Erin LaBrecque

Robin Baird

Annie Gorgone

Courtney Smith

Dear MARMAN community,

I am an early career scientist from an underrepresented minority who is currently an unpaid intern. I have been disheartened by the status quo of unpaid experience in the field for several years. I am reaching out in response to Phil Clapham and Paul Dayton, both of whom dismiss critical discussions to reform a system from which they continue to benefit, and who are biased by their interactions with success stories: like Eric Archer suggests, we do not hear from those who had to choose putting food on the table over contributing to a field they love. Here, I offer a perspective from a contemporary unpaid worker. The expectation of unpaid work in marine mammal science actively discourages bright, passionate, and hardworking students, especially minorities, from reaching their potential and bringing valuable insights to our field.

Of all the disciplines in biology, ecology and evolution remains a sub-field with especially poor racial diversity (e.g. O’Brien et al. 2020, Social Psychology of Education). Phil Clapham pins the crux of the issue on a lack of early exposure to science, yet marine mammals are undeniably charismatic and interesting to the public. Surely, if interest from middle school students was the main cause of underrepresentation in MARMAM, we should at least be doing as well as the field of molecular biology (with its core concepts that are much harder to comprehend) in terms of diversity. Middle schoolers dreaming of becoming marine biologists was so common in my generation that it became a cliché. We should absolutely strive for greater public engagement with science, but a lack of interest from young students is certainly not the greatest barrier to entry for minorities entering our field.

I have worked unpaid alongside two types of people who are serious about marine mammal research: those who are supported by their families while they work without pay, and those who must find ways to support themselves. It is not uncommon for the former to spend over a year gaining a diversity of (often international) consecutive experiences, while the latter saves up money for years to afford to work for free for a few months, then repeats the cycle again (assuming that they have not moved on by this point). As someone who fits more into the latter group, I do not see how I can compete with the former, especially given that paid job postings demand years, not weeks or months of direct experience. Not to mention the sheer impossibility of working unpaid while being financially responsible for other family members! Unfortunately, members of racial minorities disproportionately find themselves in this position regardless of their grit or competence. I am glad Paul Dayton has mentored minority students during his tenure, but I suspect that he has interacted with exceptions, not the rule. The staff pages of research institutions do not show the diversity that he claims exists, and I am inclined to believe Eric Archer, an actual Black marine scientist, when he affirms the existence of these barriers.

Phil Clapham rightly points out that many research programs struggle for funding, but when I think of “small underfunded non-profits,” my mind does not go to prestigious institutions like the Smithsonian or Scripps. To put it bluntly, if even these organisations are barely scraping by and relying on unpaid workers to complete essential tasks, maybe we need to rethink our models for conducting research. Perhaps a diversity of solutions are needed, but it is absolutely an urgent discussion that we should be having openly, and I appreciate that Eiren Jacobson’s letter has brought the issue of unpaid work to the forefront. Even more modest initiatives, like capping the number of volunteer hours allowed per week or ensuring that full-time field work at least covers living expenses can make a big difference to would-be applicants. Some smaller organisations may well have no choice but to rely on “internship fees,” but let us call it what it is: edutourism or ecotourism.

We all chose to be marine scientists because we love and want to protect the ocean. Not one of us is a scientist because it is lucrative, but if we want new and interesting perspectives, entrants to the field must be able to make a living. The plight of marine mammals grows more urgent every day, and we desperately need a diversity of expertise if we are to tackle these global issues. That starts with finding ways to encourage historically excluded members of society to meaningfully participate in research and outreach, beyond a short volunteer stint. I want to remind those who think this is a minority opinion that people in my position are not likely to speak out for fear of alienating those we want to work with. I truly hope to one day work to improve the field from the inside, but for now I have no choice but to focus on a backup career plan because unfortunately, I cannot survive on great mentorship and passion alone.

Anonymous