Reflecting on ARU’s first researcher wellbeing event: why it matters and where we go next

Last month, along with colleagues from across ARU, we held our first-ever researcher wellbeing (RWB) event – and I’m still feeling the impact of that day. It was powerful and demonstrated exactly why work in this area is so crucial.

RWB is something that is so rarely recognised, let alone prioritised. Very few institutions have explicit strategies or dedicated resources for it. And yet ARU has shown real commitment, investment, and bravery in making this a priority.

We had just over 100 people sign up and around 65 attend on the day, representing a wide range of disciplines and experiences. What struck me immediately was the breadth of research where there is a clear risk of harm to the academic. We heard about research into child sexual abuse, online harms, extremism, medical research, film and media studies involving depictions of sexual violence.

The range was huge, but the common thread was clear: this work can take a toll. For researchers with lived experience, that impact can be even heavier.

Forging a vital path

I have been funded by all faculties to work three days a week as a Research Assistant focussed specifically on researcher wellbeing at ARU. This post was initially created by Dr Theresa Redmond, my colleague at the International Policing and Public Protection Research Institute (IPPPRI), who not only founded and leads this work, but brought me in to help carry it forward.

We are now are co-chairs of the Researcher Wellbeing Network (RWN), a cross-disciplinary working group who all help to drive change. My other two days are spent working on AI-facilitated harms research with the Centre for Media, Arts and Creative Technologies (MACT). Across all of it, one thing is obvious:

It’s an abstract idea to many that ‘research’ can harm you, but it absolutely can.

We hold so much as researchers. Sensitive data, graphic stories, distressing images. Repeated exposure to harm – especially in emotionally charged or violence-related research – does something to you. But because it’s invisible, and because it’s not often normalised to talk about these impacts, it can slip through the cracks.

The personal side of this work

On a personal note, my awareness of RWB started early on during my PhD research, which focused on sibling sexual abuse. There was no formal or specific training that I could find for conducting sensitive or emotionally challenging research. I didn’t anticipate how much it would affect me.

Theresa was my First Supervisor, and we spent time discussing the potential impacts this work might have, and proactively putting in place strategies and ways we could mitigate harm to myself as the researcher. We worked together closely and had an open laptop policy, where I could always reach out for support should I need it.

I did have to reach out for support throughout the course of my PhD, and thankfully, I got it, but I’ve always felt strongly that this shouldn’t be dependent on individual initiative, or luck. Support shouldn’t be a privilege. It should be embedded.

A problem shared

Across the event, so many people spoke about feelings of isolation – how they believed they should just be able to cope. In our 2025 ARU RWB survey, that belief came up as one of the biggest barriers to asking for help.

Researchers described hypervigilance: struggling to watch the news after a day immersed in traumatic content, or viewing everyday situations through a lens of fear. One speaker mentioned seeing a man take a harmless photo on a beach, and instinctively assuming the worst. When your work revolves around harm, you start to see it everywhere.

One quote from the survey has stayed with me:

That heaviness accumulates over time. It’s difficult to process, difficult to talk about, and difficult to carry alone. And that’s why the event felt so powerful, because people finally had a space to be open, honest, and heard.

Culture change is key

RWB isn’t just about self-care tips or reactive support. It’s about changing culture: normalising the conversation, recognising the emotional labour of research, and creating systems that acknowledge the impact rather than hiding it.

We want institutions to proactively support researchers, not rely on them to ask for help when they’re already struggling. That means:

• Embedding wellbeing planning into research processes.
• Providing reflective spaces for debriefing and difficult conversations.
• Making clinical supervision standard for emotionally challenging projects.
• Ensuring policies explicitly recognise researcher wellbeing.
• Creating accountability at organisational level.

So, what’s next?

We’re already moving forward with the next phase of the work.

We’ll be carrying out qualitative follow-up interviews to deepen our understanding of RWB impacts and continuing our RWB webinar series, which we record for wider training.

We’re holding ongoing conversations with colleagues in ARU’s HR and senior leadership teams, who have been genuinely responsive and engaged, and we’re working towards an institutional business case for RWB.

To continue momentum, we’re creating a joint task and finish group with different departments across the University to identify researcher needs and options for embedding support, and we’re strengthening pockets of best practice across ARU to start making them consistent.

The feedback from last month’s event has been incredible, so we will absolutely hold another. People said how much they took from the day, and how reassuring it was simply to know they weren’t alone.

Leading by example

We’ve even been approached by colleagues at a university in Australia who are actively seeking our guidance on how to develop and embed RWB initiatives within their own institutions, as well as how to design and deliver an event for RWB in this space.

This really speaks to the growing international recognition of the importance of this work, and positions our network not just as participants in the conversation, but as leaders helping to shape how researcher wellbeing is understood and implemented globally.

There’s a lot still to do, but this event reminded me why we’re doing it. The work researchers undertake is powerful, sensitive, and often heavy, and it carries a cost. Recognising and supporting that isn’t optional. It’s essential.

This work is a collaborative effort between staff at IPPPRI, MACT, the Veterans and Families Institute (VFI), the Centre of Excellence for Equity in Uniformed Public Services (CEEUPS) and the Faculty of Arts, Humanities, Education and Social Sciences (AHESS), all at ARU.

Dr Abbie Lake, Researcher Wellbeing Research Assistant, International Policing and Public Protection Research Institute (IPPPRI)