Sexual harassment, racial discrimination and other types of misconduct are often kept secret in the hierarchically structured system of higher education.
The victims of such conduct – which also includes bullying and emotional abuse – are often situated in the lower ranks of the hierarchy; trainees and students, who rely on their mentors for recommendation letters and opportunities to publish, rarely feel able to report misconduct for fear of backlash. Students of colour are especially vulnerable.
The National Institutes of Health (NIH) recently released a report describing the misconduct by principal investigators it has documented since 2018. Overall, the agency has received more than 300 complaints, resulting in 75 PIs losing their funding and 61 leaving their institutions. These results are significant because prior to 2018 – when the NIH responded to the #MeToo movement by encouraging victims to file complaints – no PI had lost their funding as a result of misconduct.
This level of accountability is long overdue, but the data show that we still have a long way to go. For example, there were relatively few complaints overall, particularly in the areas of racial discrimination and bullying. This may suggest that there is either a lack of awareness that such transgressions can be reported or a real fear of retaliation. Another troubling finding is that only a small percentage of institutions took the investigation to the next level once informed of the misconduct by the NIH.
These data suggest that a full overhaul of the academic environment is warranted. The current structure may serve to promote and even reinforce an abusive and toxic workplace. The fact that universities depend on grant dollars to survive makes it relatively easy for a high-ranking professor with large grants to get away with serious misconduct; the more money they bring in, the less likely they are to be scrutinised.
I myself have witnessed PIs who pit their trainees against each other, criticise them publicly without cause, consistently change expectations, take credit for their work and successes, inexplicably cycle through periods of praising and then despising them, and unjustifiably threaten to take away funding.
Such persistent, unexpected attacks mean that the victims live in a constant state of learned helplessness. They feel stuck, confused and scared every day, with inevitable consequences for their mental health.
This lived experience has made it clear to me why it is hard to report a toxic work environment in academia. There are no university policies to protect trainees and students from this type of misconduct. Title IX laws and other policies exist to protect university employees and students from sexual misconduct and racial discrimination, yet even when reported, many PIs face few to no consequences. Further, other forms of misconduct, such as emotional abuse, are often left completely out of university codes of conduct.
Public praise of their work only cements abusive professors’ position further, while their outward presentation can make it difficult to believe that anything inappropriate is going on behind closed doors. Without consequences, these professors continue to be competitive for raises, promotions and federal grant dollars. Perhaps most alarmingly, they remain eligible to admit new students.
Universities and funding agencies must put an end to this culture of mistreatment. The NIH has taken the first step, but universities need to make it widely known among their staff and students that abuse can be reported – and they must take these complaints seriously.
Universities should develop clear policies that hold faculty accountable for toxic work environments and abusive behaviour, including a requirement to report complaints directly to funding agencies. Second, they should provide trainees with a safe space to report grievances confidentially. And, third, they should include trainee evaluations of mentors as a standard component of tenure, promotion and salary reviews.
Most importantly, the academic community – particularly those members who have more power than students – must be brave enough to report the misconduct of their colleagues. It may take time to dismantle the oppressive systems hidden within the academic hierarchy; in the meantime, it is our responsibility to hold our colleagues to account and to protect the health and mental health of our trainees.
Joanna Buscemi is a clinical psychologist and an assistant professor in the department of psychology at DePaul University, Chicago.
