Let’s start with the basics: A PhD (Doctorate in Philosophy) is the highest level of academic certification a university offers. This requires producing original research in a specific field, which upon completion must be defended in front of a panelist of experts. The term dates back as far as Medieval Europe though, at the time, the requirements usually only called for advanced scholarship rather than original research. Even now, requirements for a PhD differ across institutions ad nations but in all cases, original research remains compulsory.
So why do a PhD? I could write a whole post on what to think about when you’re considering applying for a PhD (let me know if this is something you would want!) but, honestly, it really is a very personal decision. Professionally, having a PhD qualifies you as an expert in your field. Often, the assumption is that having a PhD is a gateway to remaining in academia to teach at a university level. Indeed, a PhD is a requirement for higher education teaching, however there are plenty of other options (once again, something I could write a whole post about).
I went into the first year of my PhD incredibly excited and determined, under the mistaken belief that I knew all I needed to know to be prepared for the experience. I had heard all the horror stories of people warning me I would not feel the same excitement in a year’s time, that I would come to hate my topic and feel disillusioned by the whole process. Not only did I find such comments demotivating and unnecessary but I was shocked at just how frequently I heard it. On some level, I understood it as a warning of the toll it can take on you rather than advice to give up before I had even started. But these words haunted me throughout my first year and though potentially well-meaning, they were not particularly helpful to preparing for my year. As a result, now that I have completed my first year of my PhD, I have created and compiled my own list of the most important things I learned during this year and the advice I would give from my experiences.
A PhD takes a toll on those around you as well as on you
You are always conscious of the effort you have made to get where you are; the countless hours at the library, the many emails written to professors looking for references, the endless revisions of essays. However what became even more apparent to me this past year in a way I had never experienced before was the impact that doing my PhD had on the people around me.
On one hand you have the people who support you materially, whether this be financially or in terms of accommodation. Often either parents or partners, someone has invested in you to achieve your dream On the other hand, you have those who support you emotionally. More often than not, these categories overlap. A friend of mine who is in the last year of her PhD recently said to me that when you sign up to do a PhD, your friends and family unwittingly sign up to you being a worse child, partner or friend than you want to be for the period of study. A PhD is undoubtedly hard intellectually, but it is also hard emotionally on those around you.
My advice to this: Acknowledge the role your friends and family play into supporting you. You may not be able to give back to them the way you might want to, but recognising what they do will benefit your social life.
A PhD is a full time job
My programme is organised in such a way that I am often left to my own devices free to organise my schedule as I see fit. I am not expected to attend lectures unless I think they will be beneficial to my research nor am I (at this stage) expected to hold tutorials for undergraduate students. Though this might not be the case for all programmes as they do often differ, this has enabled me to have an unprecedented amount of flexibility in choosing how to organise my time, something I frequently take advantage of.
Indeed, so much so that I am often found travelling to see family and friends. Like many who go into higher education, I no longer live in the same town as my parents of siblings. Even my closest friends live in other cities. When I find weeks that do not have any planned meetings or obligations, I go and see the people I love. This has led to some making assumptions on both my workload and work ethic, usually along the lines of ‘living the easy life’. Do not be fooled by these jokes and jabs. The work to complete (or rather, I should say, begin) a PhD is immense. Even when I am managing my own schedule, I had to take the format of a regular 9-5, except I would also always be bringing my work home with me and having a weekend off was a luxury.
But the hardest part is just how much work you end up doing that is not directly related to your thesis. This can include writing papers for conferences or seminars, marking student works, or just working any other job to be able to finance your way through your degree. The work feels never-ending and the reality is, it very much is never ending.
My advice: Do not underestimate the time you will need to complete tasks and chapters. It is always better to give yourself more time than too little. At the same time, learn to turn-off. Time to relax and not worry about work can be hard to find, but when it comes your way, take advantage of it and properly turn off for that time.
Constructing a PhD thesis is an endeavour of mental acrobatics
The thing I think I can say I have learnt that has had the most impact on me is that conceiving of an original contribution to an academic field is a mental challenge beyond anything I have experienced or anticipated. I almost feel embarrassed to say that I did not expect it to be as challenging as it has been. Coming up with a project of 80,000 to 100,000 words is immense. And I am not just talking about the topic, which you usually have to determine before even applying for a programme, but similarly the execution of it.
Unsurprisingly, in endeavouring to produce an original contribution to the field, you are, more often than not, left without many sources to reference. Ironically, while the search for appropriate and relevant sources is a constant battle for the PhD student, coming across the ‘perfect’ sources, which give all the information and arguments they could ever want is a PhDers worst nightmare. This is because it would effectively mean that their work is in fact unoriginal, someone has beaten them to it and they must start over if they wish to fulfil the requirements of their degree.
Essentially this means that PhD students are dropped in the deep end, left to wade on their own and it is up to them to determine which way is up or down and how to get to shore.
However, at the same time, I have never been as intellectually excited as I am when I am on a role with my research and writing. When I feel the pieces of the puzzle whose shape and design are constantly changing finally come together, those moments, though far and few between, make everything worth it.
My advice: Find a topic that excites you. Even if it is very interesting, if it is not something you think you could talk obsessively about without getting bored, chances are it is not the topic for you.
You will constantly be creating and readjusting your routine
While you are dealing with the workload of a full-time job, you have none of the stability of a 9-5. Indeed, the never-ending task that inevitably comes back on my to-do list every few weeks is to adjust my routine to be more efficient and applicable to my life. However, as a PhD student’s schedule is so often flexible it often falls on us to move our schedules around to suit other people whose availabilities are more limited. While I am happy to do this on occasion, I soon found that I had fallen into a pattern of unintentionally prioritising other people’s time over my own, and in doing so I was sending the message that my time and work was not as important. This would inevitably lead to falling behind in my work and having to catch up or change my routine to account for potential requests for flexibility, starting the vicious cycle over again.
My advice: Do not be too hard on yourself when you plans fall apart or you cannot stay on schedule. Though flexibility can place a lot of pressure on you, it also opens up a lot of opportunities. Prioritise your time and treat it like unbreakable appointments and show up for yourself.
Be aware of the commitment you are making
From the age of about four, education is a predetermined path for many: kindergarten, elementary, middle school, high school and some form of higher education. For those who continue on to postgraduate degrees, many do not take breaks between their degrees. This means that there are some who enter their first year of their PhD after having been in school continuously for the last 18-20 years. It is one thing to sign up for 2-4 years of higher education at the age of eighteen with the understanding that you will be going into the ‘real’ world after it, but something quite different to be 23 or 24 and signing up for a further 3 to 6 years minimum. Yes, on average, it takes that long.
It is a commitment. A commitment for you, and as we have previously established, a commitment for your family and friends. It is one that I did not fully comprehend before starting. Actually, it did not properly hit me until the end of my first year when, after a particularly bad episode of burnout I found my saying ‘I’m not sure I can keep this up for another two years!’
My advice: Take the time to conceptualise just how long your programme is. Picture each year in detail to understand the significance of the time you are committing to. You’re in it for the long haul and the sooner you realise it the better you’ll be able to manage your time.
