»I wanted to know what happens beneath the surface.«
Maren Voß
Prof. Voß, why the ocean?
I was fascinated by it early on, especially thanks to vacations on the North Sea as a child. I grew up in Schleswig-Holstein – so I’m a “Northern Light” – and I can especially remember taking walks along Kieler Förde, where the aquarium is – that was a very special place to me. Back then, the institute was right at the peer, together with the research ships. I must have been a teenager at the time and I totally wanted to ride along someday.
What was so appealing to you?
When you’re near the water or on a beach, you only see a little bit, usually just the surface; everything going on below it remains hidden. To me, it was intuitively clear that you’d need to go in deeper if you wanted to understand it.
Were you looking for adventure?
Absolutely. And research ships always mean adventure. You need to be open for the other people on board, you get to know new people and see how they set up their labs. Then the day-to-day work on board sets in and you see some people rarely, others constantly. There can be phases when you get on each other’s nerves, but after a while you find your rhythm. Groups are formed, there are table-tennis tournaments. I was never scared, not even when I was on an expedition and we got caught in a November storm in the North Atlantic. When we got stuck for days without making any headway, I found it exciting. We had to give up and turn around, but we got to see the Northern Lights – those are experiences that you don’t forget.
Your first expedition was in 1988. What was it like?
It was at the beginning of my dissertation. The Meteor, our research ship, was brand new back then. We were underway in the North Atlantic. I was excited about everything that happened on deck. I didn’t know anything about the different winds, what drove them, or what depths they reached down to. When a piece of seafloor suddenly comes up at a depth of 4,000 meters – it’s fascinating.
How do you share these experiences?
I offered student internships at sea for nearly 20 years. We sailed throughout the Baltic and in the waters of various Baltic Sea states, visited biological research stations, and met with other researchers and students. It was always important to me to convey a realistic sense of the connections involved, how all marine organisms are influenced by the flow of elements and nutrients, how to collect water and sediment samples, and how to combine different findings into a coherent whole.
And when was your latest cruise?
Back during the COVID years. Back then, there were many people who didn’t want to go – understandably – but in March 2021 we sailed from the Canary Islands to the Amazon Delta to conduct research there. After that, we crossed the Atlantic, all the way back to Emden because of the on-board quarantine. It was a particularly long, unique trip.
Has how you see the ocean changed over the years?
Sure it has. But when I stand on deck and look out at the water, the old enthusiasm, the old love for it, is still there. No matter whether it’s a long swell moving through the water or the sun sparkling off its surface – the images are simply beautiful.
How would you explain your job to someone with no scientific background?
I usually tell them about the overfertilization of the Baltic. Nutrients, especially nitrogen, find their way to the sea and leave their mark. My team and I developed a method for determining where these nutrients come from and what the effects are of the hypoxia produced when there are too many in the water, causing too many plankton to grow. We discovered that the nutrients mostly come from overfertilized cropland. This can create veritable dead zones, with virtually no life in them. It’s frightening – and not just for the Baltic, but for coastal waters around the globe.
What continues to fascinate you about your research topic?
The topic came up during my dissertation. Back then there was a study in the journal Nature, in which nitrogen samples were for the first time classified by their isotopes, that is, by their elementary composition. My working group decided to tackle the subject. Methods were still being developed and I traveled to the US for half a year to learn to use them. Back then, it was all much more complicated: Samples were in sealed in quartz tubes and charred; then the gases were manually removed. Collecting 50 samples was a real challenge. Today you can do it all with a single machine.
Do women working in marine research face resistance or challenges?
I definitely encountered some skepticism about whether a woman could take being out at sea. But I’ve never been thrown off by prejudices; I’ve always concentrated on the actual work and tried to win people over through my performance.
Was there a specific situation in which you as a woman had to stand up for yourself?
Once I had to give a ship’s crew instructions, and one of them simply ignored me and said they wouldn’t take orders from a woman. The captain stepped in to support me, but I also made it very clear that it was unacceptable and that I was the one responsible for the research done on board. After that, things got better. Though situations like that have thankfully become less common, they stick with you.
Were there also more subtle forms of discrimination?
Yes. Sometimes I had the feeling that my findings weren’t taken as seriously as those of my male colleagues. Or that my contributions were ignored in discussions. Sometimes I got the impression that they got all the credit for our shared achievements, even though I’d played a major part in making them. This helped me learn to confidently present my ideas and to demand that my contributions be recognized.
Whenever I felt that someone was trying to claim my idea as their own, I openly addressed it. It’s important not to let yourself be used, and to stand up for your rights.
What are these situations like?
There are the typical moments when they put on a loud, self-confident show. They just keep talking, even when you’ve answered them, or they repeat what you just said and try to sell it as their own idea. It’s a pattern I’ve frequently observed: Men who back each other up, and women who have to struggle to be heard. It’s about status, about marketing your own expertise. I get the feeling that for some men, it’s more important to look like the first one to come up with a given idea than to actually work together on solving a problem.
How have things changed since then?
Many things have gotten better, for sure. But I still see that women often have to work twice as hard. It’s important that we support each other and keep working on good collaboration.
What advice would you give to young women interested in marine research?
It helps to network with other women, compare notes, and support each other. Also, don’t be afraid to highlight your own achievements. Women need to stand up for themselves and for each other – even though it’s sometimes uncomfortable.
Which research question do you most want to find the answer to?
I’d love to look into the future and find out how changes in the nitrogen cycle affect our ecosystems in the long term. How much can they take before they tip? Can we still turn things around and preserve our oceans?
What will the future of marine research look like?
Because of climate change and the growing pressure on our oceans, the scientific challenges have also grown. But I’m confident that with new methods and committed young researchers, there’s much we can achieve. The sea teaches you humility. It shows you how small you are and how little you can actually control – but also, how much is possible when we work together and don’t give up.
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Prof. Maren Voß, born in 1959 in Schleswig-Holstein, is a marine biologist specializing in biogeochemistry at the Leibniz Institute for Baltic Sea Research Warnemünde (IOW) and a Professor at the University of Rostock.
