What Is Academic Kindness—and Why Does It Matter to Me?
Academic kindness means different things to different people. For me, it’s not about being overly permissive or avoiding hard conversations. It’s about being clear, fair, and respectful. It’s about holding high standards while recognizing the humanity of the people we work with. It’s about setting boundaries and being supportive—not either/or. In short, it’s about cultivating an environment where people can thrive, not just survive.
As a principal investigator, I see kindness not as a “nice-to-have” or a personal trait, but as a deliberate practice—a leadership value that shapes how we build teams, mentor others, and conduct our science. I believe that psychological safety is essential for excellence. People do their best work when they feel safe to speak up, ask questions, challenge assumptions, and admit when they don’t know something. That kind of openness doesn’t happen by accident; it takes intention, trust, and consistency.
In our lab, we try to embody these values in practical ways. One example is our lab culture document. It outlines our shared expectations, how we communicate, and what kind of environment we’re trying to create. Every new member reads it, and more importantly, has the opportunity to suggest edits. We revisit it together regularly—not as a box-ticking exercise, but as a living agreement that evolves as we do.
When I make decisions—whether about projects, authorship, or timelines—I try to explain the “why” behind them and invite input. While the final call often rests with me, I want everyone in the lab to feel heard and respected. Leadership, to me, isn’t about having all the answers—it’s about listening carefully, making thoughtful choices, and creating space for others to contribute meaningfully.
One practice I’ve found especially helpful is stepping back when I feel frustration or anger—particularly in moments that don’t require an immediate response. Instead of reacting on impulse, I take time to reflect: Why did that upset me? What expectations weren’t met? What might the other person be experiencing? This doesn’t mean avoiding difficult conversations—it means approaching them with care. I’ll often follow up with a conversation where I explain my perspective, listen actively, and focus on what we can learn or do differently moving forward. It’s not always easy—especially on busy, high-pressure days—but I’ve found that this approach builds trust and mutual understanding over time.
Of course, things don’t always go smoothly. Mistakes happen. Misunderstandings occur. But I’m proud to work with a team that shares a commitment to honest, respectful dialogue and a culture of continuous growth.
In light of Mental Health Awareness Week (starting May 19), I’ve been reflecting more deeply on what academic kindness really looks like in day-to-day practice. It’s not about being endlessly agreeable or soft-spoken. It’s about creating a climate where people can be themselves, take intellectual risks, and feel supported through both successes and setbacks. It’s about treating each other like whole people, not just producers of data or lines on a CV.
Academic kindness is not just about being “nice”—it’s about building a system where we can all do better science, better mentoring, and better living. That’s how we grow. That’s how we lead. And that’s how we care for one another.
I’d love to hear your thoughts—what does academic kindness mean to you?