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The final part of my PhD-to-biotech series is now out in Chemistry World. It covers what nobody teaches you in the lab: networking, the hiring process, and your first months in an industry role. Here are the four shifts that mattered most for me, plus what I’d tell my postdoc self.

1. Ask for perspective, not a job

Most academics hate networking because it feels transactional. The fix is to stop treating it that way.

You’re not asking for a referral. You’re asking how someone’s role actually works, how they got there, and what they wish they’d known. That makes the conversation easier for both of you, and far more honest.

Try this: at your next conference, talk to two people outside your academic circle. Within a week, send each a short follow-up that mentions something specific from your chat. Two real conversations beat twenty business cards.

2. Hiring is risk management

In academia, you’re judged on papers and references. In industry, the interviewer is quietly asking something else: Will this person work well here, at our pace, with our constraints?

That’s why the most accomplished CV doesn’t always win. The person who best reduces the team’s uncertainty does.

Try this: before each interview, write down three things. What pressure is this team probably under? What gap is this role meant to fill? Which of your experiences speaks directly to that?

3. One story per CV bullet

Academics are trained to present polished results. Industry interviews reward the opposite: how you handled trade-offs, uncertainty and things that didn’t work.

Before every interview, I went through my CV line by line. For each bullet, I prepared one real story: the problem, what I did, the outcome, and what it showed about me.

It felt like overkill at first. In the room, it meant I never rambled or blanked. Every question had a structured answer waiting.

4. Your first 90 days aren’t about breakthroughs

Landing the job isn’t the finish line. The early months can feel disorienting, especially after years of academic autonomy.

The common mistake is rushing to prove yourself. The better move is to learn how decisions get made, who matters for what, and what success looks like in this team. Listen before you lead. Understand a process before you challenge it.

A light transition plan helps. It doesn’t need to be formal:

• Three things you want to learn

• The five people whose work most affects yours

• A check-in with your manager at 30 and 60 days

Patience here isn’t a lack of ambition. It’s what makes the move stick.

Industry careers aren’t built on one application or one interview. They’re built through a series of small, intentional choices, and by applying scientific thinking under a new set of constraints.

The full article goes deeper on each of these points. It’s free with a Chemistry World guest account:

• Part 1: Clarifying your direction before leaving academia

• Part 2: The PhD to biotech series: Understanding the biotech landscape and where you fit

• Part 3: Translating your academic profile into an industry narrative

• Part 4: Networking, hiring reality and making the transition stick

Thanks to Chemistry World for editing the series.

Over to you: which part of the transition was hardest for you, or still is? Reply or drop a comment. I read every one, and the best questions may shape a future post.

— Matteo

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Most PhDs and postdocs I talk to share the same frustration. They have strong profiles, good papers and real skills, and their applications still disappear.

The problem usually isn’t the content. It’s the translation.

Academic CVs are built to be complete records. In academia, detail signals credibility. In industry, it hides it. A recruiter scanning for a few seconds won’t dig through six pages to work out what you actually do.

I wrote about this in Part 3 of my PhD to biotech series for Chemistry World. Here I want to make it practical, with three exercises you can do this week.

1. Turn one paper into an outcome

Pick your strongest publication. Instead of the title, write three lines:

• What problem did it address?

• What did you do?

• What did it enable? Examples: a decision, a new direction, less uncertainty, a faster process.

That third line is the one industry cares about. Repeat this for your top three projects, and you have the core of your résumé.

2. Write your trajectory in two sentences

In academia, “PhD → postdoc” explains itself. Outside, it doesn’t. Try this:

“Across my work, I’ve focused on [theme]. I’m now looking to apply this to [direction] because [motivation].”

Your path doesn’t need to be linear. It needs to be legible. Once these two sentences work, use them in your LinkedIn headline and summary, and as your answer to “tell me about yourself.”

3. Reframe one skill without inflating it

Many academics freeze here because self-promotion feels like overselling. But reframing isn’t exaggerating. It’s choosing a different lens on the same experience:

Supervising students → people development and project coordination

Running collaborations → stakeholder management and cross-functional communication

The rule: every reframe needs a concrete example behind it. If you can’t give one, drop it.

The bigger point

This isn’t just about getting past the CV screen. Doing this work forces you to get clear on what you offer and where you want to go. That clarity shows up in interviews and in the decisions you make about which roles to pursue.

You don’t lose your rigor by translating your experience. You make it visible.

📖 Read the full article in Chemistry World

💬 Which part of your profile has been hardest to translate? Reply or comment. I read everything and may cover common questions in a future post.

— Matteo

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PhDs who want to go into industry usually say they want to move into “biotech”, as if it were one place with one front door.

It isn’t. Biotech is an ecosystem of very different organisations. Each one values your training in its own way. Treat it as a single destination and two things tend to happen: you apply everywhere and land nowhere, or you land somewhere that doesn’t fit how you work.

This piece is a practical companion to Part 2 of my PhD to biotech series in Chemistry World [Link]. That article lays out the landscape. Here I want to give you the questions and exercises I use when mentoring scientists through this decision.

Four places, four different jobs

Startups, scaleups, big pharma and CROs all hire PhDs. What they reward is not the same.

• Startup: rewards breadth, speed and comfort with incomplete data. Upside: ownership and visibility. Cost: uncertainty and little structure.

• Scaleup: rewards execution while processes are still forming. Upside: impact with more stability. Cost: roles and priorities keep shifting.

• Big pharma: rewards rigour and decisions within established frameworks. Upside: training, stability and scale. Cost: your impact can feel distant.

• CRO: rewards delivery under pressure and client communication. Upside: breadth across projects and therapeutic areas. Cost: external timelines drive your week.

None of these is “best”. The useful question is which column describes the trade-off you’re willing to make right now.

The job title trap

Job titles in biotech are not standardised. That’s the lesson academics find least intuitive.

A clinical scientist at a startup might shape trial design and interpret the data. At a large pharma company, the same title can mean mostly documentation and governance. A project manager can be an administrator, or the person making the scientific trade-offs that keep a programme alive. I’ve seen both.

When you read a job description, look for four signals:

• Decision-making: what does this person actually decide, and what do they only recommend?

• Scientific depth: is the science the work itself, or the context around it?

• Interfaces: which teams, clients or partners does the role sit between?

• Success: how will anyone know you are doing the job well?

If the description doesn’t answer these, a person will. Find two or three people with that title on LinkedIn, or among your university’s alumni. Send a short, specific message that respects their time. Most people are glad to spend 20 minutes talking about their job.

Translate, don’t exaggerate

Once you know what a role really involves, you can stop presenting yourself as a generic “PhD looking for industry”. Instead, describe your experience in the role’s own language.

• Supervised students → people management

• Designed experiments → decision-making under uncertainty

• Wrote grants → stakeholder communication and persuasion

• Ran collaborations → cross-functional project delivery

• Defended your work at conferences → handling scrutiny from senior audiences

This isn’t spin. You are describing the same work so that someone outside academia can recognise its value.

Ask where you create leverage, not where you fit

“Where do I fit?” puts the industry in charge. “Where do I create the most leverage?” puts you in charge. Answer these honestly:

1. Do I do my best work in ambiguity, or with structure?

2. Do I want breadth across many problems, or depth in one?

3. Do I want to shape strategy, or to execute brilliantly?

4. What pace can I sustain for years, not just for months?

Your answers will change over your career. That’s fine. The point is to choose on purpose.

Three things to do this week:

☐ Pick two organisation types from the table above and find three job descriptions for each

☐ Mark the four signals (decision-making, scientific depth, interfaces, success) in each one

☐ Message one person who already does the role that interests you most

Keep going

The scientists who move into biotech well don’t chase titles. They understand the landscape, interrogate roles, and choose environments where their skills carry the most weight.

The full article, Part 2 of my PhD to biotech series, is in Chemistry World: [link]. Part 3 follows soon.

Over to you: which job title turned out to mean something completely different once you saw the actual role? Tell me in the comments.

Part 2 of the PhD to biotech series is on Chemistry World [link]. Follow along on LinkedIn for discussion.

— Matteo

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This week, Chemistry World published the first article in my four-part PhD to biotech series. [Link]

I want to use this space to go a bit deeper, and a bit more personal, than a magazine piece allows.

The sentence I hear most often

In almost every mentoring conversation, someone tells me: “I want to go into industry.”

I understand it. I said it too. But when I ask what that means, the answer is usually a pause, followed by a list of things they want to leave: short contracts, grant pressure, the feeling of running in place.

That’s a valid starting point, but it isn’t a direction. And without a direction, it’s easy to land a role that looks great on paper and delivers none of what you were hoping for.

Industry is a landscape, not a single place

Academia gives you a fairly linear map. Industry doesn’t. A 15-person startup and a global pharma company both count as “industry,” but day-to-day they can feel like VERY different planets.

At a startup, you’ll likely be a generalist. The pace is fast, resources are tight, and your work is visible. You learn quickly, and you also live with uncertainty.

At a large company, you’ll likely go deeper. Roles are defined, projects move through formal governance, and there’s more stability and training. Decisions can be slower, and your personal impact can feel further away.

I’ve worked in both, and neither is better. The question is which one fits how you work and how much ambiguity you can live with.

You don’t lose your expertise; you reframe it

Many PhDs fear that leaving their niche means throwing away years of work. In my experience, it’s more of a translation problem than a loss.

Academia teaches you to introduce yourself by topic: “I work on X.” Industry listens for something else: how you solve problems, how you make judgement calls, how you work with people outside your field. Your expertise is still there. It just needs a different headline.

A 10-minute exercise before you open a job board

Rank these five drivers by what matters most to you right now, not forever:

1. Impact: seeing your work reach products or patients

2. Stability: predictability after years of fixed-term contracts

3. Learning speed: variety and fast growth

4. Visibility: being seen and heard in the organisation

5. Influence: shaping decisions and leading

Then look at your top two and ask what kind of environment usually offers them, and what it usually costs.

High learning speed often comes with less stability. High visibility often comes with more pressure.

There’s no perfect answer, only honest trade-offs.

If you can’t rank them yet, that’s useful information too.

It means your next step is conversations, not applications. :)

Clarity before commitment

Leaving academia is rarely one big leap. It’s a series of smaller decisions, and each one gets easier when you know what you’re moving towards.

Next week’s article builds on this. Until then, I’d love to know: which driver came out on top for you? Reply or comment below. I read everything.

Part 1 of the PhD to biotech series is on Chemistry World [link]. Follow along on LinkedIn for discussion.

— Matteo

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If you are a PhD in the age of AI, the question is no longer only what you know deeply. It is also how fast you can adapt, translate your expertise, and build a professional identity that can move across fields.

For years, academia gives PhDs a very specific identity: “the cancer biologist,” “the postdoc,” “the historian,” “the person working on this pathway, disease, archive, model, or organism.” Inside academia, that identity works. Your niche signals credibility. Your methods, publications, institution, and conferences all help explain who you are.

But in the age of AI, that identity can become too narrow. Not because expertise has lost value, but because expertise is changing. AI can summarize papers, generate code, support modelling, accelerate literature reviews, and help people move across technical domains faster than before. So the question for PhDs is no longer only, “What do I know deeply?” It is also, “Can I translate what I know, learn what I need, use new tools, and make good judgments across boundaries?”

This is where the academic transition becomes uncomfortable. Many PhDs are trained to go deep, master a topic, and become experts in a narrow domain. There is beauty in that. But we can start confusing our topic with our value. If I leave the bench, am I still a scientist? If I move into industry, am I less intellectual? If I use AI tools, am I less rigorous? If my next role is not directly connected to my thesis, am I starting from zero? These are not just career questions. They are identity questions.

The real value of PhD training is not only that you know one narrow thing. It is that you know how knowledge is built. You can evaluate evidence, question assumptions, understand uncertainty, distinguish signal from noise, and ask whether a model is meaningful or just impressive. If your identity is built only around tasks, AI can feel threatening. But if your identity is built around judgment, AI becomes an amplifier.

I experienced this personally. My original academic identity was not “computational biologist” or “ML scientist.” For a long time, I saw myself mostly through my (very much bench scientist ) background. But if I wanted to move toward the future of biopharma, I had to expand the container. So I started rebranding myself, not by pretending to be someone else, but by building new evidence. I transitioned to industry first (wrote about that and what happened to my identity here).

I then decided to build modelling experience and develop a stronger understanding of ML architecture, embeddings, nodes, and how these concepts connect to biological data. This moved me closer to computational biology and helped me understand how biological systems can be represented, simulated, and used to support better decisions.

That shift helped me join a company working in that space. Once there, I became genuinely passionate about virtual cell simulation, especially in ADC discovery and oncology.

What excited me was not just the technology but the possibility of using models to reason about biological complexity, therapeutic mechanisms, and better decision-making in drug discovery for patients.

My PhD training did not disappear. My scientific background did not become irrelevant. It became part of a broader identity that included computational biology, modelling, virtual cells, ADCs, and oncology.

That is the opportunity for many PhDs now. Reinvention does not always mean rejecting your past. Often, it means reorganizing it. The PhDs who will thrive in the age of AI are not necessarily the ones who cling most tightly to their original niche, but the ones who can identify the portable architecture of their expertise and ask: what do I know how to do that remains valuable when the context changes?

The question is not only, “What job can I get outside academia?” The better question is, “What identity is large enough for the future I want to build?”

Your academic identity was one container. A powerful one, maybe even a beautiful one, but still a container. And the future may require a larger one.

— Matteo

If you’re a PhD looking for roles outside academia, here’s one uncomfortable truth:

Most applications fail long before a recruiter reads them.

Not because you’re not smart enough.
Not because you’re not accomplished enough.
But because you didn’t truly understand the job.

And hiring managers can tell.

Step 1: Read the job description like a reviewer

When you read a job post, don’t skim it. Dissect it like you would a paper.

Separate:

• Must-haves → non-negotiable requirements

• Nice-to-haves → differentiators

• Language clues → what they repeat is what they care about

Ask yourself:

• Do I clearly meet most of the must-haves?

• Can I demonstrate this with evidence, not adjectives?

• Can I translate my academic experience into their language?

If the job asks for “cross-functional leadership in clinical development,” and your CV says “independent postdoctoral researcher,” there’s a translation gap.

Your job is to close that gap.

Strategic applications beat volume every time.

Step 2: Be a nerd about the company

Here’s where most PhDs underperform.

We’re trained to go deep into a scientific niche, but when applying for jobs, we suddenly go shallow.

• Generic cover letters.
  Generic motivation statements.
  Zero signal that we understand the business.

Let’s make this concrete.

If you’re applying for an oncology precision medicine role at AstraZeneca, don’t just write:

“I am passionate about cancer research and translational science.”

That tells them nothing.

Instead, study:

• Their oncology pipeline and focus on biomarker-driven trials

• Their strategy around combination therapies

• Their investment in precision medicine and patient stratification

• How diagnostics integrate into their development model

Look at who leads those programs.
Read recent publications from their teams.
Listen to conference talks from their clinical leaders.

Then reflect that understanding back.

For example:

“My experience designing biomarker strategies for early-phase trials aligns closely with AstraZeneca’s precision medicine approach in oncology, particularly in supporting patient stratification for combination therapies.”

Now you’re not just another applicant.

You’re someone who understands their challenges!

Step 3: Your CV is not a biography; it’s a positioning document

Your CV is not meant to describe everything you’ve ever done.

It’s meant to answer one question:

Why are you the right person for this specific role?

That means:

• Reordering bullet points

• Reframing academic achievements in business terms

• Highlighting cross-functional collaboration

• Quantifying impact wherever possible

If they care about regulatory interaction, show regulatory exposure.
If they care about translational strategy, show decision-making impact.
If they care about stakeholder management, don’t hide it in a minor bullet point.

Signal alignment.

Step 4: Quality > Quantity

Many PhDs apply to 150–200 jobs.

It feels productive.

It isn’t.

What actually works:

• 20–30 highly targeted applications

• Each one tailored

• Each one was deeply researched

• Each one is clearly aligned

It takes more effort, I know!
But it respects your time, your energy, and your expertise.

PhDs are trained to go deep.
To understand systems.
To identify gaps.
To solve complex problems.

Use that training in your job search.

Don’t apply like a desperate candidate.

Apply like a scientist who understands the system.

—

If you’re navigating the transition beyond academia, what’s been the hardest part for you: positioning, confidence, or clarity?

— Matteo

👉 Apply to join the next cohort HERE

If you’re a PhD or postdoc starting the new year with a quiet but persistent thought —

“I don’t think academia is for me… but I don’t know what’s next.”

—you’re not alone.

Academia trains you to do world-class research.

It doesn’t train you to move into biotech or pharma.

That gap is exactly why I created From Academia to Pharma & Biotech:

a 5-week, cohort-based career accelerator for scientists ready to turn uncertainty into direction.

What This Program Helps You Do

In just five weeks, you’ll learn how to:

• Identify biotech roles that fit your scientific background

• Translate your academic experience into industry language

• Build a biotech-ready résumé and LinkedIn profile

• Network strategically (without feeling awkward)

• Interview and negotiate with confidence

No prior industry experience required — just curiosity and commitment.

How It Works

🧠 5 live group sessions (1 hour/week)

🧩 Action-based assignments you apply immediately

💬 Peer community for accountability and networking

🎯 Direct feedback on your positioning, résumé, and LinkedIn

This isn’t theory. You’ll leave with real outputs and a clear plan.

Why Now?

January is a decision point.

Five weeks from now, you could still be thinking about leaving academia —

or you could be actively positioning yourself for biotech and pharma roles.

👉 Apply to join the next cohort HERE

[ A little sneak peek into the website ]

Sometimes, a career shift doesn’t start with a job offer;

it begins with choosing to take the transition seriously.

Happy NY PhDs, and let’s make this 2026 great!!

— Matteo

As 2025 comes to an end, many PhDs I speak with are carrying a similar, unspoken feeling.

Not panic.
Not urgency.
More like a low, persistent question.

Is the path I’m on still the right one, or just the one I’ve been on the longest?

For years, the academic system has given us structure. Clear milestones. Clear signals of progress. Even when it’s hard, at least it’s legible.

But somewhere along the way, often near the end of a PhD, during a postdoc, or after a few years in a research role, that structure starts to dissolve. The next step is no longer obvious. The rules feel different. The feedback loop is slower, or absent altogether.

And yet, the pressure to “figure it out” quietly increases.

As we move into 2026, I think many PhDs are realizing something important:

Careers no longer unfold automatically. They have to be designed.

From Accumulating Credentials to Creating Value

One of the hardest mental shifts when moving beyond academia is letting go of credential-based progress.

In academia, advancement comes from accumulation:

• more publications

• more grants

• more citations

• more years in the system

Outside academia, progress looks different.

What matters more is:

• how you think

• how you solve problems

• how you make decisions under uncertainty

• how clearly you can translate complexity into action

This doesn’t mean your PhD stops mattering. It means its value changes.

The question becomes less “What have I done?”
and more “What can I reliably help others do?”

PhDs who transition well don’t abandon their training, they reinterpret it.

Clarity Beats Certainty

Another pattern I see often: people waiting for certainty before they move.

Certainty about the right role.
Certainty about fit.
Certainty that leaving academia isn’t a mistake.

But certainty rarely arrives first.

Clarity does.

Clarity about:

• what kind of problems energize you

• what environments drain you

• what skills you want to use daily (not just in theory)

• what kind of life you’re building alongside your work

This kind of clarity usually emerges through reflection and small experiments—not big, irreversible decisions.

Most career transitions happen gradually, even if they look sudden from the outside.

Reputation Is Built Earlier Than You Think

Many PhDs underestimate how early their “next” career has already begun.

Every time you:

• explain your research to a non-academic

• help a colleague think through a problem

• write publicly or internally

• contribute beyond your formal role

You’re building a reputation.

Outside academia, opportunities tend to follow trusted problem-solvers, not perfect CVs.

The earlier you start acting like the professional you want to become, the easier the transition becomes later.

Optionality Is Underrated

Feeling stuck is often less about motivation and more about constraints.

Financial pressure.
Visa timelines.
Identity investment.
Fear of starting again.

Creating options—extra skills, small side projects, broader networks, some financial breathing room—changes how decisions feel.

Optionality doesn’t force you to leave.
It simply gives you the freedom to choose.

And choice is often what’s missing.

A Thought for 2026

A PhD career can easily span four or five decades.

You don’t need to solve everything this year.
You don’t need a perfect plan.
But you do need to stop treating your career as something that just happens to you.

As we head into 2026, it may be worth asking:

• Am I defaulting, or designing?

• Am I optimizing for prestige, or for fit?

• Am I preparing for the career I want—or the one I’ve inherited?

A Small Note

In early 2026, I’ll be running a 5-week accelerator for PhDs who want to transition into industry with more clarity and confidence, without rushing or burning bridges.

APPLY HERE

It’s for people who want time to think properly, translate their skills, and move forward deliberately. I’ll share details soon for those interested.

For now, consider this a moment to pause.

You’re not just finishing a year.
You may be standing at the edge of a much longer chapter.

Beyond academia doesn’t mean beyond meaning.
It just means the work changes shape.

—

If this resonated, feel free to share it with a PhD who’s quietly wondering what comes next.

— Matteo

Sometimes the most unexpected career paths start with a chromatogram.

When I sat down with Ashley, now an Alliance Manager at a global biotech, I expected to hear the usual arc: scientist to project manager, or maybe scientist to product development. Instead, she smiled and said, “I started in analytical chemistry. I thought I’d spend my life optimizing HPLC gradients.”

She meant it. For years, her days were filled with precision: calibrating instruments, validating methods, writing protocols, and diving deep into impurity profiles that most people’s eyes would glaze over. “I loved the clarity of it,” she said. “Analytical chemistry gives you answers, clean peaks, defined results. There’s something very grounding about that.”

But over time, something began to shift.

The Curiosity That Changed Everything

It started, as many pivots do, with curiosity.

Ashley noticed how often technical miscommunication derailed cross-company collaborations. A partner’s batch failed testing because of a misunderstood specification; a joint project lost momentum because each side used different validation standards.

“I started wondering,” she said, “why do partnerships between brilliant scientists fall apart over things that aren’t even about the science?”

That is when she began volunteering for interdepartmental projects, helping external vendors align on analytical methods, serving as the go-between for internal QC and partner organizations. What she discovered was that she had a knack for translation: not linguistic, but professional. “I could take what the scientists were saying and make it make sense to business development, and vice versa.”

That ability to bridge languages eventually caught the attention of leadership. When a role opened in alliance management, a colleague encouraged her to apply.

Her first reaction? “I had to Google what alliance management even was.”

The Transition: From Knowing the Data to Knowing the People

Moving into alliance management meant leaving behind the comfort of clear metrics. “In chemistry, you can measure everything purity, stability, recovery. In alliance management, success is relational. It’s about trust, timing, tone.”

Her first few months were a whirlwind. Instead of optimizing assays, she was now optimizing partnerships.

She learned how contracts were structured, how governance committees worked, how to navigate the delicate balance between protecting her company’s interests and fostering collaboration.

“I had to rewire my brain,” she laughed. “In the lab, my instinct was to fix problems directly. In alliances, you fix them through people through conversations, influence, patience.”

There were moments of doubt. “I missed the lab sometimes. There’s a comfort in tangible results a sample passes or fails, an instrument works or it doesn’t. In alliance management, progress is fuzzier.”

But there were also moments of revelation. Like the time she helped two partner companies realign after a year-long miscommunication that had stalled a development program. “That project saved millions of dollars not because we discovered a new compound, but because we learned how to communicate better. That was my new form of experiment.”

A Day in the Life

Today, Ashley’s calendar reads like a diplomacy manual.

Her mornings start early: calls with European partners, updates on joint R&D programs, and troubleshooting alignment between CMC and clinical teams. She spends afternoons on internal briefings, preparing leadership for steering committee meetings, and synthesizing updates from scientists, legal, and commercial leads into something cohesive.

“It’s like being an interpreter between different species,” she joked. “R&D speaks in data, business speaks in milestones, and executives speak in risk. My job is to make sure they’re all talking about the same thing.”

When things go well, nobody notices. “Alliance management is the art of making friction invisible,” she said. “If everything runs smoothly, that’s how I know I’ve done my job.”

How She Frames It Now

When I asked how she makes sense of such a dramatic career change, Ashley smiled. “Honestly, it doesn’t feel like a change. It feels like evolution.”

She still uses her analytical training, just differently. “I still analyze systems. I still troubleshoot complex interactions. I still think in cause and effect. Only now, my variables are people and organizations instead of molecules and reagents.”

Her scientific mindset gives her a unique edge. “Chemists are pattern hunters. We see relationships, dependencies, reactions. Alliance management is the same, just in human form.”

Advice for Scientists Considering a Pivot

Ashley offered three pieces of advice for PhDs thinking about a similar leap:

1. Redefine what “scientist” means.
   “You don’t stop being a scientist when you leave the bench. You just change what you experiment on. My data now comes from partnerships instead of samples.”

2. Start building cross-functional literacy early.
   “Volunteer for cross-company meetings, sit in on business reviews, or shadow alliance leads. Exposure builds confidence and vocabulary.”

3. Don’t underestimate your analytical skills.
   “Analytical chemists are wired to dissect complexity. That’s exactly what alliance managers do, just with relationships instead of reactions.”

   

The Power of Hybrid Identities

What struck me most about Ashley’s story was how she didn’t abandon her scientific identity, she layered it.

She’s not a “former scientist turned manager.” She’s a scientist and a strategist. Her career isn’t a departure from chemistry; it’s a reframing of it. She’s still guided by precision and data, but now her experiments are collaborative, not chemical.

In a world where biotech innovation depends increasingly on partnerships between companies, academia, and startups that hybrid identity is powerful. People like Ashley translate between disciplines, bridge gaps, and make big science actually happen.

“Sometimes I think,” she said, “analytical chemistry prepared me perfectly for this. It taught me to look for what’s missing, to measure the unmeasurable. That’s exactly what alliance management is seeing what’s not obvious.”

What I take away from Ashley’s journey is that the best careers aren’t linear; they’re layered. They build on what came before, even if it looks like a leap from the outside.

Ashley didn’t stop being an analytical chemist. She just expanded her definition of analysis.

And maybe that’s what career growth really is not abandoning your old tools, but learning to use them in a different lab.

— Matteo

© Chappatte in Le Temps, Geneva

Whether you are a fresh PhD or a seasoned postdoc, you’ve spent years (maybe decades) training to think deeply, solve complex problems, and contribute to human knowledge. But in a world being reshaped by AI, demographic shifts, and new work models, technical expertise alone isn’t enough anymore.

I believe that in the current job climate, it’s not about having the perfect CV anymore. It’s about building the career muscles and actual skills that keep you relevant, flexible, and in demand over a lifetime, not just a single job.

Here are 3 critical exercises to build career fitness after your academic training

1. Train for a 50-year marathon, not a sprint.

We used to think of careers as linear: get the degree, land the job, work steadily, retire. That timeline is gone.

Most of us will work for 50 years or more, across multiple identities, sectors, and skillsets.

Meanwhile, the half-life of knowledge is shrinking fast. What you learned during your PhD may have a shelf life of 5 years, sometimes less (this is what really struck me: all the knowledge and technical skills I built during my studies are basically outdated already !!).

So if we do the calculations right, if you stop learning at 35, you might be functionally retired by 40.

So I think that reinvention is no longer a radical move; it’s expected!

Every skill you pick up, from data storytelling to product strategy to community building, extends your runway and expands your optionality.

So 2 simple takeaways here:

👉 Don’t let your lifestyle trap you in work you don’t love.

👉 Don’t outsource your future self to “future you.”

This isn’t about staying employable, but designing a career that still has meaning in year 35.

2. “Jobs” does not equal “Work.”

I really believe that this is the mind shift that changes everything.

We’ve reached peak payroll jobs, but not peak work. There’s more value being created than ever, just outside traditional structures. Here’s the data:

• 70M+ Americans freelance in some capacity (and rising fast)

• A $250B+ creator economy thrives without W-2s or offices

• AI copilots and tools mean one person can do what once required a team

• Demographic shifts are changing what “a workforce” even looks like

If you equate your worth solely to a single full-time role, you’re leaving leverage (and freedom) on the table.

Work now lives in projects, gigs, communities, collaborations, and hybrid identities. And the smartest companies (and individuals) are learning to play this game.

Research skills, analytical depth, the ability to learn fast and work independently, these are the very currency in the project economy.

3. Sculpt Your Company of One Mindset

Whether you stay in academia, join industry, or carve your own path, the most resilient professionals think of themselves as a Company of One.

That means:

• Continuously upgrading your skills

• Building a reputation that travels with you

• Collaborating well with others but staying strong solo

• Using your main job to fund your future moves

So, think less “employee waiting for career progression,” more “independent professional choosing where to invest talent.”

The smartest people I know aren’t trying to predict the future of work. They’re building a portfolio of skills and opportunities so they can move with it.

So you can start today to: translate academic skills into market language and play outside your “disciplinary lane”.

🚨 The most dangerous thing isn’t being unemployed — it’s being unfit for the future.

🔥 Keep your skills up to tomorrow, not just up to date.

💡 Maximize optionality.

What’s your career fitness score for 2025?

Are you training for the long game or still running sprints designed for a world that no longer exists?

Until next time, fellow PhD leapers!

— Matteo

Sometimes the most interesting career stories don’t start where you expect.

When I sat down with Eva, now an Associate Director at a major biotech, she surprised me with her beginning: marine biology.

Not oncology, not pharmacology, she was studying ecosystems, corals, and currents.

“At first, I thought I’d spend my life in fieldwork,” she told me. “But over time I realized what fascinated me most wasn’t just the ocean itself, it was how systems interact, how small shifts in one part of an ecosystem ripple across the whole.”

That systems-thinking lens eventually pulled her into human biology, and then into translational sciences and clinical trials. She traded saltwater tanks for protocol amendments, field notes for PK/PD curves and safety reviews.

It was a big leap, and it wasn’t smooth. Eva laughed when she recalled her first weeks in biotech: “I went from counting fish populations to decoding clinical trial acronyms. I felt like I was learning a whole new language.” Recruiters questioned whether an ecology background could ever translate into oncology research. Hiring managers wanted 5 years of direct experience she didn’t have. “I had to get comfortable being the outsider in every room,” she said.

What got her through was persistence and reframing. She leaned on what she already knew, pattern recognition, data interpretation, and the patience to work in messy, unpredictable environments, and learned how to tell her story in a way that made sense to industry. Instead of saying she’d studied coral reefs, she emphasized her ability to track complex systems and extract meaning from noisy data.

Slowly, people began to see the value in that perspective.

Now, as an Associate Director in translational sciences, Eva applies that same systems mindset every day. Instead of studying coral reefs, she maps how early biomarker discoveries can guide clinical trial design. Instead of tracking fish populations, she tracks patient subgroups, identifying who is most likely to benefit from a new therapy, and why. She sits at the interface between discovery biology and clinical development, helping research findings make the jump from bench to bedside.

Her work is less about “running experiments” and more about connecting dots: aligning preclinical data with patient outcomes, making sure trial designs capture the right endpoints, and partnering with diagnostic teams to translate biology into actionable tools. “It’s still ecology,” she joked, “just in a different habitat.”

What I loved most, though, was the advice she gave for PhDs and postdocs still figuring out their direction.

First: don’t go to networking events asking, “What jobs do you have?”

As Eva put it: “They might just turn around and say, ‘Well, what do you want to do with your life?’

Come with an idea. Think things through. Career exploration is important.”

That really hit home for me.

Networking isn’t about asking for a job but about showing curiosity, clarity, and initiative.

Before you ask for help, take the time to ask yourself: what actually excites me?

Her second piece of advice was about intellectual diversity. “If you’re in bioengineering, explore computer science. If you’re focused on genetics, dive into neurobiology. The more you understand adjacent fields, the stronger your profile becomes.”

In other words: don’t build your career with blinders on.

What I take away from Eva’s story is that hybrid identities are powerful. She didn’t throw away her marine biology background; she expanded it.

Until next time, fellow PhD leapers!

— Matteo

Rhea’s journey from clinical development to strategic alliances reveals how operational acumen, cross-functional empathy, and a global mindset can turn scientific rigor into business transformation. In this chapter, we unpack her pivot from protocol writing to partnership brokering—how she leveraged her trial execution know-how, embraced business frameworks, and built trust across cultures to become a Principal Alliance Manager at a leading global pharma.

If you've ever sat in a study governance call thinking, "There has to be more than managing CRF updates", Rhea’s story is your north star. Her transition shows that forging billion-dollar partnerships isn’t just about contracts and KPIs—it’s about enabling innovation through relationship stewardship, scientific fluency, and aligned vision.

The Breaking Point: When Clinical Ops Was No Longer Enough

Rhea’s career began in the trenches of Phase II oncology trials. With a PhD in Pharmacology and six years coordinating clinical programs across Europe, she could navigate safety reviews and protocol amendments in her sleep. But something was missing.

• Repetitive Scope: “I started to feel like I was copy-pasting timelines more than advancing science. The work was important, but reactive.”

• Limited Strategic Influence: She was executing studies, but not shaping the science-industry ecosystem that brought those studies to life.

• Global Curiosity: Rhea wanted to operate beyond trial sites—to engage with diagnostic developers, digital health partners, and biotech innovators shaping the pipeline upstream.

The final straw? A very important late-stage trial delay was caused by misalignment with a CRO partner, which was going to jeopardize her career. “That’s when I realized—if we’re going to accelerate access to novel therapies, we need people fluent in both science and partnerships.”

She set her sights on a new frontier: alliance management.

The Identity Shift: Becoming a Strategic Partner, Not Just an Operator

Transitioning to a Principal Alliance Manager role wasn’t about switching companies—it was about shifting mindset.

“Suddenly, I wasn’t judged on how many studies I closed, but on how effectively I could steward a multi-year, multi-million-dollar alliance,” she says. That shift brought new challenges:

• Letting Go of Control: “In clinical ops, I owned timelines. In alliance management, success meant influencing without authority.”

• Navigating Ambiguity: Each partner, from diagnostic start-ups to real-world evidence providers, had different cultures, priorities, and languages.

• Learning the Business of Science: She upskilled fast, taking courses in contract law, corporate strategy, and even intercultural communication to build fluency with both internal stakeholders and external collaborators.

How Rhea Built the Bridge to Alliance Management

She didn’t just apply blindly. Rhea reverse-engineered her way in, deliberately crafting experiences that matched the role’s expectations:

• Shadowing Alliance Leads: At her previous company, she asked to join quarterly business reviews and governance meetings between pharma and CRO partners.

• Building Her Network: Rhea reached out to alliance managers at diagnostics firms, learning to talk “strategic objectives” instead of “study milestones.”

• Telling the Right Story: On her résumé and in interviews, she translated her clinical ops wins into partnership metrics, highlighting vendor performance management, issue escalation protocols, and relationship continuity during team turnover.

Life as a Principal Alliance Manager: Challenges, Wins, and Purpose

Today, Rhea manages alliances with external innovation partners across oncology and precision medicine.

Her job? Ensuring that the science works, the business aligns, and the relationship thrives.

The Core of Her Work:

• Partnership Governance: Running joint steering committees, aligning on shared KPIs, and navigating tension points with transparency.

• Issue Mediation: Acting as the “translator” between internal R&D teams and partner companies to resolve data-sharing bottlenecks or IP concerns.

• Strategic Expansion: Identifying where a successful pilot can become a broader collaboration—thinking not just operationally, but longitudinally.

What Lights Her Up:

“Watching a partnership I nurtured lead to a companion diagnostic approval? That’s impact at ecosystem scale.”

What Tests Her:

“When partners have conflicting goals, I have to channel both diplomat and scientist. It’s like couples therapy, but with regulatory implications.”

Lessons from Rhea’s Story

• Build Your Strategic Muscles: Start with internal partnerships. Volunteer to manage an external vendor relationship or lead a contract renewal discussion to get comfortable with ambiguity and alignment.

• Soft Skills Are Business Skills: Influencing without authority, resolving conflict, and articulating shared goals—these aren’t “nice-to-haves,” they’re your core deliverables.

• Embrace Your Hybrid Identity: Rhea didn’t abandon her scientist roots—she expanded them. She’s still asking: How do we bring better therapies to patients faster? But now, she does it through the power of aligned partnerships.

Thinking of Alliance Management? Ask Yourself:

• Where are you already influencing external partners, even informally?

• Could you co-lead a pilot collaboration or coordinate a multi-stakeholder initiative?

• Who at your organization currently manages partnerships—and could you shadow one governance call a month?

Until next time, fellow PhD leapers!

— Matteo

Elena’s journey from molecular biologist to product manager reveals how deep domain expertise, strategic upskilling, and a fearless mindset can transform academic rigor into real-world impact. In this chapter, we follow her breaking point in the grant-driven grind, her uphill battle against imposter syndrome, and the deliberate “bridge” she built—volunteering on cross-functional projects, mastering lean product principles, and forging a PM network—to land a role shaping the next generation of bioinformatics tools. Whether you’re pipetting in a postdoc or coding at a startup, Elena’s story shows that redefining success means leveraging your unique scientific superpowers to solve user problems at scale.

Despite years in the lab unraveling protein interactions and publishing in top-tier journals, Elena yearned for a role where she could shape the vision behind the next breakthrough platform rather than just execute experiments. Through her story, we’ll explore the emotional crossroads of stepping out of academia, the strategic bridge she built to product management, and the mindset shifts that transformed her from bench scientist to product leader.

The Breaking Point: Why Elena Left Academia

Elena’s path was textbook: BSc in Biochemistry, PhD in Molecular Biology at a leading university, then two postdocs chasing the elusive tenure track. Yet with each grant cycle and manuscript review, she felt the walls of the lab closing in.

• Narrow Focus: “I spent more time writing grant proposals than thinking about the big picture—who even reads these things beyond peers?”

• Limited Impact: She longed to drive tools that accelerate drug discovery at scale, but academia’s reward system valued incremental publications over user-driven innovation.

• Burnout & Uncertainty: Endless experiments, late nights pipetting, and the looming “publish or perish” pressure left her questioning the sustainability of this path.

The deciding moment came after her third paper was rejected. “I realized I was good at dissecting biological pathways, but I wanted to build something that millions could use, not just cite,” she recalls. That day, she resolved: it was time to translate her science savvy into a product mindset.

The Emotional Toll of Transition

Shifting from postdoc to product manager meant more than acquiring new skills—it meant redefining her professional identity.

“I remember the knot in my stomach when I posted my résumé online. Would I be seen as ‘overqualified for junior roles’ or ‘not business enough’ for PM jobs?”

Imposter syndrome hit hard. She’d never led a sprint planning session or drafted a business case, and her PhD sometimes felt like a barrier rather than a badge of honor. Colleagues warned her about “leaving the ivory tower,” while recruiters questioned her lack of traditional MBA credentials.

To navigate the uncertainty, Elena:

1. Found Allies: She reached out to product leads at biotech startups for informational interviews—learning to speak “roadmap” and “MVP” instead of “PCR” and “Western blot.”

2. Owned Small Wins: She volunteered to manage the lab’s new sample tracking tool, coordinating scope, timeline, and feedback.

3. Embraced Growth: Each stumble in market sizing or stakeholder alignment became input for her next iteration, reframing setbacks as data points.

Lessons from Elena’s Story

1. Leverage Your Domain Expertise
   Your scientific background isn’t a liability—it’s a superpower. Elena used her deep understanding of molecular workflows to spot unmet user needs in lab software and pitch solutions with credibility.

2. Build the Bridge Gradually
   Rather than quitting her postdoc overnight, she carved out PM-like responsibilities: leading a cross-functional pilot for a new lab information system and shadowing the university tech-transfer office on customer calls.

3. Cultivate a PM Network
   Beyond generic LinkedIn outreach, Elena scheduled focused “discovery chats” with product managers at life-science tool companies, asking pointed questions like, “How do you balance feature velocity with scientific validation?”

4. Upskill with Purpose
   She completed a foundational course in Lean Product Management and dabbled in SQL to analyze user data, immediately applying each new tool to her lab project backlog.

Thriving as a Product Manager: Skills, Challenges, and Joys

Today, Elena owns the roadmap for a cloud-based bioinformatics platform. She blends her lab-honed rigor with product agility:

• User Empathy: Leading interviews with researchers to uncover pain points in data analysis pipelines.

• Cross-Functional Collaboration: Orchestrating engineers, UX designers, and subject-matter scientists to ship experiments faster—and more reliably.

• Data-Driven Decisions: Defining success metrics, building dashboards to track adoption, and running A/B tests on new workflow features.

• Adaptive Communication: Translating technical trade-offs for stakeholders—whether R&D executives or bench biologists—in terms that resonate.

What she loves: “Seeing a feature I championed reduce a customer’s analysis time from days to hours—it’s the thrill of impact multiplied!”

What challenges her: “Navigating conflicting priorities. Every scientist has a zeal for their own protocol, so aligning everyone on a shared MVP takes both tact and vision.”

Elena has learned to thrive in ambiguity, knowing that impactful products emerge through iterative discovery rather than rigid plans.

Next Steps

If you’re a scientist dreaming of product management, reflect on these questions:

• Why PM? Are you driven by solving user problems at scale, or by the strategic orchestration of ideas, or both?

• What’s Your Pilot? Can you lead a small tool rollout, manage a software integration, or coordinate a cross-departmental initiative in your current role?

• Who’s Your Champion? Identify one PM mentor and business stakeholder who can provide feedback on your evolving roadmap.

Call to Action:
What hurdles are you facing in your science-to-product pivot? Share your thoughts or questions below!

Until next time, fellow life-science explorers!
— Matteo

After publishing my recent article, Re-establishing My Scientist Identity in Industry, many PhDs reached out, resonating with my story and asking about my journey. Here’s the process I went through.

For years, I was immersed in the world of academia—a realm where deep-dive research, rigorous inquiry, and specialized expertise defined my identity. I pursued a PhD in biotechnology, working in a niche that I both loved and mastered. Every experiment, every conference, every late night in the lab was a testament to a passion that fueled my early career.

After much time and effort, I realized that I was ready for a new challenge.

Transitioning from the academic bubble to the dynamic world of industry wasn’t merely a change of workplace—it was a complete transformation of who I am as a professional.

The shift was jarring: no longer was I the dedicated researcher with a singular focus on a specialized field. Instead, I had to reinvent myself to thrive in an environment where technology and disease areas were in constant flux, and where the rules of engagement were entirely different.

I. Embracing the Uncertainty of Change

Making the leap from academia to industry is both exhilarating and terrifying. For a long time, I clung to the familiarity of academic research—even when it no longer aligned with my evolving aspirations. The comfort of a well-defined niche made it hard to imagine a future outside the ivory tower. But, like many of us, I eventually recognized that growth only comes when you step into the unknown.

I had to let go of the certainty that had been my compass for so long. The fear of the unknown, of leaving behind what I knew so well, was overwhelming. And yet, the realization struck me: to grow, I needed to allow my identity to evolve, to accept that the next chapter of my career might be radically different—and that was okay.

I explore this and other stories in my bestselling book, Beyond Academia (10,000 copies sold), where I provide practical tools to help PhDs land jobs in industry.

II. Reconciling Who I Was with Who I Am Becoming

In academia, my identity was tied to my expertise, my publications, and my contributions to a very specific field of study.

The transition meant that I had to question long-held beliefs about myself:

Was I only defined by my scientific specialization?

Could I be a valuable contributor in a completely new arena?

I began to notice the internal dialogue that echoed the doubts many of us face:

• “I built my reputation in one field—how can I start over in a new industry?”

• “My success was measured by academic accolades. Will that matter in a corporate setting?”

• “I feel like I’m losing a part of who I was, and I’m not sure who I will be.”

Recognizing these inner narratives was the first step toward transforming them. I learned to see this not as a loss of identity, but as an evolution—a chance to integrate my deep academic insights with new, diverse perspectives from industry.

I discovered that my ability to think critically and solve complex problems was a universal asset, no matter the context.

III. Slowing Down to Rebuild

In academia, the pace was relentless—always publishing, always pushing the boundaries of knowledge. Entering the industry, I found that success was not solely about speed or volume; it was about aligning with a broader vision and strategy. I had to learn the art of pausing, reflecting, and recalibrating my goals in a landscape that moves at a different rhythm.

This intentional slowing down allowed me to reassess my skills and passions, and to merge my academic rigor with practical, market-driven innovation. It was in these moments of stillness that I started to see new opportunities emerge—opportunities to contribute meaningfully in sectors I had never considered before.

IV. Aligning My Inner Compass with New Ambitions

The most challenging part of this transition was ensuring that my outward career choices resonated with my inner truth. I had spent so many years adhering to a singular academic path that the prospect of venturing into different technology and disease areas felt like a departure from my true self. However, I gradually understood that my core strengths—curiosity, analytical thinking, and perseverance—transcend any single field.

By reconnecting with my inner values and interests, I began to map a new professional identity that was both authentic and adaptable. I learned to celebrate the skills I honed during my PhD, while also being open to acquiring new ones. This alignment has not only fueled my professional growth but has also provided a renewed sense of purpose.

V. Accepting That the Journey is Ongoing

Transitioning from academia to industry is not a one-time event—it’s an ongoing journey. Each day brings fresh challenges and opportunities to reimagine what my career can be. There have been moments of doubt and times when I felt utterly lost, but I’ve come to see these moments as integral parts of my evolution.

Instead of viewing these periods of uncertainty as setbacks, I now recognize them as times for recalibration and learning. Every pivot, every new project, and every risk taken is a step toward refining my professional identity.

A Final Thought

If you’re facing a similar transition—whether it’s shifting from academia to industry or exploring a completely new domain—remember that your journey is uniquely yours. Embrace the uncertainty, question your old narratives, and be patient with yourself. The path forward might not be clearly mapped out, but with every step, you’re redefining what success means to you. The real work lies in listening to your inner voice, trusting your abilities, and continuously adapting to the changing landscape of your career.

Your past is not a cage but a foundation—a source of strength as you build something new.

Keep your inner compass aligned with your true aspirations, and let your passion guide you into the future.

—

Until next time, fellow PhD career leapers!

Matteo

Despite achieving significant academic milestones, Marie faced burnout and a growing sense of dissatisfaction with the rigid expectations of academia. Her decision to leave was both challenging and liberating, marking a turning point that redefined her idea of success. Through her story, this piece explores the emotional and practical aspects of career transitions, offering inspiration and actionable insights for those contemplating their own leap beyond academia.

The Breaking Point: Why Marie Left Academia

Marie’s story is one that resonates deeply with many scientists on the edge of a career change. Despite achieving academic milestones—earning her PhD from ETH Zurich and securing a Marie-Curie fellowship—Marie found herself in an all-too-familiar situation: frustrated, burnt out, and questioning the path she once thought was her destiny.

Her decision to leave academia didn’t come lightly. For years, Marie felt trapped by the relentless pursuit of publishing, building a CV, and chasing group leader positions that she no longer desired. The birth of her second child in 2020 and the disorienting backdrop of the pandemic brought her frustrations to a head.

That’s when she decided: no more postdocs, no fallback to the familiar. She was leaving, come what may.

I explore these and other stories in my new book, Beyond Academia, offering practical tools on how to land a job in industry.

The Emotional Toll of Transition

Marie describes the transition as lonely, depressing, and challenging.

"Leaving academia felt like a failure—not because I had failed, but because academia often equates success exclusively with becoming a professor," she says.

"After 14 years in research, this narrative had become ingrained in me, making me doubt my worth and my future."

She also grappled with uncertainty about what came next.

Limited career options loomed large, and she felt isolated in navigating the unknown. But looking back, Marie credits one pivotal decision as her turning point: refusing to fall back into another postdoc.

It was a bold and difficult choice—especially given her financial pressures—but it was the foundation of her eventual success.

Lessons from Marie’s Story

Marie’s experience offers critical insights for anyone considering a career transition out of academia:

• The Decision to Leave

  It’s easy to stay in academia longer than you should—taking one more postdoc or one more fellowship because it feels like the safe or expected choice. But Marie realized that continuing down this path wasn’t “giving it another chance”; it was delaying the inevitable.

  I found this incredibly relatable. I wasn’t even done with my PhD before I received and signed a postdoc contract, and then I did the same for another one. I never really gave myself the time to step back, think, and reflect on what I truly wanted for my career and my life.

• The Cost of Waiting

  The longer you stay, the harder it becomes to leave. For Marie, years of hesitation gave way to clarity when she finally committed to walking away. This hesitation, however, is common and can feel like a perpetual limbo.

• Rewriting the Narrative

  Academia often perpetuates the idea that leaving is failing. But for Marie, leaving meant freeing herself to explore opportunities that aligned better with her values and life goals. It was about carving out a new path that allowed her to grow in ways academia never could.

• Finding Your Own Path

  Marie’s story is a reminder that leaving academia is not about abandoning success but redefining it. She chose to move forward rather than look back, setting an example for others contemplating the same decision.

Thriving as a Scientific Program Manager: Skills, Challenges, and Joys

Now, as a scientific program manager, Marie ensures that projects are executed efficiently and align with their strategic goals. The most important skills in program management, she says, are building strong relationships and staying highly organized. This involves interacting with diverse stakeholders, understanding their needs, and communicating in ways that resonate with each audience. Attention to detail is crucial, but it’s equally important to maintain a bigger-picture perspective and an understanding of the multiple projects being managed.

A key part of the role is adjusting your communication style based on the audience—whether presenting detailed findings to bench scientists or summarizing high-level progress for senior leaders, the presentation must be tailored to suit their expectations and priorities. She experiences joy at work when large, complex meetings go smoothly, ultimately driving decisions forward for the projects she oversees. “Building relationships with others is also something I enjoy a lot,” she adds.

However, the role comes with challenges. Administrative tasks can be tedious, particularly in the beginning, and the learning curve can be steep. She found herself doing a significant amount of learning on the fly—taking initiative to reach out, ask questions, and seek advice from various internal teams. This proactive approach was essential to navigating the complexities of program management and growing in the role.

Next Steps

If you’re contemplating a transition, start by reflecting on these questions:

• What are your motivations for staying in academia?

• Are they rooted in passion, or are they driven by fear of the unknown?

• What would success look like for you outside of academia?

Marie’s story shows us that while the decision to leave can feel daunting, it can also be the first step toward a career filled with purpose and possibility.

Call to Action:

What’s your transition story? Share your thoughts or questions in the comments—I’d love to hear from you.

Until next time, fellow PhD career leapers!

Matteo

Career Shift and Initial Challenges

For many PhD graduates, the academic path seems clear: pursue postdoctoral research, publish extensively, and secure a coveted academic position. However, dwindling academic job opportunities and the often-overlooked appeal of industry roles lead some to reconsider their trajectory. Leaving academia, however, can feel like leaping into the unknown.

Why do so many PhDs struggle with this decision? For many, academia isn’t just a career – it’s a calling that intertwines with personal identity. I’ve felt this deeply. The work feels like a core part of who we are, and stepping away can feel like losing a part of ourselves. Yet opportunities outside academia can also fulfill this calling.

I believed that becoming a professor would define my academic identity and be the natural progression of my career. That belief drove me through two postdoctoral appointments, each accepted without hesitation, leading to a cycle of short-term contracts and global relocations.

When I decided to leave academia, acknowledging my dwindling chances of securing a tenure-track position, moving to industry felt like leaving behind a part of my identity. Years of expertise and contributions to the academic community made the transition to an entry-level industry role feel like a step backward.

Mindset Change and Relearning

This sense of identity loss lingered until I began to adapt. I realized my worth wasn’t solely defined by my job. Transitioning became an opportunity for growth. Instead of viewing it as a step down, I reframed it as a chance to apply my knowledge in practical, impactful ways. This mindset shift was pivotal.

Industry roles require a broader skill set, particularly valuing project management, teamwork, and communication tailored to non-specialist audiences. Adapting to a framework that prioritizes results over publications was challenging but ultimately rewarding.

Re-establishing Scientific Identity

Rebuilding my scientific identity in industry proved challenging but rewarding. The critical thinking, problem-solving, and complex data analysis skills honed during my academic career were invaluable. They needed to align, however, with business objectives.

Industry offers unique opportunities for meaningful impact. Witnessing tangible outcomes—whether through product development, process improvement, or solving real-world challenges—was incredibly fulfilling. For me, contributing to solutions for patients surpassed the intellectual satisfaction of academic research.

Moving from academia to industry is not just a career shift; it’s a transformation of professional identity. Embracing continuous learning and leveraging scientific expertise allowed me to achieve new milestones in the fast-paced industrial world. For those contemplating this move, your scientific identity isn’t confined to academia. It can evolve and flourish in industry, driving innovation and creating lasting impact.

This reflection inspired me to write a piece published on Chemistry World exploring exactly these themes. You can read it here.

Till next time,

Matteo

The holiday season is a time for reflection, planning, and celebrating achievements—and there’s no better time to think about your future. For PhDs and postdocs contemplating a leap from academia to industry, my book, Beyond Academia: Stories and Strategies for PhDs Making the Leap to Industry, might just be the perfect gift for yourself or someone you care about.

Transitioning from academia to industry can feel overwhelming. The landscape is unfamiliar, the opportunities vast, and the competition fierce. But with the right guidance and tools, you can transform your PhD into a powerful asset that sets you apart from the crowd. That’s where Beyond Academia comes in.

This book is more than a guide—it’s a roadmap, offering actionable strategies and insights to help you land your dream job in industry. Drawing on real-life stories from professionals who’ve successfully made the leap, it demystifies the transition process and provides the clarity you need to take the next step with confidence.

Introducing the LEAP Approach

At the heart of Beyond Academia is the 4-chapter LEAP approach, designed to help you navigate your career transition:

• Learn about your personal and professional values: Understand what drives you and what you truly want from your career.

• Explore your career change: Identify industries and roles that align with your skills and passions.

• Apply to jobs beyond academia: Craft compelling applications that stand out.

• Pursue a fulfilling career in industry: Strategize your next steps and thrive in your new role.

What You’ll Learn

Inside Beyond Academia, you’ll find practical advice and step-by-step strategies, including:

• How to translate your academic skills into value for non-academic employers.

• Proven job search techniques to help you secure interviews in any industry.

• Tips to ace interviews and land the job.

• Guidance on writing a winning resume that speaks to industry needs.

• How to optimize your LinkedIn profile to attract the right opportunities.

Why Now?

To celebrate the holiday season, I’m offering a 20% discount on Beyond Academia. Whether you’re setting career goals for the new year or know someone who is, this is the perfect opportunity to invest in your future at a special price.

Hundreds of Positive Reviews

Don’t just take my word for it—Beyond Academia has received hundreds of glowing reviews from readers who’ve used its strategies to successfully transition to industry. Here’s what one reader had to say:

"This book was exactly what I needed! Clear, practical, and inspiring. It gave me the tools and confidence to pursue a career outside academia, and I’m thrilled to say I’ve just started my dream job in biotech!"

Make 2025 Your Best Year Yet

Whether you’re just starting to consider a move to industry or you’re actively applying, Beyond Academia will empower you to take control of your career and achieve your goals. Don’t let uncertainty hold you back—take the leap and make 2025 a year of growth, success, and new opportunities.

Click here to get your copy of Beyond Academia today and take advantage of the 20% holiday discount! 🎁

Happy holidays, everyone! Here’s to a bright and exciting year ahead. 🎉✨

Matteo

I’m excited to announce the launch of our Value Clarification Workshop this January 2025—an interactive, engaging session designed specifically for PhD candidates and postdocs ready to take charge of their career journeys. Whether you're exploring opportunities beyond academia or seeking to enhance your employability and professional growth, this workshop will serve as your career compass 🧭 for the year ahead.

What’s in It for You?

I often found myself applying for jobs without fully considering whether my values truly aligned with the company and role. That’s why it’s so important to figure out your values in advance.

By the end of this workshop, you’ll walk away with a personalized career manifesto—a powerful document that captures your core values, strengths, and aspirations. This manifesto will serve as your guiding light, empowering you to navigate your career with clarity and confidence for years to come.

Workshop Highlights

This 1h30mins workshop combines hands-on exercises with insightful discussions, blending methodologies inspired by world-class leadership and personal development frameworks:

✅ Leadership for Flourishing Group (Harvard & Oxford collaboration)
✅ Lessons from Robert Greene’s Mastery
✅ Strategies from The School of Life workshops
✅ Practical insights from Brené Brown’s Dare to Lead

Key Activities

🖌️ Creative Imagination Exercise
Think outside the box with fun drawing and creative tasks, followed by thought-provoking group discussions.

🔍 Discovering Passions & Interests
Pinpoint the traits and work environments that bring you true career satisfaction.

👶 Childhood Reflection Exercise
Inspired by The School of Life and Robert Greene’s work, this activity helps uncover your core calling by reflecting on formative experiences. Group breakouts encourage open exploration and shared insights.

And much more...

Workshop Details

📅 Date: January 15th 2025, 5pm GMT/ 12pm EST

🕘 Duration: 1h30mins online

🌍 Who’s It For: PhDs and postdocs at any stage of their career exploration

🎟️ Early Bird Offer: Sign up now at a discounted price—limited spots available!

Start your 2025 with a clear direction, renewed confidence, and the tools to build a career that aligns with your values and aspirations.

👉 Reserve your spot today and take the first step toward a fulfilling future!

https://lu.ma/739ubhhh

Let’s make 2025 the year you take charge of your career. 🚀

— Matteo

For many PhDs, government roles can feel like a bit of a black box—less visible compared to careers in industry. Yet, they offer a deeply fulfilling path for those seeking purpose-driven work that contributes to the greater good. One such role is reviewing drug submissions at the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA), where impactful decisions are made at a remarkable pace.

During one of my career development workshops last month, I had the privilege of hosting a career transition panel featuring professionals from government and nonprofit agencies. Although I have limited exposure to this career path as a transition option for PhDs (and honestly few of my former colleagues have pursued it) I was inspired to explore it further. To shed light on this ‘less-traveled’ route, I interviewed Leila for this newsletter.

Leila, a PhD who transitioned from academia to a role at the FDA, shared insights about her career and the unique opportunities in government work. Her journey highlights how fulfilling and fast-paced this path can be.

At the FDA, Leila reviews and evaluates drug submissions, a role that demands both precision and efficiency. For example, after a drug submission is received, the FDA typically must provide feedback within just 30 days—a striking contrast to the often lengthy timelines (that we are all very used to) of academic research. This fast-paced environment keeps her energized and deeply engaged in her work.

In terms of soft skills, she reckons that flexibility and a learning mindset are essential to her role. Since the drugs under review span a wide range of mechanisms of action (MOAs) and disease areas, Leila must quickly familiarize herself with topics outside her immediate expertise. This continuous need to learn and adapt ensures that her work remains intellectually stimulating and never stagnant.

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Why did she choose this path?

During her academic career, Leila often felt a disconnect between her research and its tangible impact on people’s lives. While her work in the lab was intellectually stimulating, she found herself yearning for a more direct way to contribute to public health and patient well-being.

"I spent years investigating complex neuroscientific questions, but I rarely saw how my findings translated into real-world change" she recalls. This sense of detachment ultimately motivated her to seek a career where she could play a more active role in delivering solutions that directly benefit patients. Her role at the FDA became the ideal avenue to bridge this gap, allowing her to combine her scientific expertise with her desire to make a measurable difference. Her transition began when she applied for a postdoctoral appointment at the agency after completing her PhD at a nearby university. Shortly after, a new position became available, and she decided to take the leap. Although the initial role was more focused on regulatory work than science, she was able to move laterally into her current position, where she has been for the past seven years.

At the FDA, Leila now plays a crucial part in ensuring that safe and effective drugs make it to market. “I love that I’m working for the government and don’t have to think about profits,” she says. “It’s fulfilling to know that my work has a direct and positive impact on society at large.” This sense of purpose keeps her motivated even when the workload is intense.

I explore these and other stories in my new book, Beyond Academia, offering practical tools on how to land a job in industry.

Leila also values the collaborative nature of her role. She works alongside some of the brightest minds in the field, including fellow scientists, medical reviewers, and policy experts. Together, they tackle the complex challenges of drug approval and regulation.

"I’m constantly learning from my colleagues, and their expertise pushes me to grow professionally," she explains. However, the fast-paced environment and high stakes of decision-making mean that her days are rarely slow. “The workload can be demanding,” she admits, “but the rewards of seeing tangible outcomes—like drugs reaching the people who need them—make it all worthwhile.”

There are also some downsides to the job in her opinion, such as limited upward mobility within the career ladder and the potential influence of the current political climate on day-to-day work. It's important to keep these factors in mind when selecting the right path for your career.

Main Takeaways

A career in government might not be the first path PhDs consider, but it offers a unique opportunity to apply scientific expertise in a role that directly impacts public health and society. It’s fast-paced, meaningful, and collaborative, with a focus on serving the public good rather than profit margins.

For those eager to transition out of academia, working for an agency like the FDA or NIH could be a perfect fit. Starting with a postdoctoral appointment to get your foot in the door (like Leila did) and then moving laterally based on personal interests can offer a flexible and rewarding career path.

Until next time, fellow PhD career leapers!

Matteo

For many PhDs looking to transition out of academia, project management (PM) is a promising career path that leverages organizational skills, critical thinking, and the ability to manage complex tasks. But what does it really take to succeed as a project manager, especially in industries like pharmaceuticals or biotechnology? Let’s break it down.

At its core, project management is about turning a broad plan into actionable steps. It's about mapping out specific requirements and translating them into a schedule that makes sense, ensuring tasks are completed on time while hitting key deadlines. In a corporate environment, especially in a field like pharma, this means managing multiple projects simultaneously and keeping everything on track. The ability to juggle several moving pieces is crucial. You’ll need to ensure that team members are working efficiently, problem-solve issues as they arise, and constantly communicate with stakeholders—be it leadership, clients, or external collaborators.

As someone transitioning from a PhD, you already have a strong advantage. Your research work, particularly if it involved interdisciplinary collaboration, has prepared you well for the demands of managing teams, navigating complex timelines, and working under pressure.

Stakeholder alignment, or ensuring all involved parties are on the same page, is critical for project success outside of academia.

“You’ll find that your communication skills—whether in presenting your research or coordinating across departments—are one of your strongest assets.”

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An Example from the Field: Fra’s Journey

I recently connected with Fra, a Project Manager at a global pharmaceutical company specializing in generics and biopharmaceuticals. Like many in the field, Fra didn’t start her career as a project manager. She earned her PhD in biochemistry, followed by a postdoc in cancer biology, before transitioning into PM. Now, she oversees product (i.e. - small molecules) transfers from R&D to production, coordinating everything from the validation of analytical methods to assessing differences between production sites.

One of the things Fra emphasized was that being highly organized and communicative is key. Much of her day involves liaising between teams in operations, quality control, and other departments, all while ensuring timelines are met. While she doesn't need to be an expert in every area, she needs to understand enough to communicate effectively and keep things moving smoothly.

For example, if a production site encounters an issue with a method transfer, she must work with her team to address the problem without causing delays. This involves quick thinking, problem-solving, and a deep understanding of both the project’s technical aspects and the broader company objectives. “It might be stressful at times as things tend to move fast and deadlines loom”, Fra says, but she finds value in her job because of the tangible impact her work has on many people, which “was something I never experienced during my PhD…”. She feels a deep sense of accomplishment in knowing she’s helping to get essential products to market and appreciates the sense of progress that comes from solving real-world problems and moving projects forward.

Fra’s technical background has been a major asset. She can sit in on meetings and understand complex scientific discussions, which gives her an edge when explaining project updates to non-technical stakeholders.

She noted that this ability to act as a bridge between technical teams and management is something that has set her apart in her role.

Certifications and Career Growth

If you’re considering project management, one thing to explore is certification. The Project Management Professional (PMP) certification by PMI, for example, is one of the most widely recognized credentials in the field (but quite pricey too).

While not always required, it can give you an edge in the job market, particularly in industries like pharma and biotech where formal PM frameworks are often used. Other certifications like CAPM (a smaller version of the PMP certification offered by the same institute), PRINCE2, and SAFe can also be useful depending on the specific industry or job role.

A good way to start getting an idea is to enroll for a free course on Coursera, which offers a variety of PM courses.

Main Takeaways

Transitioning from academia into project management is absolutely feasible, and your PhD gives you a leg up in many ways.

You already have the skills to manage complex projects, communicate across teams, and problem-solve on the fly.

With the right mindset and perhaps a certification or two, you’ll be well-equipped to take on this exciting and rewarding career path.

Until next time, fellow PhD career leapers!

Matteo