One of the main perks of being a researcher is that it’s a job that can take you anywhere. In my decade of experience as a researcher (in so-called “industry” and in academia), I have been fortunate that my work has taken me to several countries around the world, for various meetings, courses and conferences. Most recently, I got the opportunity to spend six months as a visiting researcher at the Life Course Centre, based at the University of Queensland in Brisbane, Australia. More than ever, this experience made me reflect on the nature of research that crosses (geographical) borders, who gets to do it, who loses out and who profits.
Mobility is a privilege. Mobility across borders is also deeply political, especially in academia. Others have written with much more eloquence than I can muster on the passport privileges enjoyed by academics in the global north, and the compounded effects of being an academic from the global south who often faces barriers to travel on multiple fronts. These barriers are not only financial or bureaucratic. They are embedded in visa systems that are often inconsistent and opaque. The job insecurity, an increasingly common feature of a career in academia, renders academics with “weak” passports even more precarious than their counterparts holding stronger passports. In recent years, even researchers who have overcome the often insurmountable barriers and gained positions at prestigious institutions have faced sudden policy changes that jeopardize their ability to remain and work, having their visas revoked and their funding cut without any real notice.
How ironic that researchers from African countries face particularly high barriers to access research opportunities in the global north, when we consider how many academics from the global north have been able to conduct research in the African region. How many academics from the global north have received grants, published papers and built their reputations based on their research in the global south, where they would travel to for several months, maybe even a few years, then leave as an “expert” on contexts they only temporarily inhabited—what is often referred to as “parachute science“? Meanwhile, researchers in the global south have trouble getting a visa to attend even a conference in the global north for just a few days, to the point where entire conversations now exist about choosing “visa-friendly” conference locations to encourage more inclusive participation.
Look, I understand also the irony of me, being a researcher holding a passport issued by a country in the global south, coming to Australia for a few months to do research using Australian data and then leaving, commenting on researchers from the global north doing essentially the same thing. I am aware of the opportunities and circumstances that have afforded me this privilege—I just don’t think it should be this hard for some to get this kind of experience and so easy for many others. As a researcher focusing on health inequities, the geographic birth lottery seems to be one of the major drivers of global inequalities, through what’s sometimes called the “citizenship premium“. What’s frustrating to me is that I think this driver (dare I say “cause”?) can absolutely be addressed—if only we were willing to forgo systems of selective rights and access based on country of birth, in a system where the ability to move is closely tied to whose knowledge gets produced and recognized.
Finally, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that my research stay in Brisbane would not have been possible without the funding support of the Swiss National Science Foundation, which provided the grant for the project I am working on for my PhD. At a time when research funding is becoming increasingly constrained, I want to emphasize how enriching this experience has been for me, not just as a researcher but also as a person navigating this world. But it is fair to ask why public funding should support what appears to be an individual experience. Why should Swiss taxpayers fund my research, a Malaysian researcher working across contexts like the US and Australia, without an obvious benefit for the Swiss public? This is a valid question. But it rests on the assumption that research and its benefits are contained within national borders. They are not. The opportunity to work across contexts changes the kinds of questions we ask and the ways we interpret them, as I have learned in my time here in Brisbane. The production of knowledge is inherently global, even if access to it is not. Restricting opportunities for cross-border research doesn’t protect national interests, it limits the diversity of perspectives that shape what we come to know and whose knowledge is recognized. Expanding these opportunities, then, is not an act of generosity, but a condition for producing more equitable and meaningful knowledge.