Natalie

Why I’m still using Roam Research in 2026

I first signed up to Roam on 28 December 2019.

Before that I’d used many different pieces of software to take notes, including but not limited to OneNote, EverNote, Todoist, etc. I’d had random floating Word docs aplenty. Since then I’ve tried other apps like Notion and Obsidian.

Roam is by far the best note-taking tool I’ve ever used. I’m still using it in 2026. In this post I’ll explain what I use Roam for and why it’s still my go-to.

Why care about a productivity app?

But first, why care? Those who know me from work may think this post is a bit random. After all, it’s just a note-taking app.

The way I see it, however, optimising productivity is mission-critical. My professional mission is simple: to contribute what I can to halting dangerous climate change, which at the moment is via phasing out oil and gas production and ending public finance to fossil fuels. Besides, in my personal life I have various goals and dreams. I care about those missions, goals and dreams a lot, and if a piece of software gives me a leg up on that, you bet I’m going to use it.

Now, your mission may well be different than mine. But regardless of what your goals and visions are, I’d argue that a good note-taking app will nearly always help.

Put another way, if optimising my note-taking and project management makes me just 2% better at my job, that’s well worth it for me. (I think the true number here is more like 5-10%.)

Roam is my exo-brain

So, on to the substance. What is Roam? Well, it’s an indispensable tool for thinking. I have used it, for example, to

journal,
take reading notes,
take research notes for, and outline, my book,
manage my projects at work,
manage relationships,
make to-do lists,
set and track goals,
and much more besides.

Each day that I log in, a new daily notes page is automatically generated and becomes my homepage. Here’s an excerpt from one of mine:

RIP my evening plans.

One of the most genius features of Roam is the bidirectional links. It’s very simple to create a new page: when you’re typing on any page, just put double square brackets around a word or words, which then becomes an empty page. In the screenshot above, an example of a page is [[A: IISD job]], in blue. When you click on [[A: IISD job]], at the bottom you can see every time [[A: IISD job]] has been mentioned on any other page. That simple improvement in functionality enables all kinds of linkages to form and be recognised.

The bidirectional links mean that if I click on, for example, [[A: IISD job]] I can see all my notes relating to my job, organised under each day (and also under projects & any other pages I’ve created relating to my job).

Project management

One of the main things I’ve used Roam for is project management. It’s easy to create kanban boards, for instance. Here’s an example of one of mine:

Lol sorry about the redactions, but you get the idea

I use “P” in my page titles to stand for “project”. At a glance I can see everything I have on my plate. When I worked as an academic, I had a kanban for papers I had on the go, with a column for each stage of the publication process.

I still technically have that kanban, it’s just a bit empty now.

Each project has its own page, which contains timelines, to-dos, links to relevant people, reading notes, and back-links to the notes I take on my daily notes page related to that project. On that page I can also set reminders for myself that automatically pop up on my daily notes (ie my homepage) on a given date. That is very handy for managing project timelines.

Powerful reading notes

A second way I use Roam is to make reading notes. These aren’t just any reading notes, however. Any time I’m making notes from something I’m reading, and the writer refers to another work, be that a book, legal case, or blog post, I can very easily create a page for that new reference and, if I want, create a reminder for myself to read it. If I’ve already read that other work, even better – I can link to my pre-existing page about it.

This was a true game-changer when writing my book. I could easily navigate the web of citations among case law, international treaties, and secondary literature.

An example from an (old!) reading notes page. The tags function as pages as well — so if I click on #CIL, for instance, I can see all the notes I’ve ever taken relating to customary international law.

It’s not only easy to link to another page — you can even link to a single block (bullet point) within that page. I have outlined entire academic articles this way — incorporating notes and quotes from various sources structured with my own thoughts. The writing process is never easy or simple, but at least with this technology it’s possible to gather one’s sources effortlessly. And, speaking of effortlessness…

Effortless relationship management

I hate to break it to you, but if we’ve ever interacted since December 2019, you probably have a dedicated page in my Roam.

All I have to do is type in a name in Roam, with some square brackets around it, and it creates a page. When I click on that page I can see a record of every time I’ve made a note of our meetings/interactions for the last 6 years, alongside anything I want to remember about that person (how we met, their birthday, what have you).

It’s quite fun because often I’ll come across things I completely forgot about. It’s like a journal, but supercharged.

Why not Notion/Obsidian/etc?

In the years since Roam was reallly big in, like, 2020-2021, several other note-taking apps have taken off. Why not switch?

Okay, so…. the answer is partly “lock-in.” In no other app can I easily see what I was reading, writing and thinking in 2020. Yes, I could in theory export all my pages from Roam and upload them into another app. But for that hassle I’d want to see clear advantages, and no other app has demonstrated these. Yes, Notion is prettier. But is it that much better than Roam? Having played around with it, I don’t think so.

The other main reason is that I just really like Roam and have no desire to switch. The hype has largely passed, but the underlying product is still solid. It’s completely intuitive to use at this point, and feels cosy.

I also have a lot of respect for Roam as the note-taking app that changed the game. A lot of other apps have essentially copied it (and I hear even EverNote has implemented bidirectional links these days) but Roam was the first of its kind, and to me that inspires loyalty.

Finally, Roam has never tried to force generative AI on its users. This is a big one. It feels like the Roam team really value actual human thought. And so do I.

How does all of this interact with my paper notebook?

If you know me from work then you’ll have seen me toting around my large black notebook. There are three reasons for this. First, quite simply, it’s not always convenient or appropriate to be typing notes on a laptop at an in-person meeting. Second, I find that I retain more information when I hand-write.

Third, it’s often quite nice to be able to take oneself away from screens in order to do some deep work. Of course, if my hand-written pages are any good I’ll be transferring them to Roam later. But sometimes it’s just about the process of hand writing itself.

When I’m using my paper notebook, which isn’t every day, at the end of each day I note down the key points/highlights in Roam as far as they’re useful.

Inspired?

I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface of what I use Roam for and why I like it.

If you are inspired by this post to check out Roam, let me know how you get on! I’d be interested to hear your experience. Or let me know what other app you use & love.

What I Read in 2025

It’s been five years since I did a round-up of my 2020 reading. I had good feedback on that post, with many people telling me it had inspired them to pick up a book. After several years of not keeping good track of my reading, I decided to do it again — both for my own interest, and hopefully to again give others some inspo for their TBR piles.

The main question I got from last time was: how do you read so much? The main reasons are:

I don’t own a TV. I have next to no desire to watch TV and this means I have a lot of time that other people might spend on watching series.
I read quickly. I always have done. But I have no good tips to increase your reading speed, sorry.
I have a truly excellent public library that uses a great e-book/audiobook app called Libby. Probably about 3/4 of the books I read this year, I read on Libby — for free! I highly recommend finding yourself a public library.

The main thing that’s changed from 2020 is that reading books no longer forms a significant part of my full-time job. Now, I read almost exclusively in mornings, evenings and weekends. If there’s one thing I miss about academia, or at least the privileged version of it that I occupied, uninterrupted hours of reading time is that thing.

The second thing that’s changed is that I got really into audiobooks this year. I listened to books while running, gymming, walking, hiking, on the Overground, on the bus, on the tube, on the aeroplane — everywhere. But for some reason I can only listen to non-fiction. Fiction I save for reading visually.

Upon reviewing the below, what stands out to me is that I was big into memoir this year. Queer fiction/memoir in particular formed a big theme. Conversely, I read less political economy than in the past, preferring lighter fare.

Without further ado, here’s the list:

Fiction

All That We Know by Shilo Kino. Very funny and cutting.
Poorhara by Michelle Rahurahu. I found the sections in text slang quite hard to read but other than that really enjoyed this book.
Amma by Saraid de Silva. I liked the way that certain characters’ hair almost became its own character in the story.
Chrysalis by Anna Metcalfe. Quite strange and I’m not sure whether I enjoyed it.
Pond by Claire-Louise Bennett. I was very late to the Pond party, but so glad I got there in the end. A wonderfully weird book.
But the Girl by Jessica Zhan Mei Yu. I loved the intertextuality of this book, especially the commentary on Sylvia Plath.
The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley. One of my top four books of 2025. An absolute ripper of a novel.
Waist Deep by Linea Maja Ernst. I read this straight after MoT and found the contrast somewhat jarring as this book contains so much interiority whereas the other is very plot-driven. Will read again at another time.
Ordinary Saints by Niamh Nì Mhaoilcoin. Weirdly foreshadowed certain aspects of my year.
Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters. Also late to the party on this one, which I really enjoyed.
Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. This made me want to read more by him.
Fair Play by Tove Jansson. Ah, Tove Jansson! This book was absolutely glorious.
Stag Dance by Torrey Peters. I wished the short stories had each been novels in their own right.
Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. My favourite of hers that I’ve read so far, and utterly devastating.
Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata. Just as good as everyone says.
Gunk by Saba Sams. This book made me want to live in Brighton.
Swimming Home by Deborah Levy. Omg this book.
Intermezzo by Sally Rooney. My favourite Rooney so far. I loved the way the chapters for each of the brothers differed in style and tone.
The Words of Dr L by Karen E Bender. This book should be better known.
Eileen by Ottessa Moshfegh. The twist near the end is utterly spine-tingling.
The Summer Book by Tove Jansson. A classic for a reason.
Filthy Animals by Brandon Taylor. Not much to say except that I really enjoyed it.
All Fours by Miranda July. I loved this; it’s hilarious.
On the Calculation of Volume I by Solvej Balle. Oddly compelling. I cannot wait to read the sequels.
Aerth by Deborah Tompkins. Reminds me of Ursula K Le Guin’s writings, in that it’s as much about politics and economics as it is about science and technology.
Whale Fall by Elizabeth O’Connor. Completely devastating and a strong contender for one of my favourite books of the year.
Earthlings by Sayaka Murata. Very weird.
Saga (Volumes 1-11) by Brian K Vaughan and Fiona Staples. So good. Thanks to Bernard for the recommendation.
I Gave You Eyes and You Looked Towards Darkness by Irene Solà. This book really leans into the grotesque and gets quite weird.
Vanishing World by Sayaka Murata. Also very weird.
Consider Yourself Kissed by Jessica Stanley. Very nice to read something set in my corner of London.
Universality by Natasha Brown. Very clever; I loved the characters.
Since the World is Ending by Indyana Schneider. Schneider writes about classical music in a way no other author I’ve encountered does. Her descriptions of pieces flow perfectly into the story.
The City and its Uncertain Walls by Haruki Murakami. Completely haunting.
Wild Boar by Hannah Lutz. Primal and strange and very good.
Enter Ghost by Isabella Hammad. I think I talked about this book to everyone I met for about a month. So good.
Dream Count by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. I wanted the whole book to have been from Kadiatou’s perspective.
Territory of Light by Yuko Tsushima. The light in the apartment! So good.
Moderation by Elaine Castillo. A strong contender for one of my favourite books of the year, and probably my second favourite novel.
Girlbeast by Cecilie Lind. Probably the most distinctive and poetic writing style of any novel I’ve read this year. Expanded my conception of what a novel can be.
The South by Tash Aw. Heartbreaking and very good.
La Belle Sauvage by Philip Pullman. Re-read and much better the second time around.
Lyra’s Oxford by Philip Pullman. Re-read, and my favourite of PP’s “little” books.
Once Upon a Time in the North by Philip Pullman. Re-read.
Serpentine by Philip Pullman. Re-read.
The Collectors by Philip Pullman. Not a re-read, and quite weird.
The Imagination Chamber by Philip Pullman. Very sweet and nostalgic.
The Secret Commonwealth by Philip Pullman. Re-read, and also much better the second time around.
The Rose Field by Philip Pullman. I loved this (albeit with some major quibbles).
Hospital by Sanya Rushdi. Everyone should read this book.

Poetry & Letters

Time is a Mother by Ocean Vuong. What to possibly say about Vuong. I’ll be returning to this book.
Love Letters by Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West. Will someone be publishing books of whatsapp messages one day??
In the Hollow of the Wave by Nina Mingya Powles. I loved how this book integrated sewing, fabric and texture.
Echidna by essa may ranapiri. I loved essa’s first collection and I loved their second too.
Wild Dogs Under My Skirt by Tusiata Avia. Evocative and quite lovely.
Giving Birth to My Father by Tusiata Avia. Hit me right in the heart.

Memoir & Essays

Arrangements in Blue by Amy Key. Loved it; quite insightful on Joni Mitchell.
Swimming Studies by Leanne Shapton. One of my top four books of 2025, serendipitously picked up in the marvellous D&Q bookshop in Montreal.
Desperately Seeking Semen by Hayley Hendrix. Picked up from my building’s lobby/community library, this is a one-of-a-kind account of the author’s quest to have a child.
Things I Don’t Want to Know by Deborah Levy. I already know I’ll be coming back to this trilogy (+TPOS) time and time again.
The Cost of Living by Deborah Levy.
Real Estate by Deborah Levy.
The Position of Spoons by Deborah Levy.
Uncommon Measure by Natalie Hodges. This book has some really great descriptions of what Bach’s music is like.
Not That I’d Kiss a Girl by Lil O’Brien. Hilarious.
Fun Home by Alison Bechdel. Bechdel is brilliant.
Minor Feelings by Cathy Park Hong. I don’t remember much about this book, which I’m not sure is an indictment of it or of me.
The Collected Schizophrenias by Esme Weijun Wang. The hype around this book was totally deserved.
A Man’s Place by Annie Ernaux. Honestly all the Ernaux I read this year kind of blurred into one. It was all moving, gutting, and transcendent.
Happening by Annie Ernaux.
Simple Passion by Annie Ernaux.
The Young Man by Annie Ernaux.
Exteriors by Annie Ernaux.
Love in Exile by Shon Faye. Of course love is political, we all knew it, but this book spells it out in the most gripping way. Also, it’s laugh-out-loud funny.
The Loves of My Life by Edmund White. Stunning.
The Centre Cannot Hold by Elyn R Saks. Lucid and compelling.
Pageboy by Elliot Page. Trans rights = human rights.
Readme.txt by Chelsea Manning. A remarkable story.
Tiny Moons: A Year of Eating in Shanghai by Nina Mingya Powles. A re-read; made me hungry.
Bluets by Maggie Nelson. Another re-read of this mysterious and enigmatic little book.
The Woman In Me by Britney Spears. Picked up from a sidewalk library in Machynlleth, this was a surprisingly good read.
Translating Myself and Others by Jhumpa Lahiri. I think I would have benefited from reading other works of hers before jumping straight into this one.
Mom & Me & Mom by Maya Angelou. I always wonder at how people who write memoirs about their childhood manage to remember so much in so much lucid detail, and this book is no exception.
Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner. Vital; manages to transform heartbreak into something transcendent.
Completely Normal and Totally Fine by Rosie Viva. Unexpectedly laughed out loud during this one.
I Want to Die But I Want to Eat Tteokbokki by Baek Sehee. The author passed away while I was reading this book — RIP.
Careless People by Sarah Wynn-Williams. One of my top four books of 2025. Totally wild and I think I’ve recommended it to everyone I know at this point.
Slowing the Sun by Nadine Hura. Essential reading–especially on connections between colonisation and climate change.
Kissing Girls on Shabbat by Sara Glass. Soooo good. One of the best memoirs I read this year.
Pathemata by Maggie Nelson. A compact book ostensibly about one thing (jaw pain) but actually about a lot of things (grief, love, covid…)

Society, Politics & Economics

Becoming Tangata Tiriti by Avril Bell. Packs a lot into a little book.
Perfect Victims and the Politics of Appeal by Mohammed El-Kurd. One of the best books I’ve read about Palestine.
No Straight Road Takes You There by Rebecca Solnit. Solnit does it again!!
The Transgender Issue by Shon Faye. Required reading, and has only aged better over time.
Doppelganger by Naomi Klein. Loved this, especially the attempt to engage properly with conspiracy theorists.
One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This by Omar El Akkad. Oof. This book really hammers it home.
Minority Rule by Ash Sarkar. I honestly can’t remember much about this book, alas!
Recognising the Stranger: On Palestine and Narrative by Isabella Hammad. A short yet vital account of the stories we tell.
The Unsettled by Richard Shaw. One in the great tradition of books by Pākeha attempting to understand and ‘unsettle’ their family history.
Butts: A Backstory by Heather Radke. A fun and funny romp through the cultural history of bums, which of course ends up being all about gender and race.
Empireworld by Sathnam Sanghera. An insightful account into how the legacies of British empire permeate the whole world. Thanks to Alisha for the recommendation.
We, the Heartbroken by Gargi Bhattacharyya. Ideal bath reading.
The Financial Colonisation of Aotearoa by Catherine Comyn. This book is essential for understanding Aotearoa New Zealand’s past and present. I learned a lot!

International Law

The Human Right to Resist in International and Constitutional Law by Shannonbrooke Murphy. I reviewed this book for EJIL and shortly you’ll be able to read my review!

Nature, Climate & Environment

The Language of Climate Politics by Genevieve Guenther. Guenther expertly exposes the narratives and language used by climate deniers/delayers.
Crude Britannia by James Marriott and Terry Macalister. I liked the way they wove in music into the book, which is otherwise about oil politics and economics.
All We Can Save by Ayana Elizabeth Johnson and Katharine K Wilkinson (eds). Beautiful and powerful essays.
The Destruction of Palestine is the Destruction of the Earth by Andreas Malm. Highly recommend this book for anyone who wants to know about the longue durée of Palestine and climate.
Thirst by Robert Macfarlane et al. A short collection of essays and poems about fresh water: vital.
Dispersals by Jessica J Lee. Very beautiful and ideal hiking reading.
Strata by Laura Poppick. Makes me wish I had studied geology!
Here Comes the Sun by Bill McKibben. Maybe the most uplifting climate book I read this year. Solar is the future (and, increasingly, the present).
Is a River Alive? by Robert Macfarlane. One of my top four books of 2025. I recommend the audiobook version (read by the author).
The Climate Diplomat by Peter Betts. An indispensable insider account of climate negotiations. The descriptions of UK civil service politics are especially enlightening/frustrating.
The Long Heat by Wim Carton and Andreas Malm. Compelling and well-argued account of how not to tackle climate change.

Music

Nurtured by Love by Shinichi Suzuki. After reading several books by Dr Suzuki this year, this is the only one that you really need, in my opinion.
House of Music by Kadiatu Kanneh-Mason. Oh my word. Kadiatu is quite a woman.
Memories of Dr Shinichi Suzuki by Lois Shepheard. A very nice account of one woman’s time in Matsumoto.
Shinichi Suzuki: His Speeches and Essays by Shinichi Suzuki. A bit repetitive with other Suzuki books.
Ability Development from Age Zero by Shinichi Suzuki. My second-favourite of Suzuki’s books.
Suzuki: The man and his dream to teach the children of the world by Eri Hotta. The definitive account of Suzuki — very well researched and written.
Man and Talent: Search into the unknown by Shinichi Suzuki. This one comes across as a bit dated.
Quartet by Leah Broad. A really well-researched group biography of four women composers in the 20th century. I loved this book especially because it introduced me to a lot of music I hadn’t heard before.

Management

The Making of a Manager by Julie Zhuo. I read this for work, since I’ve recently become a manager, and found it really helpful.

My advice for a student hoping to get a job in climate

Every month I speak to at least two or three students who have reached out to me, usually on LinkedIn, who are hoping to get a job once they graduate in the climate space. I figure for each of these people there are probably two more who would love to know this information but for whatever reason don’t like to send cold connection requests.

As a caveat, my experience specifically comes from working in climate policy, in a thinktank. The climate space is much bigger than policy. I can only write to what I know. Your mileage may vary!

Without further ado, here’s the advice I wish I had as a student. It boils down to four things: learning, networking, getting (relevant) experience, and volunteering. Most of this is probably pretty generic to any field! But, regardless, here’s what I think.

1. Learn

You may already be studying something extremely relevant to tackling climate change, like geography or environmental science. But, like me, you may be studying a relatively unrelated field, like economics, politics or law, where papers about the environment form a minority of your courseload. Regardless, there’s a lot you can do to increase your knowledge of climate.

I’d recommend reading books, both new releases and classics. For me, books that made a big difference early on in my climate journey were things like This Changes Everything by Naomi Klein, Hope in the Dark by Rebecca Solnit, and Fossil Capital by Andreas Malm. More recent releases that have taught me a lot include books like A Planet to Win by Daniel Aldana Cohen et al, The Climate Diplomat by Peter Betts and Overshoot and The Long Heat by Andreas Malm and Wim Carton.

For staying up to date with current affairs, I’d recommend newsletters. Carbon Brief do an indispensable daily/weekly newsletter. If climate diplomacy is your bag then look no further than the Climate Diplomacy Briefing. But there are others. Podcasts can also be good.

Finally, there are webinars. A lot of think tanks and NGOs regularly hold online events where they discuss their latest research or campaigns. Keep an eye out for these by trawling the websites of organisations that you like the look of. This is a good way to take the temperature of where the cutting edge is.

2. Network

I know. Networking is so painful (especially for an introvert like me). But it has to be done.

LinkedIn is one thing (my main piece of advice for LinkedIn is to always, always send a specific and tailored message with your connection request). However, there’s no substitute for in-person networking.

If you’re in London or within a reasonable distance, there’s no excuse not to be turning up to events. Every month there are climate events put on by various universities, think tanks and NGOs. If you don’t know where to start, search on Eventbrite. Each June there is London Climate Action Week, where hundreds of events take place. There are monthly London climate drinks. Heaps of opportunities to meet people in the sector that you want to work in. The same advice goes if you’re in any big city.

Networking at an event isn’t hard. The small talk script basically writes itself: “What made you come to this event?” “What did you think of speaker X?” “What’s your biggest takeaway?”

3. Get (relevant) work experience

When it comes time to apply for your first graduate job, having (relevant) work experience will set you above the rest.

Undergraduates have long summers, which are perfect for working. Meanwhile, a PhD is 3-4 years long and most universities will let you work alongside your studies to some extent (Cambridge lets you work for up to 10 hours a week). Taking an internship one day a week for a few months is a good way to broaden your horizons while not distracting too much from your thesis.

How to find internships in the climate space? There’s no easy answer. While there are definitely some advertised (to find these I recommend trawling the websites of organisations that you admire), I personally had no luck with applying for these. Instead, I got two of my internships via completely cold emails. My advice for cold emails is to be as specific as possible about why you admire the organisation’s work, what you could bring to the organisation, and always attach your CV.

What to do if you can’t find an internship in climate? Don’t panic. Almost any internship/work experience will give you transferrable skills, which you can leverage in job applications later on. For example, does this internship give you experience in written and oral communication? Does it teach you data analysis, project management, or research? If so, great. All of these skills are indispensable in my current job.

The other good thing about internships is that they’ll also teach you what you like or don’t like about a given workplace or sector. You may find once you do an internship, for instance, that you don’t actually like or want to work in climate, or in a given type of organisation! That’s extremely important information to know.

4. Volunteer

It’s not always possible to get paid work experience in the climate field. Meanwhile, there’s lots of relevant experience to be had in the voluntary sector. There are a myriad of climate organisations, ranging from student societies to NGOs, who rely on volunteers to get things done. There are all sorts of different roles available and it’s a way to gain relevant experience and relevant knowledge, as well as demonstrate dedication.

Personally, during my PhD I got involved in my college’s divestment campaign. Engaging with a big, old institution to try and get it to change its ways when it came to investment in fossil fuels taught me a lot of skills that I now use in my job. I think it also counted as a plus in my job application as it showed commitment to the cause.

Of course, it’s not always possible to volunteer. Maybe you have caring responsibilities or work many hours a week already. If that’s the case, don’t panic. Volunteering definitely isn’t necessary to find a job later on. But if you can do it, I recommend it.

Good luck!

I hope this post was helpful. My only request of you is that, please, if you do end up getting a job in the climate space, pay it forward and give your honest advice to those who will inevitably ask you the same questions that I get asked all the time.

My decade of collective ambition: a five-year reflection

Around the turn of the decade, I made a lengthy facebook post, which I’m not linking to, ha. In it, I reflected on my previous decade, and declared the 2020s to be my decade of collective, not individual ambition. I eschewed individualised achievement for its own sake, and embraced working in service of greater, collective goals.

Slightly more than half a decade on, how has that pledge worked out?

The 2010s: my decade of individual ambition

Wind back to 2010. I was eighteen, in my third year of uni, in my second year of working in CSO. My first year of flatting (shout out to the PRC), and the year of the first earthquake. I remember being especially thrilled about getting into NYO for the first time that year.

On the outside, I might have appeared to be a fairly typical uni student. But inside, I had big goals. Graduate with first class honours, get a good grad job, do a Masters’ or even a PhD overseas.

I was vaguely aware of societal issues, but wasn’t politically engaged and the climate crisis hadn’t fully dawned on me yet. In comparison to some people I know, I was super behind! I was largely fixed on personal development. I call it ‘magpie mode’: the habit of collecting shiny things, racking up achievements — sometimes simply because they sparkle.

From individual to collective ambition

I pretty much achieved all my goals. At the end of my PhD, in late 2019, my ambitious part felt very satisfied. A doctorate from Cambridge was the most prestigious bauble my inner magpie could have dreamed of collecting. (Maybe I didn’t have an especially imaginative inner magpie!)

But something had changed in me. I simply no longer cared. Maybe it was the jading effect of the PhD years, but I no longer cared about prestigious things. Mapgie brain: quiet.

At the same time, during the course of the previous decade I’d become involved in climate work, first as a volunteer. Gradually, or all at once, it took over my life.

I had also become a lot more interested in social issues, like inequality, poverty, racism, and colonialism.

My North Star gradually reoriented itself from “achievement” to something like “transforming the world to keep global warming below dangerous levels in a way that puts people, communities, and ecosystems above profit”.

This, evidently, isn’t a personal ambition. That is, it’s not something I can possibly achieve on my own. Rather, it’s an ambition that is necessarily collective in nature.

Hence: making the 2020s my decade of collective, not personal ambition.

I’m not quite sure what bird fits this bill. Maybe the kea, the famous troublemaker. Or maybe the acorn woodpecker, which was the top hit when I googled “socialist bird”. Acorn woodpeckers share wealth (i.e. massive caches of acorns) and raise their kids together. In any case, magpie brain was long gone.

What did I do next?

My first move post-collective-ambition-realisation was to take a postdoc job at the Centre for the Study of Existential Risk. There, I figured, I could learn a lot more about the big risks facing the planet (in addition to climate), and possibly make a difference. This was perhaps the best first move I could have made. CSER was a fascinating environment, allowing me to pursue my interests pretty freely while exposing me to a lot of socio-ecological problems I hadn’t previously considered.

While at CSER, I realised I needed something more applied — something outside of academia, which in many ways is a hyper-individualised setting. So after two years and a bit of stress I cast around for policy jobs, and landed a good one at IISD. I’ve now been there for just over three years, working on policy in service of a just and equitable managed phase out of oil and gas production and an end to public finance for fossil fuels. Although “I do not dream of labour”, it’s a great job.

Outside of work I’ve been involved in various activities in service of climate activism, trade unions & a free Palestine.

So what have I learned?

Collective ambitions are easy to state but harder to action. It’s easy to say “I want to fight climate change” or “I want to create a more just world” but harder to figure out how one’s specific skillset and interests can fit into that broad picture (while paying one’s rent!). I’ve been lucky to have been able to slot in somewhere useful after only a couple of years of wondering what I was doing. I think of the work of artists like Tolmeia Gregory in helping people realise that there are many, many different, necessary roles within movements.
Comrades are necessary (and plentiful). The whole point of a collective ambition is that it is shared. I’ve been lucky to meet many people who share the same ambitions as me. It actually turns out that a lot of people want to make the world a better place. It’s not the lonely endeavour that some might think it might be.
Kea brain needs joy, too. It can be easy to become quite serious and think that everything needs to be about the struggle. But that just becomes another kind of punishing optimisation. Keas are such joyful, mischievous birds really. Feeding that aspect is essential.
Rest can be resistance. On a similar note, rest is necessary to recharge. While I don’t think 24/7 Netflix necessarily equals resistance, switching off can both enable more productive and sustainable efforts, and in itself represent resistance to the chronic grinding of this society.
The collective ambition fades to become part of the background. In my day-to-day life I have day-to-day concerns. Once the big pieces are in place it’s just a matter of execution. It’s only once a year or so I seriously reflect on what I’m doing in life and how it fits in with my North Star. Maybe I should reflect more often? idk.
External validation/individual achievement is still nice, and needed every so often. I won a prize for my book earlier this year and it pretty much made my year. (The magpie awakened…!) Indeed, the very fact that the book got published by a major university press was quite validating. These things still fit within the individual achievement paradigm. Honestly, though, I think it’s no bad thing to occasionally achieve something on an individual basis, and/or receive external validation for things one has done well.
It’s not, like, this big noble thing. Working towards a collective ambition is fun and rewarding. It’s not a sacrifice nor a reflection of a particularly noble character. I think society should normalise it a lot more than at present.

Reprogramming the magpie brain

We are socialised to idealise individual ambition and achievement. At least in Aotearoa New Zealand, we are raised on stories of sports stars like the All Blacks, talented musicians like Dame Kiri Te Kanawa or Lorde, explorers like Sir Edmund Hillary or business leaders/entrepreneurs like Sir Michael Hill.

What if we were raised on stories of collective change, of troublemaking, of movements, of comradeship? What if we raised our kids on these stories?

I’m not suggesting that New Zealanders lack such stories — I’m thinking here of the nuclear free movement, or the Springbok tour protests, or more recently the Ihumātao protests.

Maybe it was just that those stories weren’t told in my family’s house. But maybe the issue transcends just my family. I think the latter is more likely.

What I will do differently in the next five years

Honestly, not much. Kea mode is certainly here to stay. I don’t see myself returning to the individual ambition mindset any time soon.

Following the above lessons, I’d like to find more joy in life. Spend more time with comrades. Rest when needed. Not search for external validation, but not shy away from it.

I would like to stop stressing out about whether I am making the biggest difference that I possibly could be. The kea doesn’t care about whether it’s making the most trouble it can. It just revels in the process. This is possibly easier said than done though!

What’s your collective ambition?

In conclusion, enjoy this picture of a kea I took during an early-2020s day hike (ahem, tramp) up Avalanche Peak. See the colour under those wings? (Yes, writing this whole post was a ploy just to post this one photo.)

What collective ambition are you working towards or contributing to? Let me know.

How I won the Whewell Scholarship in International Law

In 2016, at the end of my LLM year in Cambridge, I won a thing called the Whewell Scholarship in International Law. Nearly a decade on, I still, somehow, get the occasional email from people asking me how I did it. I am sick of receiving these emails. Hence I am writing this blog post. (I will no longer reply to such emails.)

This post will first outline what the scholarship is (and what it is not), before going through what I did in preparation for the exam. If you’re not a current Cambridge LLM student, definitely skip this post.

What the Whewell Scholarship Is (And What It Is Not)

Here’s what the Cambridge website has to say about the Whewell Scholarship:

“LLM candidates in international law are eligible to be considered for the award of the Whewell Scholarship in International Law. The award will be made on the basis of a candidate’s performance in any three of the papers designated as specialist papers in international law, together with a candidate’s performance in an additional examination for Paper 40 (the Whewell Paper) on “Problems and Disputed Points in International Law”. This additional examination does not form part of the LLM curriculum, nor does the mark awarded in this paper contribute towards the overall classification of a candidate’s LLM degree. Instead it is intended exclusively for candidates for the Whewell Scholarship. The examination on “Problems and Disputed Points in International Law” will be held at the same time as the other LLM examinations.“

In other words, to win the scholarship you have to come top, or do very well, in three of your four international law papers, as well as top the Whewell exam (“Problems and Disputed Points in International Law”).

The scholarship entitles you to a place at Trinity College for your PhD, plus a small (and I should stress: small) monetary award. It is not a full PhD scholarship. It may, however, assist you in gaining further funding (I got the Commonwealth Scholarship off the back of my Whewell win).

It’s also worth noting that the Whewell has a certain reputation. Because some very eminent jurists have won the Whewell in the past, certain people (Cambridge or Cambridge-educated international lawyers) will think about you / treat you differently if you win. I definitely noticed it. This is true among only a very small and select group of people though, and will obviously benefit you more if you plan to have a career in (academic) international law.

Finally, you get to have your name painted on a nice little board somewhere in the Lauterpacht Centre 🙂

How I Prepared for the Whewell Exam

It’s difficult or impossible to know what will come up in the Whewell exam; in my opinion in compares only to the All Souls specialist exams for its broad range. My strategy was threefold: revise for my other exams very well; practice past papers; and read widely.

I revised for my other exams very well indeed. I chose not to pick and choose topics, but instead revised everything. (Throughout the year, I read the entire reading lists, too.) This added significantly to my workload, but in my opinion proved worth it. I also revised topics in international environmental law, in which I did not sit the exam (I wrote a dissertation in that paper instead). This latter strategy was very worthwhile as the first question on the paper related to the Paris Agreement, which had then recently been adopted.
I found past papers and practiced writing essay skeletons and full essays. This was the bulk of my preparation for the exam. It helped to get a sense of the kinds of questions that could be asked, and helped me to practice thinking broadly or structurally about the issues. It also helped my overall preparation for all my other exams; in my opinion, it’s impossible to practice essay writing too much.
I read widely. I got a sense from reading past papers that many questions touched on then-current topics or disputes in international law. Hence I read current and recent issues of leading journals like EJIL, AJIL and ICLQ. I read some classic/famous books in international law. I got out my old textbook from undergrad and made sure I was fully across the entire spectrum of general issues in public international law.
This wasn’t part of my deliberate strategy, but that whole year I kept on reading broadly outside of law, as I always do, and I think this proved useful. I remember citing Peter Singer in one of my exam answers, for example, to make some point or other.

That’s all. Will doing these things guarantee a win? No. Will they help? Definitely. Will they make you a better international lawyer? I think so.

Remember, if you don’t win – which is the most likely outcome – there are other ways to do a PhD, and other ways to pursue success in international law.

Good luck!