From psychology to population health

I originally chose to study psychology for two reasons: I have always been fascinated by people — how we think, feel, behave, and relate to one another — and I wanted to spend my working life doing something that could make a positive difference.

Over time, my interests began to shift from understanding individuals to understanding the broader circumstances that shape their lives. Many questions about mental health cannot be answered by looking at individuals alone. The social, economic, and political environments in which people grow up and live matter, too.

This gradually led me toward epidemiology and population health science. I became increasingly interested not only in what makes people ill or healthy, but also in why health is distributed so unequally, which risks could be prevented, and how societies might be organized to support healthier and happier lives.

Along the way, I also developed an appreciation for statistics and research methodology. Asking interesting questions is one thing; finding ways to answer them reliably, while recognizing the limitations of the evidence, is another.

What keeps me curious

One question underlying much of my interest in population health is surprisingly simple: What would we do differently if improving people’s health and well-being were genuinely among the central goals of public policy?

That raises many smaller questions. How much of the variation in health between people and countries is preventable? Which social conditions matter most? And how can we use data to distinguish policies that actually improve lives from those that merely sound promising?

I don’t think research can answer all of these questions, but I find it exciting that it can help us approach them more systematically.

A few things I’ve learned about research

One thing I’ve learned is that research careers are not built through hard work alone. Academic environments are full of capable, dedicated people.

Much of my involvement in collaborative research began simply by reaching out to people. There have been far more unanswered messages and rejections than successes. But the few that worked out have made an enormous difference. I’ve learned that opportunities rarely just appear, and that asking is often worth the risk of being told no.

I’ve also become more aware of how unequally accessible academic careers can be. Expectations of constant availability, long working hours, and geographic mobility are particularly difficult to reconcile with family life and caring responsibilities. As a mother, I’ve become particularly aware of how having a family is treated as a disadvantage in a career that supposedly values knowledge and ability. The ability to work on a Saturday is not a measure of scientific talent. Neither is the ability to move countries at short notice or accept months of poorly paid work.

I think good science benefits from people with different backgrounds, experiences, and ways of thinking, and from working environments that allow them to participate.