Philipp Gramlich and Karin Bodewits are founders of Natural Science Careers - a company for career counseling and soft skills seminars for natural scientists. For the Nachrichten aus der Chemie, both write about observations from their consulting work.
I'm in a seminar room where doctoral candidates are practicing their poster presentations. In a few days, they'll be presenting their work to the reviewers of their Collaborative Research Center (CRC) – the tension is palpable. I understand some presentations immediately, others remain unclear. This doesn't depend on the complexity of the research, but rather on whether the doctoral candidates take my prior knowledge – or lack thereof – into account.
The reviewers are scientists from different disciplines than the presenters, meaning they are not experts in the field, but they are not laypeople. This difference is often more significant than we realize. Within our field, we have extensive internal frames of reference. A materials scientist, for example, has encountered hundreds of material systems. Whether alloys, composites, or blends: each system is associated with a set of properties.
When this expert is presented with a new material, she connects it to something familiar: 'This resembles this class of polymers, apart from the interfacial behavior.' She absorbs new information through comparisons. Ambiguities or inconsistencies within her own field pique her curiosity about new insights that lie at the edges of our current knowledge.
Remember the last time you were bombarded with seemingly unrelated information that you couldn't make sense of? Those outside the field lack the necessary condensed background knowledge. For them, every detail initially seems equally important; parameters compete instead of complementing each other. Contradictions and ambiguity lead to confusion rather than productive thinking.
Returning to the poster presentations: The most understandable ones were not the most simplified, but those that offered me guidance in classifying the unknown.
Stories, analogies, and metaphors are central here – not as decoration, but as the cornerstones of thought. They create associations, provide points of reference, and a temporary framework. Building on this, complex content can follow without overwhelming the listeners.
When doctoral candidates present their research to the SFB reviewers, they face two challenges: first, addressing those outside their field with the presentation, and then, if necessary, switching gears to the expert. Apply the same approach to your science communication.
Karin Bodewits, k.bodewits@naturalscience.careers
“I thought it was an April Fool’s joke,” begins Roland, who is sitting across from me in a consultation. I am supposed to help him reorient himself professionally.
For many decades, the chemical industry in Germany was a reliable partner. Employees could spend their entire working lives at a single company. Salaries were negotiated with the union without strikes. Cooperations with universities fostered mutual understanding and smooth career paths. Dismissals only occurred in cases of theft of company assets or as an April Fool's joke.
But now his employer, a large chemical company, has actually laid Roland off. "I have to deal with a scenario that was previously unimaginable and therefore played no role for me," Roland confesses to me.
The job market is becoming increasingly bleak. After three years of economic weakness and global uncertainty, chemists are losing positions that were previously considered the private sector equivalent of civil servant status.
The Management of such companies faces new challenges. They must protect their reputation as reliable employers and confront reality. In cases of staff reductions, which can even affect permanent employees, companies can offer severance packages and support for new career paths, for example, in the form of outplacement coaching.
As an employee, you should take action early. Regular networking increases the chance of anticipating problems and taking countermeasures.
If you are offered a termination agreement, you can read this column [Nachr. Chem. 2017, 65(5), 569] to decide whether it makes sense to accept it in your situation. If you are offered coaching, don't be falsely proud. Regardless of how successful you have been so far, an external perspective can help you better understand your situation. But: No coach can open doors to HR managers. Coaches offer help for self-help.
What should you look for when choosing a coach? All coaches have different specializations. First, analyze yourself to identify your needs, whether it's guidance in the job market, mental support, or skills like networking and negotiation. You can then search specifically for coaches with these specializations. After a free introductory meeting, don't rush your decision so that your choice is based on your needs and not on the coach's charisma.
Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers
The title of your poster or presentation can determine whether you have to spend your poster session alone. Legible from a distance of ten meters, it is the first point of contact between your science and the throng of conference attendees.
Poster sessions are survival of the fittest in its purest form. Dozens, sometimes hundreds, of posters compete for the limited attention of the other conference attendees. Unclear titles? No chance. Monotonous titles? Get rid of them. Titles that sound like your dissertation filename? Run!
The same applies to presentations: a bad title is not a death sentence, but you start with a handicap.
What exactly makes a bad title? Take, for example, the neutral anesthetic: "Investigation of the WaaA Protein." Congratulations. You've found a title that neither asks a question nor makes a statement. It simply exists. Or consider specialized jargon. This might be effective within your community, but it puts people outside off. Interdisciplinary collaborations die a quiet death here.
What makes a good title: for example, a question. "Is WaaA the protein that regulates X?" Questions pique your audience's curiosity and invite them to think along. Statements are also good: "WaaA regulates X." You've discovered something. Share it.
How do you find a good headline? In my workshops, I use the tabloid newspaper technique. It's simple:
First, take your original title, for example, "Characterization of the Function of WaaA." Then imagine how a tabloid newspaper like Bild would report on your research. What headline would they use? "Researchers Find Protein That Decides Between Life and Death in Bacteria!" That seems exaggerated at first. So, in the final step, tone it down slightly. How can you phrase it scientifically without losing the hook? "A key protein controls vital processes in Gram-negative bacteria."
Suddenly your title is understandable, and people stop to look at your poster – perhaps even those from a different discipline.
Your title must spark interest. The details will come later – on the poster, during the lecture, in conversation. Without a compelling title, no one will find their way to those details.
Karin Bodewits, k.bodewits@naturalscience.careers
I was a year and a half into my postdoc when I realized: we were at a dead end. We wanted to create a molecular machine, a supramolecular system that could perform synthesis on its own. But even smaller test systems required 15 to 20 preparative steps. And as soon as we had enough material for testing, the disappointment was huge – the molecular machine didn't work.
I had the feeling that something fundamental had to change. So I went home and thought about it, read, and thought some more. After three days away from the lab, I found two publications in journals that I wasn't normally interested in. They showed me: Our machine was running in the wrong direction! This led to an unstable intermediate stage in the reaction sequence. So we simply had to design the machine to run in reverse.
Had my supervisor been a micromanager, this realization would have taken longer. But my supervisor trusted his team and therefore didn't force us to come to the lab every day. That was the crucial factor in the project's success. At the institute, I wouldn't have found the peace and quiet to bury myself for days on end in sometimes obscure articles.
Employers can draw the following conclusion from this episode: Trust your employees and don't establish a culture of non-attendance in the first place. If there's a concrete reason why work can only function with physical presence, then that's how it has to be. If you demand attendance simply because that's how it's always been done, then conduct an experiment: Can it work without physical contact? You'll then have to measure work performance instead of attendance. This is more difficult, but it also yields greater benefits for everyone involved.
Employees can ask themselves whether their presence is truly expected or whether they are simply imposing it on themselves. Especially in academic research—where it takes a long time to make successes measurable—researchers often put themselves under pressure to demonstrate their commitment through long working hours. When choosing an employer, you can use a culture of low attendance as a selection criterion—fortunately, word gets around. If you already have a job, negotiate your flexibility during your annual review. Often, it's a win-win situation when you can work freely and creatively.
Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers
Guides on the topic of "You and Your Career" almost always contain the knee-jerk advice "Be yourself." But is that actually true?
Let's start with a situation where we're usually not very authentic: the job interview. Imagine you're representing the employer and are currently at a low point in your motivation due to some interpersonal conflicts within your company. If the candidate asks about the work atmosphere, you most likely wouldn't bring up your own problems but would instead describe the employer in general terms. It's therefore a normal part of such an interview to present a certain side of yourself: the highly focused, tactically astute, professional you. Everyone involved knows these rules of engagement and will evaluate your behavior within this context.
This professional facade only becomes a problem if you pretend to be someone you're not. As an applicant, the hiring manager would likely notice. And if you were successful, you could receive an offer for a position that isn't right for you.
In everyday work life, it would be impossible, or at least unhealthy, to constantly wear a mask. You should find a job where that's unnecessary. Nevertheless, you have a certain role to fulfill—just like in every other situation in your life. As the father of my children, I behave differently than in the role of son, passenger, first responder, or employee. This isn't unnatural, but rather a perfectly normal adaptation to the respective circumstances. When I'm asked in workshops how to find a job where you can be 100 percent authentic, I like to say: "If you acted completely authentically, you wouldn't even show up for the interview, because that takes courage."
If your work suits you, you'll likely never even notice the role you're playing in most situations. However, if you constantly feel like you're being watched or can't be yourself, that could be a warning sign. Can you talk to your boss or a trusted colleague and reflect on your thoughts? Perhaps you're perceiving expectations of you that don't actually exist? Or are you with an employer or in a position that isn't right for you? If so, take your gut feeling seriously and explore where you can be more yourself.
Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers
In 2005, I was toying with the idea of writing my diploma thesis with the newly appointed professor at our institute – but when I told my internship supervisor, Jan, about it, I was met with disdain. "Okay, so after a few standard syntheses, you just throw everything into the DNA synthesizer and get a few milligrams of DNA out. And then what?" the experienced doctoral student whispered to me. I countered that there were exciting interdisciplinary questions that the newly minted Leibniz awardee would be addressing with those small amounts of DNA. That was true, Jan replied, and "the new professor can write some great papers with it. But what good will that do for your Career?" The central distinguishing feature of chemists, he argued, is that no one else can synthesize and characterize molecules and other chemical substances.
Fast forward to the present. For a long time, there was speculation about how artificial intelligence (AI) would change our working lives – for the past three years, ChatGPT and similar programs have been demonstrating the reality. These models can now perform almost anything that can be easily parameterized far better than the smartest and most experienced humans. In the age of AI, the question arises: Is our unique selling point as chemists still one? After all, chemical bonds and reactions can be parameterized exceptionally well.
With the introduction of ATMs, surprisingly more bankers were hired: not to count money, but to provide advice. This kind of revaluation of our human labor is evident again now. "I save so much time with ChatGPT," a doctor friend tells me. Determining drug interactions was a real time-waster for her, and AI can help with that. As in many other professions, AI can generate time. This has a positive impact on profitability and patient care.
The old adage was that high-tech and high-touch professions—those involving intensive human contact—are difficult to replace. Chemists remain valuable in the high-tech sector because chemistry is so central to all scientific disciplines that it allows for the construction of many bridges and the development of new ideas. Chemists whose work involves direct interaction with people, such as in sales or communication roles, also remain difficult to replace.
So, when it comes to AI and the future of work, think in terms of possibilities rather than nightmare scenarios. And always look for creative, unique human strengths.
Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers
Science belongs online; that's almost a given today. Studies show that work shared on social media is cited more frequently. Platforms like Bluesky, LinkedIn, and others bring research to the attention of journalists, support public relations , and many funding organizations now expect research consortia to have a presence there. In short: anyone who wants reach and needs funding can hardly ignore social media.
A social media post can sometimes reach a wider audience than a conference presentation. A short lab video on Instagram captivates colleagues and laypeople alike. Outreach becomes measurable: followers, clicks, likes, shares. And these figures can be used directly in grant applications or final reports.
At the same time, it's true that many researchers simply have no interest in social media. And those who do try it quickly realize: it's a time sink. Added to this is the Fear of Missing Out (FOMO), which affects scientists just as much as everyone else. Relevant reach doesn't happen overnight. Visibility requires interaction – replies, comments, discussions – and therefore a lot of time. Those who have to painstakingly build a following over years quickly end up spending more energy scrolling than on research. Social media then feels like a second job. Except that the real job – experiments, manuscripts, and grant applications – gets neglected.
But there's good news. Nobody has to do everything alone. And you can reach people via social media without being active on every platform yourself. Many universities and research consortia operate their own social media channels. Simply forward the publication – and the responsible team will take care of promoting it. Or there might be someone on the author list who is already active and happy to share the work. And those who want to reach a less specialized audience with their research can leverage the reach of others: science influencers with thousands of followers are constantly on the lookout for ideas. Content in exchange for reach – a classic win-win.
Ensure your research is noticed beyond the ivory tower. Nothing is mandatory, everything is possible. Feel free to incorporate your own preferences, and that's precisely what can make these communication channels appealing. Don't let the fear of missing out (FOMO) stress you out; instead, embrace the joy of missing out (JOMO). You decide how you spend your time – and that includes slowing down through focused research.
Karin Bodewits, k.bodewits@naturalscience.careers
In a presentation workshop, we look at Valters' presentation, which he created for his industrial internship. He presents in a lively and engaging way, but his slides contradict what we discussed in the workshop. I cautiously inquire: "Did you have to use a template, or did you design it yourself?" "It's the company's corporate design," he replies, "cute but useless."
At first glance, the slides are quite appealing: not overloaded, the colors harmonize, there are even uniform symbols for standard processes.
The corporate design includes a wide, beige band in the background of the slide – a weakness of the template. The band looks innocuous, running unobtrusively across the left half of the slide. But it's not just background: If elements are placed over it, contrast is lost. If the band is omitted, only the right half of the slide remains for information.
“What is the function of the title slide?” I ask, moving on to my second point of criticism. “I have to list all the people and departments involved, as well as show the logos of the products in question.” Valters makes no secret of his dislike for the template. The entire content of the title slide can be moved to the acknowledgments, the penultimate slide. The final slide should be the summary, intended to spark discussion.
"The company logo is in the top left corner of every slide. What would be a better position for it?" I ask the group. Anna's hand shoots up: "After everything we've discussed so far, I'd say the trash can." Not bad – and if that's not possible, the acknowledgments slide could be a compromise. It's a common template sin to plaster the most prominent position on every single slide with a redundant logo.
All the problems I'm addressing point to the same thing: the organization puts itself first, not its audience. If you want to serve your listeners, simply ditch all the corporate nonsense. A headline color that appears in the logo is more subtle and perfectly sufficient to stand out.
As presenters, we are often forced to use poor templates. We can advocate for changes, but the main responsibility lies with the communications departments: Focus on the audience.
Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers
The recession Germany is experiencing is not a crash like the one following the Lehman Brothers collapse. Instead, it seems to be dragging on endlessly, like chewing gum. More and more early-career researchers are reacting to the real and anticipated economic difficulties by seeking the relatively safe haven of a postdoctoral position. This is because research funding is committed for several years, making it appear as a rock in turbulent times.
Whether things will look brighter in two years than they do today is impossible to predict. A postdoc tactic might therefore only postpone the problem. If you do choose the postdoc route, please only do so if you actively work on developing marketable skills and building a broad network during that time.
Entering the supposedly safe haven of a postdoc position isn't the only option. There are a few levers we can pull to succeed in an increasingly competitive job market: employer branding, location, and your field of expertise.
The size of an employer, and closely linked to their reputation, is the dominant factor determining the level of competition. One of my colleagues worked for a medium-sized biotech company. When a large corporation acquired it, the number of applications exploded virtually overnight – even though salaries decreased as a result of the acquisition. Smaller companies also tend to experience the most significant job growth.
The second factor is geography. Metropolitan areas and their employers are popular with young applicants. Consider the geographical radius within which you are willing to search.
The third factor is the type of work. You have an academic degree, so a research and development position seems like a natural fit. Most people think this, which is why these jobs are often highly competitive. Determine why you're drawn to such positions. For example, do you value the intellectual stimulation or the freedom of academic work? Take an open-minded look at the job market and search for all positions that can offer you these things.
Question whether your job search truly reflects your own interests. If you don't reflect on your own desires, then you're looking for your happiness where most others are.
Karin Bodewits, k.bodewits@naturalscience.careers
In a workshop on networking, we first look at profiles on professional social media like LinkedIn. Then I want to know what other networking activities the participants engage in. Finally, I ask them where they plan to pursue their careers after completing their doctorate or postdoc. Yannis takes the floor: "I'd like to go into the chemical industry immediately after completing my doctorate."
Yannis has described his previous experience in a clear and understandable way on his LinkedIn profile. He attends conferences recommended by his boss, where he presents the results of his research to an expert audience.
"You show what you've done so far, but not where you want to develop," I say. And he's not an isolated case. Most participants proceed in the same way.
On social media and in our application documents, we can describe ourselves in such a way that we become relevant and discoverable for our desired network partners and employers. An "Open to work" badge above the profile picture isn't enough. For example, after a long postdoc, Sarah wanted to move into industry. During her postdoc, she did preparatory work for her supervisor on a spin-off. Instead of omitting this, in her view, unsuccessful experience, she could describe it in her CV for applications and on social media: "Feasibility study for a spin-off from Prof. Mayer's working group ." While her profile immediately shows that she has a strong academic background, employers in industry are more interested in whether she can also function in a non-academic environment and are happy if Sarah gives more space to these experiences.
You also have freedom in choosing what you do and how you do it within your network. Are you interested in collaborating with industry? Then look for conferences or other networking events where delegates from academia and industry meet. Is there someone specific you want to meet there? Then look for overlaps with other delegates in advance. Do you share interests with your target person that you can use as starting points for a conversation? Is there someone in your network who could connect you with them?
With a little thought, preparation, and creativity, you can actively manage the development of your network and align it with your personal goals.
Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers
"Hey Dad, do you know the dumbest statement of all time?" one of my sons asks me at the dinner table. Before I can express my suspicions, he blurts out: "100 is a big number." He acknowledges my stunned expression with a triumphant grin. I reply: "If I may make a guess, I suspect it's not the dumbest statement in the world. However, it is one of the most common of the dumb statements."
The afternoon before this meeting, I gave feedback on a presentation to a scientist from a renowned pharmaceutical company. When we got to the inevitable wow slide of the company's self-presentation, I thought, "Not again!" Why? The presentation was aimed at graduates whose interest in the company was to be piqued. The slide contained a series of large numbers without context, such as: "5 billion euros research budget." Although this amount sounds enormous, it doesn't initially convey anything. During the consultation, we worked out how to bring this number to life. What percentage of revenue goes into research, and how does this percentage compare to the competition? Even non-experts can make sense of this information.
My son, with his childlike naivety—or his intuitive instinct—recognized that numbers without context are meaningless. This is evident in all areas of life. In Germany, 100,000 birds die annually from collisions with wind turbines. That sounds like a lot, but estimates suggest that a thousand times more birds are killed by domestic cats. And they don't contribute to the energy transition.
When applying for a job, the private sector in particular loves it when you express your value in numbers. Here, you should estimate who will be reading your application and, if in doubt, provide more context. Just imagine a twelve-year-old looking over your shoulder while you write your resume: If you describe how your ideas helped you speed up a project by two months, you'll get away with it. "Sales of goods worth 10 million euros," on the other hand, wouldn't pass the test.
Philipp Gramlich, p.gramlich@naturalscience.careers
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last modified: 06.05.2026 09:59 H from N/A
