"I discovered mathematical formulas for wavelets, which can be used to compress images without any loss of quality"

What first drew you to mathematics and physics?
“For as long as I can remember, I’ve been fascinated by how things work. How can you, for example, deduce from starlight which elements are present? Those were the kinds of things I wanted to understand, even as a child. Originally, I thought about studying engineering – my father was an engineer – but in my final year of secondary school, I realised that understanding how things worked mattered more to me than building them. That led me to physics. My mother wasn’t pleased with that choice. She saw engineering as a real profession, whereas to her, physics – within the sciences – seemed closer to something artistic. She thought I’d never be able to make a living out of it. But I stuck to my decision. Ironically, in the end, I wasn’t just concerned with how things work – I also developed mathematical techniques to help us understand problems more deeply. And throughout my career, I’ve collaborated extensively with engineers.”

"Science may often be about understanding nature or building technology, but ultimately science is a human activity that stems from human curiosity"

“That initial drive is still with me. I love hearing from people who have really got to the bottom of a problem, who can explain exactly how things fit together. And if something is still unknown, I like to help unravel it. I remain curious – though I’m well aware that I have more questions than I’ll ever be able to answer in one lifetime.”  

Who or what gave your career its decisive turn?
“Other people. Science may be about understanding nature or building technology, but at its heart, it’s a human activity, born of human curiosity. The satisfaction I’ve found in science hasn’t come only from the content I worked on, but also from the community I’ve worked with – colleagues with whom I truly connected and who shared my passion. Collaboration has also changed enormously over time. When I started, I exchanged letters with colleagues abroad. Today, we can share information online instantly, bouncing ideas back and forth. It’s astonishing how much more can be achieved that way.”

What was the hardest period in your career, and how did you overcome it?
“At the beginning of my career, it seemed for a while that I might have to give up science altogether. It was extremely difficult to secure a permanent research position. And I understood why: society cannot afford to pay a large number of people to do long-term research without clear outcomes. At one point, I genuinely thought I was entering my final six months – both at VUB and in science. With no expectations for the future, I threw myself into organising The Spiral of Life exhibition in 1984, marking the 25th anniversary of the first Dutch-language science courses at what later became VUB’s Faculty of Science. Through that work, many people at VUB got to know me. They told the rector at the time: ‘Have you seen that young woman? Have you seen how much energy she has?’ Thanks to that, I eventually secured an FWO appointment. It was also during that period that I realised I loved coming up with ideas, being creative – especially together with others. In the end, I didn’t have to leave research, but I discovered that I could have found that same fulfilment elsewhere, as long as I could lead a creative life.” 

Where do you see your field heading? What are the main challenges?
“One of the big challenges is to better understand why AI often works so well. If we can really grasp that, we could use AI in much more targeted ways, and with far less energy consumption. But that’s a task for younger generations. I’m curious about the answers, but I won’t be taking on that challenge myself – it’s research on a timescale longer than the years I still expect to have. I don’t mind leaving that to others. I’m at peace with the fact that our time is finite, and that most of mine lies behind me. I’m not done talking, but I no longer need to be at the centre of the action. What matters now are the people around me: spending time with them, taking a few more trips with my husband, and enjoying my children and grandchildren. I do, however, worry about the future of science in the US. My university is shrinking, as are all universities. In mathematics, there may soon be no individual research grants at all – only for certain centres, and even those will be fewer. The whole landscape is shifting. Normally, I’m an optimist, but this could, in the long run, erode the US’s leading position in science. For myself, I regret what’s happening, but the work I’ve done is done – it won’t disappear. I still feel a deep loyalty to the institutions I’ve worked for, and I remain attached to Duke University. With so much being cut, I want to contribute in the field of outreach – keeping scientific networks alive that I consider important, but which the current US administration no longer wishes to support.”

What advice would you give to young researchers?
“To some of my students, I’ve said it quite literally: ‘Don’t try to build a career here anymore. Go to Europe or China.’ At the moment, there are more opportunities there, where young researchers can more easily find a job or a fellowship. To European institutions, I give a different message: don’t focus on attracting the big names from the US – they’ve already had their impact. Instead, prioritise the younger generation. Encourage professors to send their best students, and help those students build careers. That will pay off in the long term. Even if US science policy were to reverse course, some of those researchers would stay in Europe out of loyalty to their employers, or simply because they’ve built their lives there. Europe really must step up its efforts in this regard – because I think China is already doing so, far more strategically.”