Where do I get my research ideas from?

As a materials scientist, I’ve come to realize that research ideas rarely arrive fully formed or in isolation. They emerge gradually — from curiosity, from noticing patterns, from conversations, and often from a single, persistent question that refuses to go away. Materials science, by its very nature, invites this kind of exploration. It’s a field that connects the smallest scales of atomic structure to the largest scales of human technology. Because it touches chemistry, physics, engineering, and even biology, there are countless entry points for inspiration.

For me, the first spark of an idea often comes from recognizing a gap. And I have encountered many gaps over the years.

Image you are sitting in a lecture during a large scientific conference. A colleague presents their research and at one point your mind goes like: interesting, but why didn't they ... and then you are waiting to see the rest of the presentation curious if the one thing you are hoping for will be shown. But no, they don't show it.
This happened to me more than once. But yes, one time I was listening to a scientific talk and my colleague showed an interesting numerical study. Halfway into the talk I spotted a gap on one of the slides - something that seemed missing. And I was on the verge of jumping up and interrupting him with the question if they also did what was in my mind the next logical step. But it tured out that not only did they not present anything like what was on my mind. It hadn't even occured to them as I found out afterwards during an intense discussion. So I went home after the conference and quickly set up a new simulation, running it, checking the results in light of existing experiments and went ahead with a publication.
But there were other instances. For example, I was at what is called poster session. Often during science conferences time slots are organized where part of the participants present their research not in form of lectures, but on posters. These are usually A0 in size - so 16 times the size of a common A4 writing page from a college block and therewith lots of space to fill with your research. Personally, I like these poster sessions and not just because I have won a couple of best poster prizes! During such sessions you have the chance to present your research in more depth to interested researchers than during a 15-minute lecture. And it gives you the chace to go around, talk to people and sometimes spot gaps in their research. I still remember this one time that I saw an interesting poster on a numerical study but they used a two-dimensional simulation. When I asked about making it more realistic by using a 3D simulation, I got the argument that a three-dimensional simulation would take too much time and they are not planning it. Can you guess what I did? Yes, I went home and extended their idea to three dimensions making it comparable to experiments!

While these were ideas that came easily to me, there are gaps that are harder to grasp such as gaps between what materials do and what we wish they could do. Sometimes that gap is practical: a solar cell that’s efficient but too costly to produce, or a metal alloy that’s strong but prone to corrosion, or you have the perfect material for a certain high-temperature application, but the microstructure of the material changes over time so quickly that your preferred material's properties get lost. Other times it’s conceptual: perhaps our theoretical understanding can’t yet explain a new behavior we observe in the lab, or you encounter a gap between a computer model and an analytical framework. In all cases, curiosity drives the next step — asking, what would it take to bridge this gap? That question can lead to designing a new composite, exploring an unconventional synthesis route, or even developing a new way to measure a property or the structure of a material that we simply can’t yet observe directly.

Taking about bridging gaps is actually something very important in materials science. We have experiments, where it is not only hard to control every little parameter, but more importantly it is hard getting large real three-dimensional data with high enough temporal resolution to actually analyze how temperature or stress influence the microstructure of polycrystalline materials. In contrast, researchers have developed analytical theories to describe experimental results for decades. Some theories describe experimental measurements very well - others don't. Hence, I see computer simulations as the perfect tool to bridge gaps between experiments and theories. Simulations can help inspire further experiments or improvements in the analytic theories. Of course, every simulation needs a validation - else you can get almost everything out of a simulation. But done carefully, they can give you ideas.

Nevertheless, many of my ideas also grow out of what you could call “productive surprises”. Both, experiments as well as computer simulations don’t always go according to plan. I know this is not just the case in materials research. Also colleagues from chemistry, biology of neuroscience have told me about similar experiences. While you may be irritated or even frustrated when an experiment doesn't turn out the way you want it to, when you think about it that’s often where the magic happens.
A sample might crystallize differently than expected, or a coating may show an unusual behavior under stress. Such - may I say - anomalies are not failures but opportunities. They are indeed clues that something interesting is happening at the atomic or molecular or microstructural level. And yes, this has happened historically more than once! The discovery of Teflon, for instance, came more or less by chance. The chemist Roy Plunkett made the discovery when was experimenting with tetrafluoroethylene and found that it had polymerized into a white, waxy solid when he examined a frozen, compressed sample. This accidental discovery was the beginning of a world-famous material. Ot the discovery of Graphene began when researchers simply peeled layers of graphite with duct tape - nothing special and mostly out of curiosity.

I try to keep that same openness in my own work; treating each surprises as potential steps into something new.

Collaboration is another essential ingredient in developing ideas. Don't get me wrong, you can get great ideas sitting all by yourself in a lab or in an office. But as I said before: Materials science has ties to chemistry, physics, engineering, and biology. And as - at least - I cannot be an expert on all of these fields, talking to people, exchanging ideas is vital. So I would say: My research thrives on dialogue. Some of my most interesting projects have started not in the lab, but in conversation. Some have started even at conferences over a contradictory poster or during a conference dinner. I still remember very vividly this one time, where I was at a small conference that was closer to a full-week workshop with lots of different formats. A colleague approached me that I had never met and onnly knew by name. Turns our, he had seen my simulations on structural changes as they occur in metals and they reminded him of something that he had seen in the lab in marine shells. So we started talking and months later he offered me a job in his lab, where we basically combined forces from different fields, from different methods and backgrounds.
So, I think a good research idea often forms at the edges - where one discipline meets another and where different ways of thinking intersect. I would even go further and say that, in particular, nature is a very powerful teacher. It is not just the intricate structure of seashells that can be an eye-opener for a materials scientist. Look for example at the structure of bird bones. They are stable and yet light-weight - something that researchers may exactely be looking for. And then there are the honeycombs of bees that are so stable just because of their structure. The whole topic of biomimicry often reminds me that evolution is the ultimate materials engineer. There is indeed sophistication in the structures nature has refined over millions of years.

For me, inspiration comes often from nature, from the world around us.

Finally, I’ve come to appreciate that creativity in science is not so different from creativity in art. Both require imagination, persistence, and a willingness to see something familiar in a new way. It's like finding out that someone you have known for years likes the same cake as you - only you never knew.

A materials scientist may not paint on canvas or compose music, but we sculpt at the atomic level, designing matter itself to achieve desired forms and functions. Some of us even try to form complex structures on the mesoscopic level that is on the crystalline level. Such a process begins not with a finished product in mind, but with an idea - a hunch, an observation, a question. Over time, through testing, failure, and refinement, that idea can take shape into something real: namely a material that makes devices faster, energy cleaner, or structures stronger.

And yes, failure is part of the journey. Even though many researchers don't talk about it so much, there are moments when you find out that an experiment you have planned or even performed doesn't work. Sometimes you may have even put a lot of time and passion into it, just to find out that your idea was wrong or lacking something and you may need to start all over.

In the end, my research ideas come from me remaining open - open to the unexpected, to collaboration, to failure, and to the constant dialogue between what we know and what we still hope to discover. Materials science, to me, is a field defined by possibilities. It challenges us to imagine how matter itself can be engineered to improve our world. Every new idea begins as a small spark of curiosity, and every discovery reminds me why I chose to become a scientist in the first place: To keep asking questions about the materials that build our world, that build our future, and to never lose that sense of wonder at how the smallest structures can shape the biggest changes.

So, I suggest: go looking for gaps and change failures to opportunities.