The euro represents a political leap of faith that Europe's leaders hope will boost the continent's economic power. Even if it succeeds in that regard, however, the single currency may do little to stop the brain drain of young scientists from the continent. The three largest nations within 'Euroland' — Germany, France and Italy — each boast a rich scientific heritage. But many of their young scientific high-flyers cast their eyes across the Atlantic, or at least across the English Channel, when envisaging their future careers.

The dominance of the English language is a powerful factor, but it is not the sole reason for the net migration of scientific talent to North America and Britain. Also important are the highly individual academic career ladders that persist in different continental European countries. Employment rules and social security arrangements are also handled differently between countries. The fact that Euroland is such an academic patchwork tends to deter foreigners, and makes it difficult for natives who have gone abroad to return.

Some progress is being made. The European Commission has supported various programmes to promote the movement of young researchers between the European Union's member states. And in 1999, in Bologna, Italy, education ministers from 29 European countries agreed to harmonize aspects of their higher-education systems. These countries have pledged to introduce by 2010 comparable systems of Bachelors and Masters degrees, and a system of academic credits that will allow students to move between countries.

But despite these welcome initiatives, national isolation remains the rule, and no identifiably 'European' scientific career is in sight. It is no wonder that the continent's young scientists are crying out for more consideration to be paid to their plight (see Correspondence, page 259).

In countries such as Italy and Spain, for instance, the academic powers-that-be seem unwilling to reform recruitment systems that favour those who stay at home over — often stronger — candidates who have sought experience in foreign labs. Even programmes established with the goal of bringing back talented scientists working abroad have been blighted in this way (see Nature 413, 556; 2001).

Elsewhere, attempts to address national idiosyncrasies have left some problems unsolved. Germany, for instance, the dominant producer of PhDs in Europe, has embarked on an academic reform aimed at creating better opportunities for young scientists (see News Feature, pages 257–258). But there are concerns that the reforms have not been adequately resourced, and also that they will leave stranded those researchers who have been employed on fixed-term contracts for more than 12 years. They must now find a permanent post, or leave academia.

The French government, meanwhile, recently opened up more tenured posts in response to fears about creating a 'lost generation' of researchers, who would not be available to replace the ageing baby-boomer generation. But it has not tackled the underlying problem of a system that gives postdocs no official social security status or contract rights, and so forces many French nationals wanting postdoctoral experience to go abroad (see Nature 414, 145; 2001).

If Euroland's best young minds are to move between its nations with the same enthusiasm that currently lures them to North America and Britain, university administrators, immigration offices and society at large must learn that foreign researchers are not troublesome inconveniences, but highly motivated workers who offer their skills to the benefit of their hosts.