I left a PhD program a few years back (technically graduated, but I don't think of it that way). A year or so before I did, I remember very clearly being out to drinks with my professor and fellow students, and mentioning that I had no intention to continue a career in academia. In fact at the time I was thinking of translation (I've since drifted to web development, but languages and translation are still central to much of what I do).
The response (in Japanese, but I'll translate) was "what a waste" ("mottainai"). What a waste. All that potential I had, and now I was just going to waste it on "work", like everyone else. No doubt my supervisor, who said it with a genuinely disappointed look (echoed with a nod by a fellow student and friend sitting beside me, which only made it worse) meant it in a positive sense, but I never forgave him for it. It stuck with me, somewhere very deep inside me, first as something confusing and distressing, then as a kind of symbol, something emblematic of everything that is wrong with academia.
To anyone who is hesitating: if your only reason for staying in academia is the fear of what will happen if you leave, then it is time to leave.
The response (in Japanese, but I'll translate) was "what a waste" ("mottainai"). What a waste. All that potential I had, and now I was just going to waste it on "work", like everyone else. No doubt my supervisor, who said it with a genuinely disappointed look (echoed with a nod by a fellow student and friend sitting beside me, which only made it worse) meant it in a positive sense, but I never forgave him for it. It stuck with me, somewhere very deep inside me, first as something confusing and distressing, then as a kind of symbol, something emblematic of everything that is wrong with academia.
To anyone who is hesitating: if your only reason for staying in academia is the fear of what will happen if you leave, then it is time to leave.