About a year ago, I found myself enthusiastically telling a room of undergraduate students about a fellow researcher who I admire. I talked about her writing, her advocacy and how she used her research to push for change in our shared field of feminist psychology. A hand shot up from the lecture theatre: “Does she know?” the student asked.

Of course I hadn’t told her, I simply admired from a distance. I told a room full of students how important her writing is, I put her on reading lists, I cited her research in my papers. But the person whose work I was celebrating so heartily had absolutely no idea I was doing any of this.

So I hurried back to my office in the School of Psychology at the University of Leeds, UK, and sent a string of gushy e-mails to all of the people whose research I love. I told them that I admired their work and tried to be really specific about why. I didn’t ask for a collaboration or a meeting or anything in return; I just wanted them to realize that their work had impact.

Kindness alone won’t improve the research culture

The replies surprised me. Some were brief and grateful, others explained what the work had meant to them and a few told me that it was the first time anyone had explicitly told them that their research was appreciated. I had assumed these messages would be nice things to receive; I hadn’t realized quite how rarely we send them.