The “Gollum Effect”: How Possessiveness Paralyzes Science

Mr. Valdez, you recently published a study in which you described the so-called "Gollum Effect." What exactly does this term mean?

The term describes a behavior in everyday scientific practice in which people believe they own a topic and defend it with everything they have - whether subtle or openly confrontational. My colleague and I actually coined the term because we repeatedly observed certain behaviors in research. There were cases of mobbing, of subtle exclusion, of open blocking. At first, these things seemed very different, but at some point it became clear: the common denominator is this feeling of ownership. Along the lines of: This is my topic, my field, my method - and no one else is allowed to touch it.

And why this name in particular?

We deliberately chose the term "Gollum Effect" because it immediately conjures up images. Many people know Gollum from "The Lord of the Rings" and the "My precious!" that this character always hisses whenever someone tries to take his ring away – it was precisely this feeling we wanted to capture. To reclaim power, you have to give things a name. If we had simply called the phenomenon "territorial behavior in science," it probably would have been lost in the mass of scientific texts. I believe that science should be understandable – even for people who don't read papers. I always try to write in such a way that even my grandmother could say, "Ah, yes, I understand that."

How does such a strong sense of ownership arise in science?

A large part of this behavior has to do with the extreme competition in science. There are only limited resources – limited positions, funding, attention. And many of these Gollum moments ultimately arise from fear: fear of losing expert status if someone new suddenly starts working on the same topic. Fear of no longer receiving funding. Or, more fundamentally, the fear of losing control over a topic on which one may have built one's entire career. The result is that one puts up fences around one's field of research, building a kind of territory in which only oneself has the say. And that is no coincidence, but a symptom of the hyper-competitive structure of science. It's like "everyone against everyone" – and that leads to this gatekeeping, that is, the constant monitoring and demarcation of who belongs and who doesn't.

Dr. Jose Valdez has also experienced the “Gollum effect” in his immediate environment.

Source: Private

There are actually clear rules and ethical guidelines in science that are intended to prevent precisely this kind of behavior – why do they apparently not apply here?

Issues such as bullying, exclusion, and gatekeeping in academia have only really been openly discussed in the last few years. In the past, people often said, "Well, that's just how it is in academia . " But these kinds of behaviors are often a manifestation of the Gollum effect. And sure, there are ethical guidelines. But what good does that do you if you're a doctoral student at the very bottom of the ladder and your supervisor has been at the university for 30 years and raises millions in grants? Who would seriously oppose that? The problem is structural: publish or perish—that's the motto. This creates pressure and leads to toxic dynamics that have been accepted as normal for far too long.

What are the consequences of the Gollum effect?

For individuals, the Gollum effect often means lost opportunities, shattered self-confidence—and, not infrequently, a complete withdrawal from science. For science as a whole, the damage is enormous. When ideas are kept under wraps instead of being openly shared and developed further, progress suffers. Innovation requires exchange. If that's lacking, science loses—and with it, we all lose.

In your study, you show that only about a third of those affected actively defend themselves against Gollum behavior. Why do so many remain silent – ​​despite negative experiences?

The difficult thing is: many of these "Gollums" are well connected, established, and hold key positions. If you, as a young scientist, stand up to them, it can quickly backfire – even leading to "blacklisting." Then, behind closed doors, people say: It's better not to work with that person . And as a young researcher, you know: the safest course is often to remain silent – ​​even if that means giving up on your own idea. Sometimes you have to involve people just to avoid conflict – as a co-author, for example, even though they haven't contributed anything. Simply because they have influence: in funding applications, in paper reviews, in careers. I often say: science may be based on objective methods, but it's not just about data and theories, it's also about power, politics, and egos. And anyone who doesn't play by the rules quickly risks being shut out.

Your study paints a rather disturbing picture of the scientific system. Isn't there a risk that such insights could undermine public trust in research?

It's important to note that the Gollum Effect has nothing to do with the debate about trust in science in the sense of "The data is manipulated" or "The researchers have an agenda." It's not about scientific findings being wrong. Ultimately, science is still science. Rather, it's about internal dynamics—that is, questions of power, vanity, and who is allowed to research what.

What exactly is your study supposed to convey – what is really important to you in the end?

We face enormous challenges such as biodiversity loss and climate change. To achieve this, we need rapid, open, and collaborative work. But when good ideas are thwarted because someone is defending their territory, it delays potential solutions. That's why we believe that honesty about the weaknesses in the system ultimately strengthens trust in science. After all, it is a human system—not perfect, but changeable.