, no matter how small, contributes to a larger cultural shift towards a more just and relational approach to science.

Training the Next Generation of Place-Based Superstars

Let’s be real—changing a system as entrenched as academia is no easy feat. It’s like trying to turn a giant cruise ship around in a bathtub. But it all starts with equipping the next generation of scientists with the skills, perspectives, and, dare I say, the courage to do things differently.

That’s where programs like COMPASS “Leaders for Sea Change” come in, like a superhero training academy for aspiring place-based researchers. These programs bring together brilliant minds from diverse backgrounds, providing them with the tools, networks, and mentorship they need to become agents of change in their respective fields.

Imagine a cohort of young scientists, fired up about marine conservation, learning how to co-design research projects with coastal communities, navigate the complexities of intercultural communication, and become effective advocates for policy changes based on their findings. These are the future leaders who will transform the way we do science, one collaborative project, one meaningful partnership, one paradigm-shifting publication at a time.

The Future of Science: A Call to Embrace Our Place in the World

In a world grappling with unprecedented challenges, we need science more than ever. But we don’t just need any science—we need science that is grounded in place, rooted in relationships, and driven by a deep commitment to justice and equity. The COMPASS crew’s call to action is a rallying cry for researchers at all career stages to step up, slow down, listen up, and embrace the transformative power of place-based research.

By shifting from a mindset of extraction to one of reciprocity, from a culture of competition to one of collaboration, we can unleash the full potential of science to heal our planet, uplift communities, and create a more just and sustainable future for all. So, let’s ditch the hero complex, embrace the messiness of collaboration, and get ready to rewrite the rules of science—together.