There’s a peculiar pressure that comes with the Laidlaw program. Pressure from within stems from knowing that the success of your research project is entirely on your own initiative. There is no fixed schedule, no one telling you what to do next, and, in my opinion, most importantly, no one telling you to stop or slow down.
That pressure doesn't come from a bad place. It probably drove me to apply and still drives me to work. Nobody is forced to become a Laidlaw Scholar. We choose our projects because we have a genuine interest in the subject and believe that the questions we ask must be answered. Our motivation is intrinsic.
The project belongs entirely to you and thus becomes personal. The standards are self-imposed, and for that reason, they can be remarkably difficult to ignore. Wording can always be improved, another citation can always be read, and an assumption can always be critiqued. You develop an almost icarian temptation to keep working one more hour.
A half-finished paragraph follows me as I leave my desk. It feels like I left the house without brushing my teeth, an irritating awareness that I have failed to do something necessary. Taking a break begins to feel like neglecting a responsibility.
Enter James Bond
After spending a day disregarding the 20-20-20 rule and reading myself blind. I put on From Russia with Love, almost in rejection of anything academic.
The choice was not entirely random. When I was a child, I remember watching them on the red-eye flights between Hong Kong and London over the summer. Rewatching Sean Connery's Bond, I was reminded that some aspects of the films have aged considerably better than others. Bond is a cultural artefact as much as an action franchise. Watching the films now feels like peering into a different period, complete with all of its assumptions and contradictions. The Cold War intrigue remains entertaining; Bond himself, especially Connery’s portrayal, occasionally feels like a relic of another era.
Despite this, I kept coming back to the Bond Movies during the summer. Not because they were without fault, but because they gave me a welcome respite from the constant engagement in my research. Research demands that you be constantly critical. Everything has to be questioned, everything has to be challenged, and every conclusion needs to be tested. It was comfortable to consume a story that wasn't asking much of me.
After my research, I could switch my brain off and just enjoy A story with obvious villains, clear stakes and the world saved in two hours.
There is something beautiful about how uncomplicated charcoal cooking is. Research is built on iteration; a source can always be reread, and progress feels provisional. In contrast, once the charcoal is lit and the food goes on the grill, you've committed. Whilst there are, of course, decisions to make, there is little value in second-guessing them. The meat is cooked or not, and unlike a draft, there is no opportunity to endlessly revise the final product.
I found it liberating. Once the food is on the plate, the moment has passed, you accept the outcome and move on.
Spicy Mango Prawns
The intrinsic motivation that makes the Laidlaw Program rewarding is also what makes it impossible to switch off. Sean Connery’s raised eyebrow and nearly burning off my own proved to be exactly what I needed to find my balance.
Student, University of St Andrews
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Love this Luke! If I may ask, what is your favourite thing to grill?