Beyond the 4-Star Club: Why Research Funding Needs a Grassroots Revolution

A few weeks ago, a message landed in my inbox. Sent to an entire academic department, it announced an internal call for research funding. The criteria were clear: the funding would be reserved for projects with the potential to be published in 4* journals. Not “high quality,” not “potentially significant” — explicitly 4*. What’s more, the proposals would need to demonstrate not only the intellectual ambition to reach that level, but also the track record. Teams were expected to include scholars who had already published in such journals, ideally bolstered by external collaborators with similar credentials.

In many ways, this wasn’t surprising. Research funding — especially internal competitive pots — increasingly reflects the metrics-driven logic of external assessments. But as I read and re-read the call, I couldn’t shake a sense of déjà vu. This felt less like an open invitation and more like a pre-filtered list — an opportunity whose criteria had already determined its recipients. It was, I thought, a classic example of higher education mistaking elite outputs for institutional strategy.

And that’s where the problem begins.

The 4* Fetish: When Research Strategy Becomes a Numbers Game

The pursuit of 4* publications has become something of an institutional obsession. These top-tier journal articles, long seen as markers of academic excellence, have increasingly become the currency of strategic planning. In theory, there’s logic to it: if the Research Excellence Framework (REF) rewards quality at the 4* level, then encouraging more 4* submissions should improve institutional performance.

But this logic, seductive as it may be, often leads to distortion. When research strategy is boiled down to a single metric — 4* or bust — the ecosystem suffers. Instead of supporting intellectual risk-taking, we reward safety. Instead of fostering inclusive collaboration, we create elite micro-networks. And instead of developing potential, we invest almost exclusively in those who’ve already arrived.

It’s important to ask: what gets missed in this chase? The interdisciplinary project that doesn’t quite fit the mould. The early career researcher with a compelling idea but no track record. The new methodological approach that requires time to mature. These don’t fit neatly into the 4* formula, and so they’re often left behind.

The irony is that everyone wants excellence. But when excellence is equated only with prior 4* success, it becomes less about potential and more about pedigree.

The Formula 1 Fallacy

There’s an analogy I keep returning to: Formula 1 drivers are not paid vast sums simply to drive fast — they’re paid because they can. The distinction matters. In elite racing, you’re rewarded for a rare combination of skill, training, and track record. But nobody assumes that by only investing in existing F1 drivers, you’ll discover the next generation of champions.

And yet, that’s exactly how much of academia seems to think research should work.

By channelling internal funding solely toward those who’ve already produced 4* publications, institutions create a closed loop. The same small circle of people — those who’ve already proven themselves — are the only ones resourced to prove themselves again. It becomes a self-reinforcing system, mistaking existing output for ongoing potential, and shutting the door on those still building the foundation to reach that level.

This approach might improve short-term metrics, but it does little to build capacity, resilience or diversity in research culture. It sends a subtle but powerful message: unless you’re already part of the elite, don’t bother applying.

Worryingly, this logic is creeping ever closer to the start of academic careers. In some institutions, new researchers — fresh from finishing their PhDs, some not yet through their vivas — are being told they must produce two 3* publications, ideally as first authors, within their two-year probation period. These expectations aren’t framed as developmental goals. They’re framed as minimum requirements to stay.

This doesn’t motivate. It pressures. It doesn’t create loyalty. It fosters defection.

The result is eerily similar to a football transfer window: those who meet the demands often look for better contracts elsewhere, and those who fall short are quietly pushed out. Either way, the system loses. Worse still, it sends signals across the sector that institutions aren’t interested in building researchers — just fielding the best ones they can temporarily afford.

And that’s the pivot point. Because the answer isn’t just more funding or tougher benchmarks. It’s a cultural shift in how we think about research teams — and how we develop them.

Team Sport, Not Gig Economy

We talk a lot about excellence, agility, innovation — but many universities, in practice, resemble a construction site more than a sports team. Individual academics work on isolated “projects,” subcontracting support where needed, and competing for limited resources. Coordination is minimal, long-term strategy is rare, and success often comes down to how well you can navigate the system alone.

But what if we thought more like a football club?

Imagine a university department run like a Premier League academy — not just fielding the first team, but identifying future stars, investing in coaching, and developing talent over time. Success isn’t just about winning today; it’s about building a pipeline, a shared culture, and a sense of collective purpose.

In research terms, that means funding for development, not just delivery. It means recognising the value of mentorship, internal collaboration, and protected time. And it means acknowledging that excellence isn’t a fixed state but a moving target — one that more people can reach if given the right environment.

We don’t need more subcontractors. We need coaching staff.

Leadership and Credibility

None of this is to suggest that senior academics or research leaders don’t care about excellence. Most do. But caring isn’t the same as cultivating. And this is where credibility and leadership begin to matter.

In many departments, the people tasked with driving 4* publication strategies aren’t necessarily those with 4* publications themselves. That isn’t always a problem — effective leadership doesn’t require personal mastery of every skill. A football manager doesn’t have to be the best striker on the pitch. But they do need to understand the game, set a vision, and build the structures that help players thrive.

Unfortunately, in academia, that distinction isn’t always well managed. When those shaping policy don’t model or facilitate the conditions they ask others to meet, trust can erode. The message becomes: “we expect you to achieve what we haven’t, with less support than we had.”

It’s not about exposing gaps in CVs. It’s about creating leadership cultures that value development as much as direction — where success isn’t just demanded but made possible.

If we want a research environment that produces world-class outputs, we need leaders who focus not just on the scoreboard, but on how the team trains, plays, and grows.

What a Better Model Could Look Like

So what might a more effective and inclusive research funding strategy look like?

First, we need to move beyond winner-takes-all funding models. Rather than funnelling resources solely to those who’ve already produced 4* research, institutions could adopt a dual-stream approach: support both the high-performers and the high-potential. The former may deliver short-term gains; the latter secures long-term sustainability.

One way to do this is through tiered funding schemes — where some calls are explicitly developmental. These could support promising early-stage ideas, interdisciplinary experiments, or collaborations between senior and less-experienced researchers. Importantly, success wouldn’t be judged solely on publication record, but on intellectual ambition, feasibility, and plans for capability-building.

Another key element is mentorship with teeth. Too often, mentoring is informal, inconsistent, or merely symbolic. What if mentorship was built into funded projects, with clear expectations and time ring-fenced for it? Pairing researchers with 4* experience alongside those aspiring to reach that level could spread knowledge and confidence across the institution.

And we need to invest in time — not just ideas. Internal schemes that offer teaching relief, writing retreats, and manuscript development workshops can be transformative. Talent needs space to grow; the pipeline won’t fill itself.

This isn’t about being soft on standards. It’s about being smart on strategy. A few elite outputs might impress externally, but a thriving internal culture is what sustains excellence over time.

Choosing a Legacy

The goal isn’t in dispute. Every institution wants to produce excellent research, shape leading debates, and make its mark in the next REF. But the route we take to get there matters just as much as the destination.

If we continue to equate research strategy with research pedigree — backing only those who’ve already “made it” — we risk narrowing the field, draining morale, and missing out on a new generation of scholars who might push boundaries in ways we haven’t yet imagined.

Excellence doesn’t emerge from nowhere. It’s cultivated. And that cultivation requires time, trust, infrastructure and, above all, belief — belief that more people are capable of reaching the highest levels if given the right conditions.

So the real question is: what kind of legacy do we want to leave? A handful of 4* papers, or a culture that produces them consistently — from the ground up?

Institutions have a choice. They can chase outputs. Or they can build environments that make those outputs inevitable.