How I Developed My Research Niche: The Architect, the Archaeologist, and the Art of Intelligent Experimentation

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Choosing a research niche can feel like a daunting task, especially at the beginning of your career. Many early-stage researchers think they should have a clear focus from day one. But the truth is, finding your niche is a process—one that evolves as you develop your skills and explore new ideas. I like to think of it through two contrasting mindsets: the Architect and the Archaeologist.

The Architect

The architect is deliberate. They design a clear, meticulous blueprint before they even start a research project. They know the specific research questions they want to answer, the methods they’ll use, and what they expect to find. This model works well for seasoned researchers who already have a deep understanding of their field. They’ve refined their research process over the years and have the confidence to plan every step with precision. In short, the architect knows exactly what they’re building before the first brick is laid.

The Archaeologist

The archaeologist, on the other hand, embraces discovery. Rather than starting with a concrete plan, they dig into the unknown. They sift through personal experiences, emerging literature, and evolving questions to find their path. Insights and clarity come with time, and the niche they carve out is often shaped by what they uncover along the way. For the archaeologist, research is more about exploration than execution. Their path isn’t straight—it’s winding, filled with unexpected turns that lead to new discoveries.

My Own Path: Starting as an Archaeologist

When I began my career, I leaned heavily into the archaeologist approach. I knew I wanted to pursue rheumatology, but I didn’t have the resources or the mentorship at the time to start with a dedicated rheumatology research project. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t have the knowledge or the research skills yet. So rather than limiting myself, I cast a wide net. I got involved in any research project that piqued my interest, whether or not it had anything to do with rheumatology.

I learned how to ask the right research questions, how to design a study, how to collect and analyze data, and how to write and submit papers. And I did this by working on a variety of projects. After about a year, I felt comfortable enough to start my own rheumatology project. But I wasn’t done learning. I continued working on side projects to refine my skills.

Looking back, this approach—being open to a variety of opportunities—gave me a solid foundation. It helped me avoid the trap of diving into a narrow niche too early, only to feel stuck or ill-prepared. The time I spent exploring made me a better researcher in the long run.

Do You Go the Architect or the Archaeologist Way?

The architect approach works well for people who already know their field inside and out. My research mentor is a perfect example. She’s spent a decade studying an inflammatory arthritis called, psoriatic arthritis. With her level of expertise, she can confidently plan her research projects from start to finish. And just focus on projects that fit her vision. But for most beginners, trying to be the architect too soon can be limiting.

When you’re just starting out, adopting the archaeologist mindset can be far more beneficial. By allowing yourself the freedom to experiment and explore, you’ll develop the skills you need while also discovering what genuinely interests you. Your niche will emerge over time—not because you forced it, but because it grew naturally from your experiences. And trust me, the process becomes much more enjoyable when you’re not locked into a specific box from the start.

Remember, you don’t need to have a perfect blueprint before you begin. Start small. Stay curious. Allow the process to guide you.

Intelligent Experimentation: The Middle Path

As your career progresses, you’ll naturally shift more toward the architect’s approach—committing to a clear research focus. But even then, there’s room for what I call intelligent experimentation.

We often build a box around ourselves once we’ve carved out a niche. And we love our boxes. These neat labels—“I’m a rheumatologist,” “I’m an epidemiologist”—help us stay focused. But they can also limit us. What begins as a comfortable identity can eventually feel like a cage, stifling our curiosity and potential.

In my own career, I started with epidemiological research. Then, by chance, I found myself drawn into machine learning and AI. It began when I joined a pharmacogenomics class to complete my remaining credits for a Master’s degree. The only reason for choosing this class over others was that my wife was also taking this class at the time. Most of it went over my head, but one session on machine learning sparked something in me. Even though I had already fulfilled my credit requirements, I enrolled in the lecturer’s subsequent AI course simply out of curiosity. That decision opened a whole new dimension to my research.

Later, when I switched institutions, I came across an opportunity to work with an anonymized electronic health records dataset linked to a biobank. Again, my curiosity was piqued. I began exploring bioinformatics and human genetics, which added new depth t my work. I could have ignored these interests, thinking they didn’t fit neatly into my “box,” but following them enriched my core research.

That’s the power of intelligent experimentation. It allows you to explore areas beyond your primary niche, adding creativity and depth to your work without abandoning your focus. I’m not suggesting you chase every shiny object that comes along, but don’t let the box that you created for yourself confine you. By giving curiosity the space it needs, you allow yourself to grow while remaining grounded in your expertise.

Why Niche Matters

Committing to a niche—eventually is important while giving some space for intelligent experimentation. Think of it this way: if you were starting a small store in a busy city, would you try to compete with Amazon by selling everything under the sun? Or would you focus on a few highly specialized products that serve a particular group of customers? The same is true for research. Trying to do everything at once can dilute your impact. Instead, narrowing your focus allows you to build expertise and make meaningful contributions to your field.

At some point, you will need to commit to a research niche. This is how you build a career that’s both impactful and personally fulfilling. But don’t rush it. Let your niche emerge naturally, through intelligent experimentation and your evolving interests. Over time, you’ll find the sweet spot—a focus that resonates with both you and your audience.

Ready to explore and define your research niche? If you’re just starting out, I’d suggest taking the archaeologist approach—explore broadly and learn the ropes of research through experimentation. If you’re further along in your career, it may be time to start narrowing your focus and carving out your niche. But no matter where you are, don’t forget to follow your curiosity. You never know what new dimensions intelligent experimentation can add to your research and the impact it can have on your career.

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