Compared to some other areas of science, cancer research is well-funded. Institutes are supported by large grants of public money, derived from charities such as Cancer Research UK or the Wellcome Trust, or from government bodies such as the Medical Research Council. A successful researcher can control many big grants and support large labs of research assistants and graduate students.
Perhaps not coincidentally, cancer research is also an area particularly susceptible to bullying. For example, cancer researcher Prof Nazneen Rahman CBE FMedSci resigned from the Institute of Cancer Research in 2018 after allegations of “serious recurrent bullying and harassment” and “creating an intimidating and humiliating working environment”. She was the PI of multi-million pound grants and ran large teams of biomedical investigators working under her direction. The complaints came from 44 of her current and former staff and students. As reported in The Guardian here, the Wellcome Trust terminated or transferred her grants after significant concerns were raised as to her behaviour. This is remarkable as very few bullies are ever held to account in academia in the UK.
The 21 Group has become aware of a number of ongoing incidents of grave bullying, harassment and mistreatment of junior staff at multiple institutes in the UK engaged in cancer research. Victims of bullying are often junior academics, women in male-dominated fields and members of under-represented and minoritized groups.
We have decided to present the testimony of one victim here:
I have spent more than 20 years in academic research, devoting myself to the pursuit of scientific knowledge and the mentorship of students. My work has centered around advancing our understanding of cancer, a cause I’ve passionately championed, contributing to studies that have helped push the field forward. Over these years, I’ve published high-quality research, mentored countless students, and made it my mission to foster an environment where good science could thrive. But despite my dedication, the past few years have completely unraveled my sense of purpose and belonging in this field.
The ordeal began when I was falsely accused of breaching protocol in a clinical study. I was not the real target, my senior Professor was. I was collateral damage in a wider war. This accusation, if proven, could have led to a serious disciplinary process, threatening not just my reputation but also my entire career. From the beginning, I felt blindsided and misrepresented. The situation was handled poorly, and my work was discussed and judged in ways that were not only deeply unfair but also hurtful. What made this even worse was the fact that I wasn’t given a fair opportunity to defend myself or present my side of the story. The verdict had already been decided behind closed doors, with little regard for due process or the truth.
The university, which I had spent decades being proud to be a part of, failed to protect me or offer any meaningful support. Despite the obvious harm this ordeal has caused me, they insisted that the actions of those involved were not done with malicious intent. According to them, the behaviour didn’t amount to intimidation, harassment, or bullying. But from my perspective, it’s hard to see malicious and false accusations any other way. I’ve felt targeted, isolated, and stripped of my dignity throughout this entire process. The lack of accountability and empathy from those in power has been devastating.
This situation has had a profound impact on my mental health. Years of stress, anxiety, and the feeling of being constantly under attack have taken a toll. My passion for science, which once burned so brightly, has been all but extinguished. The joy and fulfillment I once found in my work have been replaced by dread and exhaustion. Each day has become a battle to keep going, to find the strength to continue, but my love for academia has withered under the weight of this experience.
As I reflect on these last couple of years, it’s difficult for me to envision a future in academia. Regardless of the final outcome of this situation, I no longer see a place for myself here. This ordeal has forced me to confront the reality that the system I once believed in has failed me, and the institution I was proud to call my alma mater has become unrecognizable. After more than two decades of service to the academic community, I am left feeling betrayed, disillusioned, and heartbroken.
The 21 Group thanks the anonymous researcher for describing her experience. We are always interested in presenting accounts of bullying from the victim’s standpoint, please email us at contact@21percent.org
5 Comments
Nano · 14 October 2024 at 17:08
False allegations were standard in my Department
The previous Head of Department just made them up to embroil his enemies in the
disciplinary process
His wife worked for HR, so they were stitched up. It was completely corrupt.
Anonymous · 15 October 2024 at 01:33
I’ve corresponded with some cancer researchers who’ve dealt with this and who were part of this move by the Wellcome Trust. It’s tragic how toxic that field, in particular, is and what irony that these kinds of academic cultures—that support and enable figures like Rahman—begin to so closely resemble a metastasizing cancer taking over an institution or field and become analogous to the disease or problems that they’re trying to mitigate, treat, and cure…
As worthy as finding cures or treatments for cancer or other human diseases is, I think if the end result is that we end up with Rahmans at the helm of fields like cancer research—or any other field, whether it be anthropology or ecology—and their behavior is given carte blanche and incentivized by funding of millions of pounds to the detriment of a healthy organizational culture and the careers of people like the researcher quoted, then the damage is not worth it. The ends never negate the means.
21percent.org · 16 October 2024 at 11:23
Great post
The analogy between bullying & cancer is a good one
Anonymous · 26 October 2024 at 10:46
Universities and research institutes need to clean up their HR departments. Proliferating HR is the real cancer that spreads all over the research environment, introducing absurd regulations, misusing policies, supporting illegal and unethical behaviour, restricting opportunities, exhausting people’s energies in needless processes, compromising mental health and extinguishing enthusiasm for the very thing a university stands for: excellent research and the education of the next generations.
HR seem forever unaccountable for incompetence and malice, opening career doors to the most unsavoury of individuals, and raising urgent questions about the safety of the academic environment.
Anon · 1 November 2024 at 08:43
Just my two cents, but in these cases, I think HR is usually just one of the symptoms of the disease rather than the disease itself. Human resources departments can become blunt instruments of the institution and just another enabler of a top-down problem. The organizational cultures—both managerial and academic—within a university, along with the underlying economic and political stressors, are more often than not the real disease.
If the culture and higher-ups (both managerial and senior academic staff) encourage and enable toxic social norms, like those described in the blog post above by individuals like Rahman, it will trickle down to HR. Then, HR targets whistleblowers and complainants who file complaints, or sometimes not even that—they simply fail (consciously or unconsciously) to address the issue in any meaningful way, allowing the situation to escalate to the point where the target’s health collapses or they leave, or worse.
From what I’ve seen, HR isn’t all bad; its staff may sometimes be very humane, but there can be an intentional myopia built into their jobs, as they are usually implicitly trained to defend the institution and its reputation above all else. They aren’t normally trained to tackle these kinds of issues, identify the dynamics at play, or see targets as anything but liabilities, or perpetrators as being anything but the blue-eyed boy or girl.
Also, there have been cases where HR personnel did stick their necks out and the results were grim. They ended up being mobbed out of the organizations themselves, but some have since become advocates.