San Francisco – October 26, 2026
As one of the six global Swissnex locations, Swissnex in San Francisco offers programs for faculty and staff from ZHAW (Zurich University of Applied Sciences) as part of a Staff Mobility Program. These are one to two month residencies to allow the participants time to embed in the local ecosystem, make new professional connections, and provide the opportunity to advance their work in academia.
One of our recent Fellows was Ludovica Onofri, a PhD student at the School of Engineering at ZHAW, whose work focuses on aeronautics and space engineering. She spent a month traveling around California, chronicling her travels meeting peers and how those connections influenced her understanding and perspective on how the U.S. is a land of unique ecosystems, deep networks, and transformative opportunities.
Reach out to Sarah Burckhardt, Academic Engagement Program Manager, if you want to learn more about the program.
Reflections from the Swissnex Mobility Program
When I applied for the Swissnex Mobility Program, I knew I was stepping into an opportunity that would take me far beyond my everyday academic environment. What I did not know was how much the journey would challenge my perspective, expand my network, and make me reflect on the different ways people build their personal and professional paths.
It all started with a direct flight from Zurich to San Francisco, accompanied by a long list of anxieties and intrusive thoughts. Writing them all down would probably use up my entire word limit before I even reached the interesting part.
My four-week journey along the California coast, from San Diego to the fog-covered Bay Area, consisted of: five universities, one domestic flight, several hundred kilometers driven, three tanks of gas (which, by the way, is not cheap in California), burgers, countless Caesar salads and French fries, gallons of Coca-Cola and black coffee “no room (for milk)” and a series of planned and unexpected encounters with people from at least ten different countries. Each was in California for a different reason, carrying a personal and professional story, along with their own ambitions, doubts, and achievements.
During the trip, I began to think of these encounters as a neural network. In the brain, a neural circuit consists of neurons connected by synapses, and multiple circuits can combine to create larger networks. As an aerospace engineer working with artificial neural networks applied to highly flexible airplanes wings, I could hardly imagine a more fitting—or nerdier—analogy.
In this “California network” every neuron represents a person I met. The synapses are the conversations we had, the interests we discovered, the questions we asked, and the ideas we exchanged. Every interaction leaves something behind, and each of us carries a network of our own. Through the connections we build, these individual circuits intertwine, forming the larger network that we might simply call life.
Those encounters made me reflect on what it means to be a researcher. Across countries, universities, and educational systems, research often means freedom: the freedom to examine a problem deeply, both theoretically and experimentally, the freedom to become interested in scientific topics beyond one’s own specialization, and the freedom to apply scientific skills to questions that require time, curiosity, and patience. It means being able to stop and ask why a phenomenon occurs, without always following the rigid timelines imposed by industry.
Yet this freedom takes different forms depending on the academic environment in which researchers build and sustain their careers. In Italy, university research is supported substantially through public institutional funding, complemented by competitive national, European, and industry-funded projects. In Switzerland, I experienced a similar model, with strong institutional support combined with a well-developed and highly competitive system of external research funding, particularly through the Swiss National Science Foundation.
In the United States, while the funding sources are largely similar, I became aware of a particularly strong emphasis on faculty members taking responsibility for developing independent research programs and securing the external funding needed to build and sustain them. This can create significant academic pressure, particularly in the early stages of an academic career. Experiencing these different environments has taught me to think of research not only in terms of scientific questions, but also in terms of the initiative, collaboration, and long-term vision required to turn those questions into a sustainable research program.
Prestige also matters. The reputation of an institution is not a minor detail. In aerospace, the United States hosts some of the world’s most renowned research centers, and prestige attracts visibility, talent, and investment. This raised a question that stayed with me throughout the journey: how much does merit depend on talent, rigorous preparation, and practical skills, and how much does it depend on being in the right place, at the right time, surrounded by the right network?
Each Californian ecosystem suggested a different answer.
San Diego seemed to offer a remarkable balance between work, climate, and a quieter lifestyle. Los Angeles, in contrast, vibrated with art, cinema, technology, and aerospace. Even the landscape appeared to change every few minutes, moving from hills and valleys to wide plains and ocean beaches. Cultures from all over the world meet there, each pursuing their own version of an American dream that, in Los Angeles, often feels just around the corner.
The Bay Area vibrated too, but in a different way. Inside universities, laboratories, incubators, and the headquarters of some of the world’s most influential companies I had the impression that every disruptive idea was expected either to emerge there or at least to pass through it. It is the kind of place where a college dropout can found an aerospace startup, employ a team, and collaborate with major American space companies. As an observer, that felt inspiring and exciting, but also slightly intimidating.
The more I traveled, however, the more I noticed that similarities can be found everywhere. I was told that I could recognize something of Mumbai in Los Angeles, in the movement of millions of people and the vastness of its urban geography. I could also see something of Rome, my hometown, in the way the city combines cinema, creativity, and the aerospace industry. Every place is partly interpreted through the experiences of the person observing and narrating it.
Once again, the neural-network analogy returned. Every neuron is born and shaped within a particular environment, but it can still move, adapt, and seek the path that represents it best. Connections with others can play a decisive role in that process.
Moving abroad is always a sacrifice. Everyone carries a personal life that may be complicated, but our choices depend on what we deeply desire. Ambition can become an inner engine, shaping our path one decision at a time, in the hope that we will eventually be able to look back without regret.
What struck me was that many of the people I met did not seem to regret moving thousands of kilometers away from home.
"Despite its contradictions, California felt like a place where building something meaningful, both professionally and personally, was genuinely possible."
Sarah Burckhardt (Academic Engagement Program Manager) and Ludovica Onofri
The journey also made me reflect on differences in educational systems, particularly in how access, resources, and academic support are balanced. Through the conversations I had, I became aware of a striking contrast between the two models. In Italian and Swiss public universities, the barrier is less concentrated at the point of entry and more distributed throughout the educational experience. In highly selective US institutions, a greater part of the selection can happen before admission, while substantial resources are then invested in supporting admitted students. A relatively accessible tuition, as it is in Europe, can also mean larger classes, more limited access to laboratory facilities, and fewer resources available to each student.
Which system is better? That may not be the most useful question. In the American system, merit appears especially important at the entrance gate, after which students are given the means to succeed and deal with hard competition and difficulties. In Europe, merit is often developed and tested throughout the journey. This can be difficult and discouraging, but it also means that achievement can be built over time through determination, resilience, and discipline.
Therefore the answer to my question is: merit is never only an individual quality. It is shaped by context, opportunity, support, geography, and networks. Talent matters. Preparation matters. But so do the synapses we are able to create. This is probably the most important lesson that I brought back home.
"In the end, my California experience was not only about universities, companies, laboratories, or cities. It was about people, and about realizing that every encounter can activate something: an idea, a doubt, a thought, or a possibility."
I left California with more questions than answers, but perhaps that is exactly the point. Networks are hungry for new connections, and I can think of no better way to satisfy that hunger than to keep meeting, listening, moving, and allowing new synapses to form and doubts to resolve.
Reach out to Sarah Burckhardt, Academic Engagement Program Manager at [email protected] if you want to learn more about the program.