Rethinking Slow Science from the Perspective of Warzone Academics
By Anastasiya Leukhina et al.
With its “publish or perish” imperative, stiff competition for grants and positions, and focus on quantifiable output, neoliberal academia breeds fast science. Of course, the pressure to publish quickly is partly motivated by the need to find solutions to the world’s pressing problems. But let’s be honest: In today’s academia, quantity is often prioritized for its own sake—sometimes at the expense of quality.
Of course, “fast” is relative in this game. Gatekeeping procedures like peer review and editing take time, and no one familiar with the academic world would be surprised by a timespan of one to two years from submitting a first draft to publication. However, even these built-in brakes do not alleviate the pressure on scholars to produce quick results.
Many academics have pointed to the need to slow down, emphasizing that good quality academic work takes time. For these authors, slowness is not limited to the pace of writing and publishing, but can be found “before the writing even begins, in research design, community engagement, and the pursuit of personally and politically meaningful work” (Mountz et al. 2015, 1244).
This text attempts to expand the contextual boundaries of understanding slow science. It was born out of a conversation among eight female Ukrainian scholars, each of whom has been affected in their own way by the full-scale Russian invasion. While discussing the speed and quality of academic output, we arrived at the conclusion that the fast vs slow science debate acquires additional nuances in a war zone.
By current academic standards, the text was prepared rather quickly. A little over a month passed from the initial idea for the piece to the moment we agreed upon the content. As a collective effort, we could distribute tasks but also had to adjust to each other’s working paces and personal circumstances. The work on this text reflects the practices of slow science we are advocating for: collaborative work, sensitivity to contexts—collective and personal—and experimentation with formats.

No peace to think
Personal issues affect a person’s ability to meet their professional commitments. As Mountz et al. admit, “Since starting this article, members of this collective have coped with the birth of a child, the loss of a child from miscarriage, divorce, the death of parents, caring for parents with declining health, and other life-changing experiences that have made us unplanned experts in everything from childcare policy to urban transportation and Medicare coverage” (Mountz et al., 1247).
With due respect to all the difficult experiences people have in life, war brings additional, extraordinary challenges. Most of the authors of this piece experienced internal displacement or migration to a foreign country as a result of the full-scale Russian invasion. One author’s university ended up in occupation, while the home institution of another remains on the frontline. One author combines her academic work with combat medic missions at the front. All of the authors who reside in Ukraine (seven out of eight) continue their work despite daily air raids, power outages, and the constant risk of missile or drone attacks. As one of them put it, “the living conditions in which we have to create knowledge are harsh. We can’t sleep at night, we keep worrying about the safety of our relatives—all of this defines the emotional and epistemological landscape we navigate.”
While we do acknowledge our privilege—unlike many former colleagues who left academia, we were at least able to continue our scholarly work—we feel that these circumstances are not paid due regard. With the population of 42 countries affected by violent conflict in 2024, we believe that a greater awareness of these conditions would help to dismantle inequality-reinforcing power structures in the competitive environment of neoliberal academia. We will now take a close look at the specific Ukrainian case.

Ukrainian scholars doubly disadvantaged
The full-scale Russian invasion in 2022 brought experts on and from Ukraine into the limelight: Anyone engaging professionally with Ukrainian affairs was inundated with media requests and invitations to participate in public discussions. At the same time, and somewhat paradoxically, Ukrainian scholars faced a double marginalization.
Scholars of and from Ukraine were asked to deliver their input while reeling from the initial shock of the full-scale war and grappling with dislocation and the conscription of their loved ones. Many felt torn between their professional and civic duties as they tried to combine research with volunteering and providing support to colleagues and friends who had joined the Ukrainian armed forces. Some felt unable to perform in either sphere because of their psychological state or—more mundane— the lack of electricity and a stable internet connection. Three years into the war, many of these conditions are still in place.
The positionality of Ukrainian scholars is another inequality filter. Ukrainian expertise is often perceived as emotionally charged and hence biased and less valid, reflecting a colonial prejudice towards Ukrainians and what Olena Komar calls epistemic injustice, i.e., “a lack of trust in the knowledge of Ukrainians, which arises from the systemic historical fallacy of interpreting colonized peoples through the perspective of the colonizer” (Komar 2024).
The beauty of the scientific process lies in the fact that it is never complete; research findings are always open to revision or refinement in light of new facts. However, in wartime, lack of access to data and limitations on what collection methods can be used impinges on the quality of research. This should be reflected upon and acknowledged. Ukrainian scholars often face the dilemma of producing faster results and having their voices heard or investing time and effort in longer studies at the expense of maintaining visibility.
Hence, warzone scholars must meet the constant demand for knowledge production and dissemination. At a time when Ukrainian academics’ expertise could be particularly impactful, their changed life and work circumstances put them at a significant disadvantage. In this case, slow science is an unavoidable fact of life rather than an advocacy movement. The question is how one can still meaningfully participate in international academia, which does not make any concessions for extraordinary circumstances like living through a war.

What can be done?
Reflecting on our own experiences and those of our colleagues, we propose several steps that different actors can take to support academics working in conflict-affected zones. While recognizing the importance of maintaining high standards, we would like to challenge the dominant neoliberal academic culture of fast science so that researchers forced by circumstances beyond their control to practice slow science can continue to contribute to the international academic discussion and that contribution is recognized as valid.
We believe trauma-informed management is crucial on various levels—for funding and partner institutions, employers like universities, and teams of researchers. It includes efforts to better understand the impact of trauma on performance and foster empathy, clear communication, flexibility, and support.
We agree that a merit-based approach to programming that prioritizes development rather than humanitarian assistance also strengthens the academic field in the long term. Here, donors can build on institutional support programs for individuals (like the Emma Goldman Award) and—even more importantly—collectives that show a commitment to cooperation beyond competition.
Donors and institutions should move from exclusively quantitative approaches, which reflect the growing role of the audit in the “academic culture of performativity” (Pereira 2017), to more flexible criteria for evaluating the work of scientists. Assessment could, for example, take the form of expert discussions and less formal conversation spaces where scholars and donors can freely share their thoughts on the collaboration experience. We are convinced that creating spaces for informal communication is an important step to building more sustainable interaction between different participants in the research process.
Research findings can be presented differently to different audiences. We therefore encourage publishers to be open to innovative formats and urge scientists to experiment with communicating their findings in unconventional ways (e.g., via research notes, blogs, podcasts, interviews, etc.). This is also about finding mechanisms to value scholars’ contributions without imposing rigid quantity requirements.
Lastly, we advocate for self-care in research practices and interactions at all levels. In an unfolding violent conflict, psychological support to maintain a resilient workforce is crucial. The same goes for fair pay and the possibility of taking a vacation or sick leave. Research is an inherently collaborative effort, and we must once again acknowledge the role of support and solidarity in advancing it.
References
Naomi Oreskes, “The Dangers of Fast Science,” Scientific American, March 19, 2024, https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/the-dangers-of-fast-science/
Slow Science Manifesto, https://acofacien.org/images/files/BIBLIOTECA/Poliiticas_educacion_superior/SLOW%20SCIENCE%20MANIFESTO.pdf
Maria do Mar Pereira, “Too Tired to Think: On (not) Producing Feminist Knowledge in the Hyper-Productive University”, Talk at the University of York, February 2018.
Mountz, A., Bonds, A., Mansfield, B., Loyd, J., Hyndman, J., Walton-Roberts, M., Curran, W., “For Slow Scholarship: A Feminist Politics of Resistance through Collective Action in the Neoliberal University,” ACME: An International Journal for Critical Geographies, 14(4) (2015), 1235–1259. https://doi.org/10.14288/acme.v14i4.1058
Olena Komar, “An Angry Ukrainian Syndrome: Stereotypes about War, Peace, and Injustice,” TRAFO Blog for Transregional Research, September 19, 2024 https://trafo.hypotheses.org/52545
Maria do Mar Pereira, Power, Knowledge and Feminist Scholarship: An Ethnography of Academia (Routledge, 2017).
About the Authors
Anastasiya Leukhina, Natalia Lomonosova, Natalia Otrishchenko, Maryna Rabinovych, Hanna Shvindina, Olena Strelnyk, Natalia Tsibulyak, Daria Yashkina, and Kateryna Zarembo are Ukrainian researchers from various disciplines within the social sciences, international relations, gender studies, oral history and education. Anastasiya Leukhina is the UNET Coordinator at the Centre for East European and International Studies (ZOiS) in Berlin, while the remaining authors are UNET Fellows in the 2024/2025 academic year. UNET (Ukraine Research Network) is supported by the German Federal Ministry of Education and Research.
Other recent articles in the TRAFO series Rethinking East European Studies in Times of Upheaval:
Tomasz Hen-Konarski, The Bells of Klevan′: Was the Polish-Lithuanian Rule in Rus′ a Form of Colonial Oppression?, 15.10.2024.
Olena Komar, An Angry Ukrainian Syndrome: Stereotypes About War, Peace, and Injustice, 10.09.2024.
Julia Buyskykh, Enduring Through Liminality: Across and Beyond the Borders of Eastern Europe in the Wartime, 13.08.2024.
Citation: Anastasiya Leukhina et al., Rethinking Slow Science from the Perspective of Warzone Academics, in: TRAFO – Blog for Transregional Research, 17.04.2025, https://trafo.hypotheses.org/56755
OpenEdition suggests that you cite this post as follows:
Forum Transregionale Studien (April 17, 2025). Rethinking Slow Science from the Perspective of Warzone Academics. TRAFO – Blog for Transregional Research. Retrieved May 19, 2025 from https://doi.org/10.58079/13rlz