Science and Innovation in Lithuania: Pushing the research boat out

In September, Lithuanian officials will break a champagne bottle over the hull of the country’s new €10 million marine research vessel and the 40 metre ship will be lowered into the water at Klaipeda on the Baltic Sea. On dry land, the launch will be accompanied by the opening of a marine research lab. Taken together, this represents a key step forward in the country’s effort to build scientific infrastructure it is hoped will in time drive development of a vibrant marine economy.

But for Dainius Pavalkis, Lithuania’s 54-year-old minister for education and science, nothing is moving fast enough. “We are too slow,” he says. This applies both at the national and at the European level. “If we look at the financing of R&D and education, we [are investing] much less money than countries like China, Japan, the US and Switzerland.” Lithuania’s total annual spending on research is less than one per cent of GDP, far below the European Union’s three per cent target.

And it is not just that Lithuania is spending less. The whole process of implementing public research projects is too sluggish, Pavalkis says. The time that elapses between the political green light and the start of a project is one full year, a bureaucratic dawdle which Lithuania cannot afford. Young people are not willing to stay and wait.

Lithuania’s loss of talent is particularly acute. The country’s population has shrunk by 11 per cent since the country joined the European Union in 2004, as young graduates and skilled workers sought better jobs elsewhere in the EU and beyond. A top priority for Pavlakis, himself a former ‘brain drainer’ who spent time as a medical researcher and surgeon in the US and UK, is to entice bright minds to return home.

Doing that means building research excellence and competitive science-driven industries in Lithuania.  Pavalkis is focusing on the development of five Research Valleys, which bring together universities, industry and research centres. Marine Valley, focussed around the research ship and the laboratory in Klaipeda, is one of the five. Others include a valley dedicated to semiconductors, physics, solar batteries and new materials, and one specialising in biotech, health sciences, pharmacology and veterinary science.

In total, Lithuania has poured €375 million into scientific infrastructure and research collaborations over the past seven years, creating a strong base around which the valleys can be built. The exact amount of funding for the next six years is not yet public because the Lithuanian government is waiting to hear from the European Commission whether it can draw down some regional funding.

Building on the foundations

The foundations are in place, Pavalkis says. Now it is up to Lithuanians to build on them.

There are further barriers to be overcome however. One is a lack of entrepreneurial talent and mindset. The public image of business and entrepreneurs is coloured by the negative example of Russian oligarchs, who are viewed as “harmful to society,” says Pavalkis.

In addition to entrepreneurial skills, the country needs a new attitude towards work and competitiveness. Pavalkis, who did stints at St Mark’s Hospital in London and Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in New York in the 1990s, wants to use EU structural funds to attract international researchers to Lithuanian universities, in a bid to accelerate the cultural shift.

Another obstacle to entrepreneurship is Lithuanians’ attitude toward failure. While failure is a rite of passage for many successful entrepreneurs in the US, there is lifelong stigma for anyone who files for bankruptcy in Lithuania. That creates a culture of caution, not risk-taking. “The threat of bankruptcy hangs over people,” Pavalkis says. “We are waiting for the next generation of people who will have an entrepreneurial understanding.”

There are some hopeful green shoots. Lithuania is generating spin-offs in the IT and laser sectors and their young founders are starting to counter the negative image of entrepreneurs.

For Pavalkis, bold policies are needed. When performing surgery, you risk the patient’s life, he says. “In ministerial life you risk your own life – if you take risks – and we are.”

Post-Soviet hangover

There is no doubt that Lithuania has come a long way since the collapse of Communism. “If we compare the situation to 20-25 years ago, when I started as a researcher in surgery and oncology, we are now in the cosmos,” Pavalkis said. Lithuania is aspiring to new heights.

The road has not always been smooth. In common with other Eastern European countries, Lithuania had a post-Soviet hangover with which to contend. Before the tumult and upheaval of the 1990s, Lithuania was a prominent research and development site for the Russian military. Lithuania’s high-tech industry, its innovative edge, was blunted when Russia left. Only a few pockets of scientific knowledge remained, including lasers and semi-conductors.  

At the same time, parochial politics have hampered the design of the country’s innovation strategy - again nothing unique to Lithuania. Governments across Eastern Europe often support traditional industries with close ties to the government, over those that had potential to be competitive in Europe, or at global level. Political decisions often displaced expert decisions.

Against this background, the Research Valley concept was designed to break with the past. Seven years ago, policymakers in Lithuania recognised the benefit of linking industry and research professionals and it channelled €375 million into the formation of the five valleys.

For Pavalkis, they represent future wellsprings of innovation. “In general, I’d like to see more influence of business on universities,” he says. “They can push universities forward.”

The task at hand is to make them work. Researchers based in the valleys will receive state funding – but on a sliding scale. “We need a financing system which will make it uncomfortable [over time] to live on the state budget,” Pavalkis said. Government support will decline from 75 per cent to 25 per cent over a period of time, pressing scientists to develop ties with industry and generate private research contracts.

Turning brain drain back into gain

Lithuania’s efforts to build scientific muscle may already be countering the brain drain. While data from the World Bank shows that the country has lost half a million of its population since 2004 when it joined the EU, it is now declining a slower rate, said Pavalkis. The sharpest decline took place between 2010 and 2011 when the country’s population shrunk by 284,000, a year in which neighboring Estonia’s population did not change at all.

Pavalkis would like to see Lithuanian scientists returning to work in the Research Valleys but also invigorating the spinoff scene. “Today, all new business spin-offs are run by young people,” he said. “We are planning [to use] a lot of money from EU regional funds, especially soft funding, to attract people from outside Lithuania to come here as post-doc students.”

Lithuania’s growing reputation as a partner in the EU’s research funding is helping. Pavalkis expects the country’s scientists to hold their own in Horizon 2020, the EU’s main research programme for next six years. In the EU’s Seventh Framework Programme from 2007 to 2013, Lithuania’s success rate in obtaining research grants was close to the EU average – ranking 14 among (the then), 27 EU member states.

Two Lithuanians have won prestigious European Research Council grants, notes Pavalkis. They are currently based abroad, one in Austria, the other in the UK. The clear hope is that they will bring their knowledge back to Lithuania someday.

Finding a teammate

More cash may soon be available. Pavalkis aims to seek funding from the European Commission’s teaming programme, which encourages research institutions from countries with low research and innovation output, such as Lithuania, to create new centres of excellence or upgrade existing research centres, by partnering with leading institutes in another country. Together, the partner organisations choose a field of mutual interest and contribute 50 per cent of the cost of the initiative, which can be up to €20 million, with the Commission providing matching funds.

Research centres in Lithuania’s other Baltic state neighbours, Latvia and Estonia, might be natural partners. Collaboration between these states is not uncommon, and there are many ministerial meetings where cost-sharing is discussed. “In education, as an example, a country could have two or three pilot projects per year,” said Pavalkis. “We talk about trying to organise something altogether.” 

But there’s a friendly rivalry there too. “Estonians are strong in cyber-security, we are still missing that,” added Pavalkis.