I sat across from my supervisors at the University of New England, discussing what I hoped would become my first peer-reviewed publication. The paper argued that understanding consciousness—both human and potentially artificial—is fundamentally a matter of paradigm lenses. I challenged assumptions about human superiority in intelligence and consciousness by drawing on Thomas Kuhn’s theory of scientific revolutions and Werner Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle. I’d worked the argument through multiple drafts, incorporating feedback regarding its theoretical rigor and engagement with the philosophy of mind literature. The conversation was productive. They offered good suggestions for strengthening my treatment of panpsychism and clarifying my intervention in consciousness studies. Then I said it: “I think this might be ready to submit for publication.” Their eyes conveyed a different message than their courteous words. There was a brief pause. The diplomatic “well, it’s coming along.” The subtle shift to discussing what the next draft might accomplish. The message was clear: not yet. Maybe after more revisions. Maybe after finishing the dissertation. Maybe when you’re more established. After incorporating some of their …