How a grad school assignment led me to a career investigating research misconduct
I was sitting at my computer, poring over files my office had sequestered from a professor’s lab. We’d received an anonymous tip alleging the lab had published fraudulent data. As a research integrity officer, I was tasked with reviewing the data files, so I clicked on an image depicting the results of a Western blot. Sure enough, it appeared to have been digitally manipulated: Parts had been cropped and moved around in a manner that obscured the true results. The file’s metadata held a record of who generated the altered image and when, a key clue in what ended up being a massive case of research misconduct. These weren’t the tasks I would have ever imagined doing when I started graduate school. But it’s the right career for me, and I owe it to a chance assignment during a seminar class.
The professor teaching the course assigned us publications to present, and when I read mine, I noticed some of the Western blot images had been reused and relabeled in multiple figures. As a fourth year Ph.D. student, I had spent years producing those kinds of images and I knew something was wrong.
I Googled “what to do if I suspect research misconduct” and landed on a web page that suggested I reach out to a trusted mentor or to my institution’s research integrity officer—a completely foreign job title to me at the time. I decided to start with the professor teaching the seminar. I stumbled over my words as I tried to explain my concerns. He reassured me that my suspicions were justified, adding that he’d report them to the journal. A few months later the journal posted a corrigendum, with new figures in place of the old, suspicious ones.
- Julia Behnfeldt
- University of Michigan
Before this episode, I’d had no experience with wrongdoing in science; my collaborators were all careful scientists, and I trusted that the papers I was reading by others were sound. But it was hard for me to believe the original figures in the paper were produced by accident. Science wasn’t always honest, I realized—a sense that grew when I read a slew of articles about scientists found guilty of misconduct.
It was clear to me that investigating these incidents was important work; it helped strike fraudulent science from the literature and clear the names of innocent people—co-authors, grad students—whose careers were affected by the actions of others. I noticed many people investigating the incidents held Ph.D.s. The more I read and learned, the more appealing a career in research integrity became.
I had already been exploring nonresearch careers, as the grind of lab work and manuscript writing had left me deflated. Reading about science still invigorated me, but working nights and weekends did not. I wanted a 9-to-5 job that would keep me engaged in science and utilize skills I’d developed during grad school.
As I was nearing graduation, I applied for a fellowship that gave Ph.D. graduates an opportunity to work for the federal government. I hoped for a placement within the U.S. Office of Research Integrity—and that’s exactly what I got.
It was a good fit. I liked that my colleagues were all scientists. I enjoyed learning about methods for detecting falsified data. And I found my mind being challenged by the volume of details included in investigation reports, which read like true crime books.
Since then, I’ve worked in research integrity offices at two universities. I spend my days looking into misconduct allegations, assisting investigative committees, and developing training materials designed to prevent misconduct. The job can be challenging at times. For instance, it’s hard to tell scientists they’re under investigation, and I find it disheartening to uncover evidence of misconduct and the various reasons behind it—including the pressure to publish and toxic lab environments.
But overall, I enjoy the path I’m on. The work is varied and intellectually stimulating. I appreciate having my evenings and weekends free. And I like seeing positive outcomes of my work. In the case of the altered Western blot images I analyzed, for example, the clues I uncovered helped exonerate a grad student and zero in on their adviser. To me, it’s research—a different but still fulfilling kind.
