It all started with a tiny chip making its way into the biology laboratory and into my curiosity as a bioengineer: a microfluidic chip. This small device manipulates fluids through microscopic channels. Within this chip, I cultured human cells under flow and pressure, giving life to an organ-on-a-chip. This technology mimics the functions of an organ in the body. From 2018 to 2023, I developed these in vitro (cell-based) models, which, alongside in silico (computer-simulated) models, have the potential to address certain research questions without requiring the use of animals. In Switzerland, animal studies are permitted only when no suitable alternative exists. For me, advancing such alternative methods felt like pursuing sustainability in the life sciences by seeking innovative, ethical, and responsible solutions for both research and animals.

Working at the 3Rs interface today, I design training concepts so that Replace, Reduce, Refine becomes a routine principle for the use of animals in research. The role brings me into conversation with researchers, regulators, and the public sphere, and has confirmed a truth I already sensed as a non-animal method developer: evidence matters, but rules, incentives, and societal values often determine whether good ideas and promising technologies truly take root. Navigating this multi-actor landscape sparked my curiosity about how evidence informs decisions, and how technology and policy can jointly shape more sustainable futures. This curiosity inspired a personal initiative to enrol in the continuing education programme CAS ETH in Technology and Public Policy: Policy Process in Spring 2025.

When the programme began, I immediately delved into a rich module in political science. I started to understand how decisions take shape across different levels, mapping Swiss, European, and global governance, and revealing how policies are made. I could connect the dots in the context of drug testing on animal models, reflecting on how Swissmedic (Swiss Agency for Therapeutic Products), the EMA (European Medicines Agency), and the WHO (World Health Organization) function and intersect. This perspective now helps me identify where to monitor international developments and regulatory changes.

As the programme unfolded, I found myself exploring sectors far beyond health, such as mobility and energy. I could recognise familiar patterns in how technology, society, markets, and the state interact. Why do some innovations flourish while others stall? I realised that context, incentives, and beliefs, especially in ethically charged topics like animal use in research, often set the pace. A class on long-term socio-technical transitions gave me a new lens to recognise the signs of change: how technological, social, and institutional shifts gradually align before a transformation truly unfolds. This was an eye-opener, helping me analyse the ongoing adoption of alternative technologies to animal models and reminding me that change often builds quietly, long before it becomes visible.

These lessons resonate in my daily work, where I see firsthand how change is cumulative and built through many small steps by dedicated minds and hands driven by a commitment to more humane science. Thanks to the programme’s focus on stakeholder engagement and communication, I’ve refined how to listen, analyse, and translate between communities: technology developers, end-users, policymakers, and the wider public – each with its own hopes, language, and pace.

One of my favourite parts of the programme was designing a public participation process on animal use in research. It challenged me to think not just as a scientist or educator, but as a facilitator of dialogue. Together with my peers, we imagined a deliberative space where citizens and experts could learn from one another, carefully considering transparency, expectations, and power dynamics. The key takeaway stayed with me: participation should be a two-way learning journey, not a technocratic exercise.

Reflecting on this step into the policy world, I highly value the CAS as an enabler for understanding how technology and policy interact in a world where both technological breakthroughs and sustainability challenges grow increasingly complex. Just as in biomedical and health research, many areas of public policy today are deeply shaped by scientific and technical knowledge, calling for more “bilinguals” who can navigate both worlds with fluency and empathy. I see such interdisciplinary learning as essential to help close the loop between discovery and society, fostering evidence-informed dialogue and strengthening our collective ability to understand options and make thoughtful choices.

“I agree to disagree” is a common phrase among policy experts, though at the ETH Global Lecture on Improving Public Policy Through Science on 7^th October, there was remarkable alignment on one key point: bridging the worlds of science and politics is both essential and challenging.

Attending the Lecture was both enlightening and thought-provoking. The event brought together Walter Thurnherr, former Federal Chancellor of Switzerland, and Professor Tobias Schmidt, Director of the Institute of Science, Technology and Policy at ETH Zurich, in a conversation moderated by Julie Cantalou, former Co-Secretary General of the Swiss Green Liberal Party, whose background made the discussion especially relevant and insightful. Together, they explored one of the most crucial and complex questions of our time:

How can science truly inform and improve public policy?

From the very start, it was clear that bridging the worlds of science and politics requires more than just good intentions, it demands mutual understanding, patience, and trust. Thurnherr reminded us that while “science goes for truth,” policymakers often aim for what aligns with the majority’s will. This inherent tension, he argued, doesn’t make collaboration impossible, in fact it simply makes it essential. Without scientific evidence, policies risk losing direction; without political pragmatism, science risks losing relevance.

Professor Schmidt provided a complementary perspective, emphasizing that public policy is not a sprint but a marathon. Building trust between scientists and policymakers takes time, consistency, and empathy. He encouraged researchers to communicate without jargon, to make their findings understandable to those outside their fields, and to create long-term “policy cycles” that ensure science is continuously integrated into decision-making. His message was clear: it is not just about producing knowledge, but it is about making knowledge usable.

The discussion also introduced the exciting vision behind the new ETH School of Public Policy to be launched soon, led by Schmidt, which aims to become a leading hub for dialogue between research and governance. Its mission is threefold: to educate the next generation of scientists about policymaking, to conduct cutting-edge research that supports evidence-based decisions, and to foster ongoing dialogues between academia and government. Thurnherr described it as an ambitious but vital initiative – one that will require not just more science, but structures, incentives, and strong institutional support for those willing to operate at the science-policy interface. He noted that many of the world’s challenges, from managing AI and digital transformation to addressing complex national and international challenges, are deeply rooted in technology, making ETH’s role more relevant than ever.

One of the most striking reflections came when Thurnherr posed a question to the audience:

“Would we be better off if we had seven Nobel prize laureates in the Federal Council (Switzerland) to solve the problems of public policy?”

His point was profound – while science provides facts and evidence, policymaking also involves ethics, values, and societal priorities. Both worlds must work hand in hand, respecting their different but complementary roles.

As I listened, I found myself reflecting on the importance of communication and humility in this process. It’s not enough to have the right data; what truly matters is how we convey it, how we listen, and how we collaborate. The future of good governance lies not only in innovation and technology but also in building trust between experts and citizens.

My key takeaway from this inspiring evening is that evidence-informed policymaking is, at its core, about people — scientists who step beyond their laboratories, policymakers who are open to listening, and institutions like ETH Zurich that foster spaces for genuine dialogue. Thurnherr also reminded us that ETH’s original mission in the 19th century — to educate engineers who directly served the needs of the country — remains just as relevant today. Back then, science and policy were closely intertwined, and perhaps it’s time to reclaim that spirit. As he aptly noted, it is often the challenges themselves that bring science and politics together — and through that exchange, meaningful solutions can emerge.

Leaving the event, I felt hopeful. ETH Zurich is not only advancing scientific excellence but also nurturing a culture of responsibility, one where knowledge serves the common good, and where collaboration between science and society is seen as a shared journey toward a better future. I found myself reflecting on the role ETH Zurich can play in this transformation. With its long-standing reputation as a trusted source of knowledge and a culture rooted in integrity and innovation, ETH is uniquely positioned to lead the way in connecting science with the societal good.

Check out the pictures from the event here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/meeteth/albums/72177720329550116/

And in case you missed, watch the talk here:

Around the world, universities are producing record numbers of doctoral graduates—over 60,000 PhDs each year in the United States alone, with similar figures across Europe. Yet academic opportunities remain scarce. In many disciplines, only a small fraction—sometimes as low as ten to twenty percent—will secure long-term university posts.

This imbalance forces us to rethink the purpose and trajectory of advanced social science training. If the majority of graduates will not remain in academia, then research must be reimagined in ways that connect more directly to the pressing challenges of our time. The future of social science, I believe, lies in its capacity to embed itself in practice—whether in humanitarian action, diplomacy, business, or the governance of emerging technologies.

This conviction took on a new depth during my time as a guest researcher at the Center for Security Studies (CSS) at ETH Zurich. What I encountered there was not a purely academic environment, but a community that actively bridged conceptual rigor with the practical concerns of those working on the frontlines of security and humanitarian policy. CSS does not treat theory and practice as separate worlds; it treats them as two sides of the same coin.

Working on digital risks in humanitarian action, in a project carried out together with the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), I saw scholarship on cybersecurity, digital governance, and technological change feed directly into operational strategies and policy debates. These were not abstract discussions. They brought together practitioners facing urgent, real-world dilemmas and researchers able to turn complex ideas into clear frameworks, practical advice, and usable tools. In this environment, the boundary between academic research and problem-solving was constantly shifting—and, more importantly, it became a productive space where both sides learned from each other.

What struck me most about CSS was its ability to function as a kind of living laboratory for applied social science. Researchers were not distant observers but active participants in ongoing conversations with policymakers, humanitarian professionals, and security experts. At CSS, this ethos was clear: researchers moved between conceptual debates about digital sovereignty and the practical challenges of helping organizations navigate cyber vulnerabilities or anticipate conflicts. This interplay showed that social scientists can move beyond the confines of academia, offering contributions that are not only analytically rigorous but also practically consequential.

Looking back, this experience offered me a glimpse of what the future of social science might look like. It is not a future in which theory is discarded, but one in which theory is constantly tested, challenged, and reshaped by the realities of the world. It is a future where social scientists speak meaningfully to humanitarian actors navigating new forms of conflict, to businesses grappling with digital transformation, and to governments confronting the complex intersections of climate, security, and governance.

For me, ETH Zurich’s Center for Security Studies embodied this vision. It showed that social science can be both rigorous and relevant, both analytical and applied. It also demonstrated that preparing the next generation of researchers means preparing them not only for academic careers, but for meaningful contributions across the many sectors where knowledge and practice must come together.