Can't wait to see you!
In just a few weeks, the 29th Annual Science and Technology Indicators (STI-ENID) Conference will take place in Bristol, and I genuinely can’t wait to see you.
That’s not just a throwaway line I put at the end of emails (though you’ve probably seen it there). It’s something I mean fully and honestly. Because for me, hosting STI-ENID 2025 isn’t just a professional milestone, it’s a deeply personal one.
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My relationship with the STI-ENID community goes back more than a decade. I arrived in Europe from Australia as a newly minted postdoc, stepping off the plane in Spain with a research contract, a suitcase, and absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into. I didn’t know a soul. I was nervous, intimidated, and frankly a little overwhelmed by the complexity and closeness of the European science policy world. But then I found this community. Or more accurately, this community found me.
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From my very first STI conference, I encountered something rare: a space that was intellectually demanding but personally generous. A network of scholars and professionals who welcomed new voices, who were genuinely curious, who made space at the table. It wasn’t just the debates or the methodologies that pulled me in (though I do love a good research impact argument); it was the people. The kindness. The laughter. The unexpected friendships that began over coffee breaks or long dinners and continue to shape my life today.
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I still remember sitting in the audience when the Leiden Manifesto was launched — a powerful, field-defining moment. I’ll never forget the sharpness and clarity of Diana Hicks and Sarah de Rijcke as they led that discussion. I also remember meeting Jesper Schneider (long before he became our ENID President) when he was a young researcher in leather trousers, riding a motorbike and already exuding the critical sharpness and good humour that he still brings today. I still remember seeing everyone for the first time after the COVID-19 lockdowns in Granada (I still have my STI-ENID2020 Aarhus notebook), and how happy we all were to be together, in person, again.
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And I know I’m not alone in feeling this way. Jens Peter Andersen from Aarhus University calls “STI our Forum Romanum, small enough to be home, not too small but diverse enough to spark new thoughts”. Kevin Boyack (Map of Science) has said he “…began his bibliometrics career at ISSI and will be ending it at STI", a fitting arc for a professional life shaped by these spaces. For Julia Melkers (Arizona State University), the most rewarding part of STI-ENID is that it is “a true community of generous and collegial scholars… a place to be energized and inspired, especially by the next generation of amazing STI researchers.” Isabelle Dorsch experiences it “…as a vibrant and lively space for exchanging and advancing our field’s developments. Surely a place to be”, while Gunnar Sivertsen (NIFU, Norway), who now calls STI his conference home, still remembers his very first presentation in Leiden in 1991 — and the sting of being laughed at. Even Jochen Gläser (TU Berlin), who admits he spends much of his time yelling at us for getting causality wrong, says “this is the only community where I can really have that conversation”. Finally, for those of our members who are experiencing STI-ENID for the first time, such as Marta Wróblewska (SWPS University, Poland), there is a sense of anticipation, “I haven’t really been part of the STI-ENID Community. And that was my mistake! Looking at the programme I feel like this is the right crowd of people for me: to learn, listen and get inspired!”
These stories echo my own. STI-ENID has shaped me not only as a researcher but as a person. It’s where I’ve tested my thinking, found collaborators, and formed lasting relationships. And I’m not just talking about academic partnerships. Through this community I’ve built a group of incredible friends. Yes, friends. We’ve shared data and deadlines, but also G&Ts, memes, and belly laughs that make the late nights and long reviews more than worthwhile. We work hard, but we laugh harder — and that joy seeps into every paper, project, and presentation we’ve done together.
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Now, I’m on the other side of that early-career experience, and I find myself introducing a new generation of scholars to this world — my own PhD students, postdocs, and early-career researchers. Watching them walk into their first STI conference reminds me of how far I’ve come. And I know that this community will do for them what it did for me: welcome them, challenge them, and help them grow. That’s the magic of STI-ENID. It’s a space where rigour and generosity coexist. Where your work matters, and your presence matters. Where someone might quote your framework one moment and then share a toast with you the next. And, delightfully, it’s a community where nobody bats an eyelid when a Lady Whistledown, or Gossip Girl-style conference email lands in their inbox. If anything, it’s met with warmth and winks because we also value personality, playfulness, and the quirks that make us who we are.
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Hosting this year’s conference in Bristol is my way of giving something back. I’ve grown up with STI-ENID, and now I get to help shape it. Together with an amazing local team and an even more amazing international community, we’ve put together a programme that reflects everything I love about this network: critical conversation, diverse voices, open debate, a little irreverence, and a lot of heart. So yes, the city is lovely, the venue is stunning, and the panel discussions will no doubt be fierce, but the real magic will be in the conversations we’ll have over coffee, the laughter in the corridors, and the quiet affirmations that remind us: this is where we belong.
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So, if you’re still thinking about whether to come, let me say this clearly: do.
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Whether you’re a long-standing member of the STI tribe or joining us for the first time, you’ll find a community that’s ready to engage with your work and welcome you as a person.
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Head to www.stienid2025.org to register, check out the programme, and start planning your visit. We’ve got a few surprises in store, plenty of substance, and a healthy dose of West Country charm.
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And when I say “I look forward to welcoming you to Bristol” — I mean it.
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Can’t wait to see you. Really.