Failure stings, and Thomas Edison knew that sting intimately. It was his reality in the quest for the lightbulb, enduring a thousand failed attempts over a decade long struggle before he tasted success. Alexander Graham Bell, too, knew the sting of rejection. A decade of tinkering and doubt nearly drowned out his vision of bridging the communication gap. Renowned Economist Amartya Sen faced early criticism for his unorthodox views on Famine and his approach to poverty measurement. Three bankruptcies couldn't stop Milton Hershey, the chocolate king, from building his candy empire. Soichiro Honda, rejected by Toyota and mocked for his early motorcycles, eventually roared onto the global stage with his own automotive behemoth. Often referred to as the "Father of the Green Revolution in India," M.S. Swaminathan encountered initial scepticism and challenges in promoting agricultural reforms. Dr. Ramachandra Guha's revisionist interpretations of Indian history initially sparked controversy. German sociologist Max Weber, was a lightning rod for controversy, but today is a pivotal figure in understanding modern society
These stories, etched in the corridors of history, are testaments that brilliance isn't born overnight, nor is it built linearly. It's forged in the crucible of failure, fueled by resilience and a flicker of hope. And especially when it comes to research, failure is a close companion, trying to evade which can be counter-productive. Let me explain how
‘To err’ is not a setback in research, it is the very nature of the pursuit. Trial and Error is a fundamental methodology of problem-solving and research. Thus, while for multiple areas of life, failure is a setback, for research, it is a critical aspect of the approach. They are partners in the journey towards understanding the world and making groundbreaking discoveries.
The roadblocks researchers face come with inherent opportunities for growth and learning hidden within each failure. Funding scarcity, for instance, can be a brutal challenge, forcing researchers to unlearn their reliance on traditional methods and relearn resourcefulness. This "failure" becomes a catalyst for creativity, leading to collaborative research initiatives, DIY experiments, and the discovery of low-cost research hacks. Encountering problems with research methodologies can feel like dead ends, tempting researchers to double down on familiar paths. But this is where the magic of unlearning traditional patterns and discarding “playing safe” truly shines as researchers are forced to forgo their reliance on established methods and embrace the unknown. They delve into new literature, engage in open discussions, and even dare to challenge long-held assumptions. Embracing failure encourages researchers to think outside the box, sparking creativity, prompting the exploration of alternative approaches. These unanticipated outcomes can be just as valuable, if not more so, than the original objectives, opening new avenues of exploration. This is not just word jargon- to substantiate the argument, here is some research backed insight- A survey by the American Psychological Association (APA) revealed that over 80% of researchers report that experiencing failure in their work has led to significant improvements in their research methods and approaches. Furthermore, consider this example- the invention of the pacemaker was, in fact, a fortunate accident. In 1956, Wilson Greatbatch was trying to build a device to record heartbeats; he accidentally installed the wrong type of resistor into his prototype, which promptly began to emit regular electrical pulses. Realising these pulses were recapitulating the electrical activity of a normal heartbeat, Greatbatch immediately saw the potential of his device. After two years of refinements, his design for a pacemaker that could be implanted into the heart was patented in 1960 and soon went into production, saving the lives of over half a million patients with slow heartbeats every year. This is not a lone standout story. In another instance, in a serendipitous twist of fate, the discovery of penicillin, the world's first true antibiotic, was anything but planned. Alexander Fleming, a bacteriologist known for his meticulous lab work, returned from vacation to find a moldy petri dish growing a strange fungus. This unwelcome guest, later identified as Penicillium notatum, had miraculously stopped the growth of bacteria around it. Fleming, intrigued by this unexpected phenomenon, nurtured the mold and meticulously studied its properties. His dedication paired with a chance encounter with a fuzzy intruder, unlocked a revolution in medicine, forever changing the course of human health. Similarly, the near-disaster of the Apollo 13 mission in 1970, though a major setback, prompted significant advancements in spacecraft design and emergency protocols, ultimately making future space missions safer. Not just that, even seemingly mundane occurrences can spark innovation. The invention of safety glass in 1903, for example, arose from the accidental dropping of a flask containing cellulose nitrate that surprisingly did not shatter. This chance event revolutionised the glass industry and led to countless applications in safety equipment and construction.
All in all, if you’re exploring the world of research and are facing setbacks, do not let it consume you. Take a leaf from the experience of all the renowned researchers before you and know that every researcher faces what you’re going through now. How you treat this setback, whether you let it demoralise you or do you dive into it, and look for new ways propelled by the failed endeavour, makes all the difference. More so in research than in any other field, failure is one big opportunity in disguise.
Despite the above, there may be a few times when the failure you encounter may truly not have any apparent discoveries or immediate benefits. Even in such scenarios though, remember the following:
The dance with failure in research is a tango with your own anxieties. The pressure to publish,to secure funding, and ascend the academic ladder amplifies the music, turning stress and anxiety into unwanted partners. It's easy to feel alone, burdened by the stigma in a field that celebrates only the victors. But remember, the cliff edge of failure isn't your final destination; it's a chance to learn a new move. Every failed experiment is a lesson, a chance to refine your approach, build resilience, and uncover hidden truths. So embrace the stumbles, my fellow researcher, for the most beautiful discoveries are born in the messy tango with failure. The trial-and-error process, as messy as it is, plays a crucial role in scientific advancement. Each misstep, each failed hypothesis, illuminates a path not to take, guiding us closer to the right one. We learn from the unexpected twists and turns, refining our approaches, building resilience, and uncovering hidden truths that might have remained buried under a smoother, linear journey.
As Roy T. Bennett reminds us, "The one who falls and gets up is stronger than the one who never tried. Do not fear failure but rather fear not trying."
So, fellow researcher, the next time that experiment throws you a curveball, don't slink away in the shadows. Share your stumbles, celebrate your learning detours. Let’s rewrite the narrative together, one open conversation at a time. Let's build a research world where the stigma of failure fades and curiosity reigns supreme. Remember, the most breathtaking discoveries often hide on the other side of a misstep. So, dust yourself off, embrace the unknown, and keep going. And if ever the voice from inside of you is not encouraging enough, remember Edison, Bell, Curie, Webber, Ambedkar and the rest. They teach us that even the greatest journeys begin with a single, shaky step, and that sometimes, the most illuminating light shines brightest after the darkest hour.