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A while ago I was having coffee with a colleague and close friend. She stated that she was being considered for a full professor position. Naturally, the conversation turned to salary.
“They are offering around 85,000 euros [around US$99,000]“Sounds reasonable,” she said.
I was curious. “What’s that after tax?”
She paused, stirring her coffee. “I’m not exactly sure. I’ll need to look it up.”
“Okay, but roughly, what percentage of your salary is left over after taxes and Social Security?”
Another pause, longer this time. “I honestly have no idea. I never thought about it.”
Here’s the thing: This is someone who can design multi-year research projects, manage large research budgets and navigate complex grant applications. But her future take home pay? A mystery.
I’ve had many conversations like this over the years. This is more common in academia than any of us want to admit.
Invitation trap
Academia has a problem, and it’s a problem we created ourselves. For a long time, we have framed what we do as a “calling” rather than a career. There is truth to that; Many of us genuinely love our work. But this framing comes with an unspoken rule. Caring too much about money means you’re not truly committed. We have convinced ourselves that good academics must be above such mercenary concerns.
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During my PhD, I remember attending seminars in which distinguished professors constantly emphasized the sacrifice: the long hours, the weekends spent writing, the need to prioritize work above all else. No one ever mentioned negotiating salaries or comparing job offers.
The problem is that this attitude has real consequences. Early-career researchers make life-changing decisions—such as accepting postdoctoral positions, choosing between countries, and deciding whether or not to stay in academia—on the basis of incomplete information. When discussing salary is uncomfortable, people don’t ask the questions they need to ask.
What we don’t know costs us
Take, for example, one postdoctoral researcher who accepted the American position rather than the European position. The American salary looked much higher on paper. What the postdoc didn’t realize until his first pay stub arrived was that the family’s health insurance would cost him $800 a month. Suddenly his “higher” salary became unattractive. Or think of the academic who turned down a lower-paying job in Germany to stay in the United States, not understanding that after taking into account housing costs, child care subsidies and universal health care, he would have actually come out on top.
Those who consider international moves without understanding the tax regimes, social contributions and cost structures in each location are essentially making career decisions with their eyes closed.
Questions we must ask
A few years into my career, I began compiling a list of straightforward questions to ask when considering salaries as a scientist. They fall into two categories: questions you should ask yourself and questions you should ask during interviews. It may seem awkward at first, but these questions have proven effective in gathering the information I need to make career decisions.
Questions I’ve learned to ask myself
What is the typical tax rate at this salary level in this country? What is the actual cost of health care for me and my family? What is the real cost of living in this city? Not just housing, but childcare, transportation, etc. What happens to my pension contributions if I change countries within five years? How does this salary compare to other offers in terms of real purchasing power and not just numbers?
There are many resources available online to give you a quick overview of your pay, allowing you to compare offers. One example is Salary after tax tool. For more specific tax-related questions, be sure to seek advice from a certified tax accountant in the country you intend to move to (and the country you are coming from).