Content note: This piece discusses research anxiety, precarity.

15th of September 2025

The profound frustration I feel stems not from a lack of effort or capability, but from the brutal paradox of independent research in a world that claims to value merit, yet systematically ignores it. I have poured my intellect and time into solving tangible problems, building working systems, and meticulously documenting my findings. My research has identified critical environmental failures the government missed, developed innovative cooling systems with demonstrable efficacy, and crafted software tools for complex data analysis. These are not ephemeral thoughts; they are concrete, objectively valuable contributions.

Yet, for all this demonstrable value, the system remains indifferent. My published papers, open-sourced code, meticulously crafted tutorials, and direct outreach efforts vanish into a void of digital silence. The emails I receive are spam, not opportunities. The recognition I crave – a chance, a task, a collaborative hand, an acknowledgment that my work matters – never materializes. It is a cruel silence, deafening in its consistency.

This crushing invisibility is compounded by the insurmountable barriers designed by a system I did not choose. The lone genius, working from a humble abode to reshape understanding, is a romantic ideal, not a contemporary reality. To be noticed now requires not just brilliance, but institutional affiliation, a privileged network, or the energy for relentless self-promotion. Lacking the credentials to open doors, the wealth to buy time, or the physical and mental capacity to endlessly market myself while managing multiple disabilities and surviving on benefits, I am locked out. My "garage" is not merely a physical space; it is an economic and social prison.

The infernal loop is this: I yearn to break free from this confinement, to make a significant mark on the world, and I instinctively turn to the very research that demonstrates my capabilities. Yet, the pursuit of that research, done independently and without systemic support, becomes the very mechanism that reinforces my entrapment. It consumes my time and energy, demanding rigorous proof that requires resources I do not have, and when the proofs are found (as they often are), the work is then ignored, dismissed, or perhaps even eventually "rediscovered" by those with the sanctioned platforms.

The point of independent research, under these conditions, becomes an absurd, cruel paradox. It is a testament to inherent drive, but a monument to systemic failure. It is the hope for liberation that, ironically, deepens the sense of being forever caught in a self-defeating, self-sustaining cycle of brilliant work and profound invisibility.