Public–private collaboration is often discussed as a pipeline problem: universities need more industry opportunities, companies need more academic partners, and everyone needs a better matchmaking mechanism.
But in conversations with research leaders on campuses, a different bottleneck comes up again and again—one that doesn’t show up in dashboards.
It’s the comfort gap: the gap between how researchers are trained to pursue funding and how corporate collaboration actually happens.
Reginald Cannon, Director of Engagement and Visibility for Research and Sponsored Programs at Tennessee State University (TSU), puts it plainly. Many faculty are highly capable researchers, but they’re not always comfortable with the direct engagement that industry partnerships require—especially when the “normal” pathway for research support has historically been more transactional and process-driven.
Why the comfort gap persists
Researchers are often used to responding to structured solicitations: requirements are published, submission portals are standardized, and in many cases you can complete the entire process with limited back-and-forth until late stages.
“Public–private collaboration isn’t just about more opportunities—it’s about helping researchers feel comfortable starting the conversation.”
Corporate collaboration tends to flip that dynamic. Before there’s a statement of work or a scoped project, there’s often a conversation: clarifying the need, shaping the approach, aligning timelines, and setting expectations for collaboration.
As Cannon notes, that difference can create hesitation—particularly for faculty who have spent years optimizing for formal, rules-based submission processes. The work isn’t less rigorous. The pathway is simply more human.
And when teams avoid that discomfort, the costs compound:
- promising matches don’t happen because no one initiates contact,
- opportunities don’t get shaped early enough to fit academic strengths,
- and universities default back to familiar channels—even when new forms of partnership might be strategically important.
Why curation changes the equation
Cannon describes why curated opportunities matter so much for campus adoption: they help researchers quickly understand whether there’s a real fit.
The goal is simple: when faculty see that familiar signal, they don’t want to miss what’s inside.
When an opportunity clearly states what a corporate partner is looking for, faculty can do a fast mental match against their expertise—then decide whether it’s worth taking the next step.
That may sound small, but it’s not. In practice, it reduces three common sources of friction:
- Search fatigue: looking at the same familiar sources and missing adjacent opportunities
- Ambiguity: unclear needs that are hard to map to a researcher’s capabilities
- Activation energy: the effort required to move from “interesting” to “I’m going to engage”
Cannon called this kind of mechanism “near perfect” because it makes engagement feel less like a leap and more like a guided step: Here’s the need. Here’s the context. If you match, reach out.
Adoption is a behavior change problem
One of the most practical insights from Cannon’s interview is that this isn’t just a partnerships problem—it’s an internal behavior-change problem.
Researchers don’t need a motivational speech about why industry matters. Many already understand the value. What they need are repeatable cues and pathways that make engagement feel normal.
Cannon described a simple but powerful goal: when faculty see a familiar signal—like a recognizable icon in an email—they should feel a “can’t miss this” pull. Not because it’s hype, but because it’s become part of their professional rhythm: scan, triage, engage.
That’s how institutional change happens. Not all at once, but through small routines that compound.
“Halo is a bridge to the corporate world—helping us connect research capabilities with real industry needs.”
A practical playbook for closing the comfort gap
If the comfort gap is real, then closing it requires more than adding more opportunities. It requires designing for confidence.
Here are five practical moves research offices and innovation leaders can make:
1) Normalize the “first conversation.”
Make it explicit that initiating contact is not “bothering someone.” It’s part of the process. A simple internal script can help: “We’re exploring fit—could we schedule 15 minutes to understand your need?”
2) Create low-stakes on-ramps.
Offer short “office hours” style sessions or internal coaching where faculty can practice how to approach industry partners, ask clarifying questions, and articulate their value.
3) Translate needs into research language (and back again).
Many missed collaborations aren’t capability gaps—they’re framing gaps. A good intermediary can map corporate problems into researchable questions and map academic strengths into industry outcomes.
4) Make engagement visible.
Celebrate early-stage wins: introductions made, exploratory calls booked, follow-ups completed. Not every success is a contract. Early momentum matters.
5) Define success in measurable terms.
Cannon offered a concrete metric: shifting the annual funding “pie chart” so corporate awards become a meaningful share of the portfolio. That kind of measurement helps campuses move from aspiration to strategy.
A shift that’s already underway
Cannon also points to a broader trend many universities are feeling: uncertainty in traditional funding environments is motivating campuses to diversify partnerships—not to replace existing pathways, but to add resilience and to accelerate translation by working with organizations that are actively building.
For institutions like TSU, with strengths spanning agriculture, engineering, and emerging areas like AI, the question isn’t whether they can contribute. It’s whether the ecosystem makes it easy for those contributions to connect with real needs.
And often, the difference between “capable” and “connected” is something surprisingly human: the confidence to start the conversation—and the systems that make that first step feel natural.
