Traveling during your PhD

This guest post is by Dr Eva Alisic, Research Fellow at Monash University who researches and blogs on the topic of trauma recovery in children and adolescents. Eva spent some time at Harvard University while she was studying. In this post she shares some of her tips for getting abroad. You can find Eva as @EvaAlisic on Twitter.

Are you considering travel during your PhD – such as visiting a research group overseas for a few weeks or months? Excellent idea! In my experience an extended visit abroad while you do your degree is very valuable, both to your PhD and your future career.

Going abroad is one way to get inspiration – especially if your interest in your research is flagging. It’s a good way to learn new things and look with fresh eyes at your research environment and PhD. Of course, travel is an excellent way to expand your network, which is vital if you want to continue in academia. My interesting international contacts certainly helped me land my current job.

In this post I’d like to tackle a few of the obstacles to going overseas – or should I say – the excuses?

I say excuses because traveling overseas while you study is not as difficult as you might think. I started out with no funding, no contacts, and no history of international exchanges in my department – just my own enthusiasm and the wish to make it work. And there are many ways to make it work. Even if your consulate decides 2 weeks before departure that Harvard didn’t provide you with the correct papers for a US visa and postpones your visit for 8 months (yes, that happened).

When I told people that I had spent a few months at Harvard Medical School during my PhD, several said “Aren’t your colleagues jealous?” and “Oh, if I had had the chance, that would have been so great”. I usually replied “You had – and still have – the chance” (though in a somewhat more polite form). So let’s have a look at some of these potential obstacles and strategies you might use to achieve your dream:

My supervisor won’t like it

In my view every sensible supervisor should encourage PhD students to go explore what’s happening overseas. It should be viewed as an essential part of the learning process. So test your assumption about your supervisor before you assume they will not be in favour. I think the best way is to present a plan which pre-empts potential objections. For example, figure out how you can accommodate your deadlines and/or teaching requirements; couple this with a persuasive argument as to the benefits.

If you are among the unfortunate few whose supervisor doesn’t like it I would recommend you still pursue your plan. When I made mine, I was pretty confident that my supervisors would be happy for me to go ahead, but I made sure to be independent of their approval. I was ready to go during my holidays and on my personal budget. Obviously, that would have been a sacrifice, but it shows that you don’t need your supervisor’s approval if you deem such a trip is important for your personal development (although I would consider changing supervisors if they are against it, it’s not a good sign…).

I don’t know where to go

In your first year it’s likely you will be exploring the literature, designing your projects, and just settling in in general. But after a while, especially if you have attended one or more international conferences, you will start having an idea of the people and research groups you like. Which academics do you cite more than once in your writing? If you have enthusiastic and internationally oriented supervisors, do they have recommendations and contacts?

Don’t underestimate yourself. Sometimes I have heard students say “That’s such a fantastic place, I’ll never get in”. You may not realise it, but pro-active international students are attractive to supervisors in other countries (trauma psychology students, do get in touch with me!).  I didn’t know that I would end up going to Harvard when I started looking for a place. I had a number of interesting research groups in mind, and in addition, I asked some senior people at a conference for suggestions. They recommended getting in touch with someone at Harvard, who in turn advised me to contact one of her colleagues, which worked out very well. If it hadn’t worked out, I would have followed up on the other positive contacts I had established via formal emails with my CV.

I don’t have funding

This is the reason I hear most often. It can be tough for PhD students to stay above the poverty line in many places – travel can seem way out of reach. There are several ways around the funding problem. Start by finding out what your university offers by way of support; you may need to plan in advance if there are conditions you need to meet (for example, RMIT University has a scholarship program to help students attend international conferences but you need to have passed your confirmation first). Try outside your university for other grant money which might be targeted at researchers with special interests, such as the Jason Database.

Your supervisor may be able to organize you some funds which can supplement any money you get from the uni and don’t forget that your host supervisor may have funds for a visitor. The most likely way to get there is to combine all these opportunities: if you are going to a conference in the US anyway, incorporate it at either end of your visit and save travel costs. If you go for a few months, you may also be able to arrange to sublet your own place or even do a house swap – did you know there is a service, “Sabbatical Homes”, just for academics?!

I don’t have the time.

If you would really like to go, you do have the time. There is always a way to fit it in. Maybe you decide that your PhD will take a little longer, maybe you swap part of your annual leave for an international visit, or maybe you split your visit in two to be home for that important event you have to attend. I know these may seem sacrifices in the first instance (they are!), but I think the above mentioned advantages and the fun of going abroad outweigh the drawbacks.

Have you traveled while you study? Do you have any tips to offer those who are contemplating a trip? Tell us in the comments or join in #phdchat on Twitter this Wednesday night, 7pm Melbourne time (note time shift this month) where Dr Eva Alisic and @thesiswhisperer will be co-hosting an online discussion on the topic of travel during PhD study.

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How to get into a PhD program

Jess Drake (aka @soilduck) suggested she write a post on how to get into a PhD program a little while ago. I thought it would be a good follow up to Ehsan’s popular “Should you do a PhD?” because it can be surprisingly difficult to get into a program. After helping a few friends and family members through the process of getting in, I am aware of how much ‘insider knowledge’ can be required.

Jess struggled initially to write this post as she only has experience of getting into a science program, so I advised that she just write it for scientists. I was planning to write one a follow up for humanities people. As it happens, I think the majority of the advice she offers holds for both cases. I don’t think a follow up post is needed – but I am open to the idea. Let us know at the end if you think more specific advice is required.

So, you have decided to do a PhD (in science).

You have found something that you are really really passionate about, and you want to learn more. You’ve worked out that a PhD fits in your life plans. You have the income you need, and some savings to get you out of tight spots. You have talked about it with your family and loved ones, and they are all on board the PhD roller-coaster. And you are pretty excited and wondering when you can start!

It is hard not to let the excitement get the better of your judgement. Before starting, you need to find the right university, team and supervisor for you. Remember, you will be dedicating 3+ years of PhD discovery, and you need to make sure you have the right match to make it that much more comfortable and fun.

Here are a few steps to help you find your PhD match.

1. What makes you passionate?

Most science research is conducted in groups with funding, and a specific project is usually worked out in that group. Don’t spend too much time working out a specific topic, just write down some things that stir your curiosity or subjects you are interested in. You’ll use this for your next step.

With that list, also write down types of scientific processes, thinking, modelling, lab work, field work etc you like and don’t like to do. Also have a think about things that are important to you in the work place. That could include things like support, open discussions, amount of input and feedback you need etc. You can use this list to do some research on possible universities, groups and supervisors to find a project and people that suit you.

2. Internet stalking

Before you start talking to specific people, do a bit of research on the web. Have a look at what universities have science programs you are interested in. Have a look at their specific projects, do they match the list? Yes – write it down. No – keep going!

And don’t discriminate based on University rankings. It doesn’t matter where you get the PhD from, but the people and the project do!

Using the matching Unis and groups, find out names of scientists are working on the project and stalk them… a little. Before you approach a potential supervisor, you want to make sure they know their stuff and that they will help you get a PhD. Google their name and see what they are currently and previously working on. Is it the same topic? Slightly different? Very different? You can have a look on any big science databases (like Web of Science or Google Scholar) for their citation record. Have they published much and in what field? Do they publish with many other people and are well connected? If they haven’t published for awhile or not in the field you are interested in, you might want to ask ‘why?’

3. Wave the red flag

You have found an interesting group, done a bit of research on the people and now it is time to go in! Approach the potential supervisor! Everyone is different, but I suggest calling them and sending a follow-up email. Introduce yourself, say you are interested in their research group and your intentions on doing a PhD. Ask them if they have anything available and go from there!

If they don’t reply, don’t be disheartened! Academics can be bad at answering email. Try again, or someone else in their group. You could also contact the School’s PhD advisor or administration contacts and ask them about the best way to get in contact with the potential supervisor. If the potential supervisor never replies, cross them off the list! It means they are probably too busy and you don’t need a supervisor who can’t get back to you about things.

4. You can interview too

If you get called in for an interview (and you probably will) use this opportunity to do some of your own interviewing. This is when you pull out that second list. Find out more about the project and what the team does, if there is funding and what type/how much. Ask your potential supervisor about how the team works, what support is like and the facilities.

If you are able, ask some of their current and past students about the supervisor, team, uni, facilities and any other important questions on your list. Is the supervisor prompt and helpful? Are they away a lot? Do they know lots about the subject? Ask them about the facilities and have a look at them. Is there everything there that you need? Is the lab up to date or do they have access to another lab through funding/on campus?

Finding a supervisor and team that fits your personality and research is key to a harmonious, productive and successful PhD. Take plenty of time researching potential supervisors.

5. Wave the white flag

After you have interviewed and researched a few places, have a look at your lists again. Which place fits most of your questions? Do you have to toss up between some good and bad things? Are there a few options? Take plenty of time to make decisions. Don’t think about it for a week or two, and then come back and look at your lists. And when deciding, try to be flexible! It is better to have an awesome supervisor and good facilities in an area your care a little less about than a not-so-good supervisor in an area you are more interested in; a not-so-good supervisor may mean a more stressful PhD journey.

Once you have settled on one or more options then you are ready to apply! Call them, contact them, and write the applications. Put in a few applications if you can; no harm in having more choice. Then wait to see where you will be heading next!

Done!

It may seem like a lot to think about and do, but remember it is 3+ years of your life. And it isn’t just about a PhD, it is also about learning, growing and having the best opportunity to enjoy the research and then progress with a future career (academic, research or otherwise). And finding a place that is right for you will ensure a happy PhD.

One last thing: If you have a specific project in mind I still recommend going through the same steps, even if you know the perfect person. You want to be absolutely sure it is the right place and person for you. There are pluses and minuses to going this way… but that is a topic for another post.

Do you have anything you think should be added to this advice? Perhaps something you wish had known before you started looking? Let us know in the comments.

Editor’s note: Both Jess and I are Australians. I am not sure how much the advice holds in other countries, particularly in the United States. I hope those with experience will write in and enlighten us as to how it works elsewhere so this post can be a good starting point for many potential students.

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Under-graduate baggage?

This guest post was written by Prof Denise Cuthbert, the Dean of the School of Graduate Research at RMIT University (and my manager).

In our office we make time to have extended chats about the difficulties students encounter in doing research and how we can help. After one such chat, Denise sent me an article she wrote with Amy Dobson and Kate Cregan for “Undergraduate Research News” last November based on some prior research she had done.

I asked her if I could republish a modified version of the article here as it asks an important question: how does undergraduate education affect the transition to research and researching? I hope you enjoy this post and the questions it raises.

For a couple of years I helped to run a course called “Contemporary Issues in Sociological Research” which was designed to provide an ‘authentic’ research experience for third-year undergraduate students in the social sciences. While we had no doubt the unit offered a valuable and even transformative experience for the majority of students who completed, there were some real challenges to teaching it. Some of the brightest students had difficulties in making the transition from one mode of learning (course work) to another (research).

The students who enrolled were inured to highly regimented coursework units, with prescribed readings and circumscribed tasks set for each week of the semester. By contrast our research curriculum was set only in skeleton terms; the ‘content’ was to be largely to be generated by the students and there was a slender reading list. Some students, unable to cope with being handed this responsibility for their own learning, withdrew almost immediately. Several of these students confessed to being attracted to the unit precisely because the prescribed readings were minimal. On discovering that readings needed to be generated by them related to the specific work they were to do in the unit, their response was to walk.

A high degree of self-selection in (and out) of a unit of this kind is to be expected. Those that remained in the course were the best and the brightest, but they still struggled in these uncharted research waters. Notwithstanding their enthusiasm and excitement at doing ‘real’ research (as distinct, in their words, from the sort of research they had done in other units, including a compulsory methods unit), the sense of uncertainty, even danger generated both positive and negative responses. Clearly this transition to another mode of learning was deeply unsettling for even very competent students, despite their clear abilities to think and write at a high level.

We wondered: was the discomfort and inability to cope well with uncertainty a result of the kind of student being produced in undergraduate programs, both in the social sciences and humanities and perhaps elsewhere in the contemporary University? Does the structure of undergraduate programs inhibit students from acquiring the skills they need to become a researcher later on?

Over the last couple of decades Australian higher education has been audited and evaluated by the government with increasing fevour, all in the name of improving quality and avoiding risk. The upshot of this is that undergraduate coursework is much more proscribed and certain than it used to be. Assignments are set with clear expectations and criteria for assessment; reading lists are often exhaustive, reducing the need for students to search for their own literature.

Research degree study is profoundly different from this safe, walled undergraduate garden. You are largely responsible for your own learning. You need to make decisions about what to read and how to spend your time. Your supervisor is there to help you, but they cannot always anticipate your problems; nor can they reliably shield you from them when they occur.

There may be very good quality assurance reasons for the high level of prescription required at undergraduate levels (which looks set to increase under the rigours of the Australian Qualifications Framework). However, when educating to produce research outcomes and future researchers, real questions need to be asked as to whether this approach to undergraduate education fosters the capacities for risk and uncertainty entailed in good research.

It is well documented that getting good marks in coursework programs is not in all cases a predictor of success in research programs. The resilience, creativity and inventiveness required in researchers is more likely to be developed through working in business, industry and the professions. These qualities are harder and harder to foster in the highly controlled world of undergraduate coursework programs.

Perhaps we need to stop trying to straight jacket undergraduate courses into predictable formats, with predictable outcomes and predictable learning objectives. It is possible that we actually underestimate what undergraduate students are capable of. As one of our interviewees commented, once she overcame her initial fears and anxieties about what was being asked of her, our course generated the kind of excitement that she came to university to experience, but found wanting in her other undergraduate studies: ’This is what university should have been like from the start.”

If you are reading this blog you are probably teaching now, or have taught undergraduates at some point in the past. When you graduate you may well become a full time teaching academic. So – what do you think? Do some people start a research career with undesirable ‘undergraduate baggage’? What can we do to help people make the transition to researching from coursework?

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The ‘few months post’ post

This is a guest post by Maia Sauren, a Ph.D. student at RMIT who submitted her thesis a few months ago.  Maia has written quite a few guest posts for us now about the process of doing a PhD, how to make writing one more efficient and strange feelings provoked by the period immediately post submission. In this post she reflects on how she feels now that a few months have passed – was it all worth it?

There is so much you can achieve with your life when all you do is work full time. I’d forgotten what it was like, not to feel guilty and scared all the time. Compared to a thesis, forty hours a week is a laughably small sum of hours to be spending on work.

The first six weeks after submission I spent having what I like to call a slow motion nervous breakdown. The further I get from that part of my life, the better my decision-making becomes, and the clearer I see my own craziness during that period. Spending a good few months locked in a room with nothing but pyjamas and tea gives you a very odd perspective. My ability to make good decisions was, shall we say, diminished.

And then – well, maybe the thing to do is show you the change in my desktop image:

Before:

After:

(Editor’s note: I had to substitute Maia’s real desktop photos with royalty free images, but these capture the spirit of the ones she sent)

My attitude at the moment can be summed up as, ‘life can just never be that shit again’.

In terms of work, I’ve been doing short contracts as a data analyst – a month here, two days there. The low-commitment lifestyle is suiting me well at the moment. I do a great job, but I have no connection to the overall projects beyond my part. Was the data collected accurately? Was the survey designed to provide statistical significance? Do I agree with the project aims? Who cares! I liberally and gratuitously avoid knowing. I’m starting to feel the itch of doing a project I’m passionate about, but it’s still tentative.

After so many years of being body-and-soul invested in the quality and outcome of my work, it’s a relief to be unattached.

Some of that has been consciously re-training my instincts. I’ve made sure I have evening plans, otherwise I find myself at work at 8pm.

You know what I’ve realised? I’m smart and capable. My resume could’ve told you that, and I’ve known it intellectually. My emotional response for a few years has been that I am not worthy of taking on any ‘real’ job, because I haven’t completed… something.

I wish I hadn’t wasted so much time feeling I was crap at things. There is no substantive difference between who I am now, and who I was six months ago, but today I feel confident and strident. I apply for jobs with clarity about how my skills fit, how quickly I can learn the systems and provide usefulness, and that I can do All The Things.

The issue wasn’t ability to learn or apply knowledge. The problem was my attachment to the equation: when I have a Ph.D., then I become a Good Clever Able Person, and until then I am not those things. Which is utter rubbish, clearly. I wish I could explain this to my past self, and to all the tortured souls around me still in thesis-land.

Ph.D. may not worth it for you. I’m still not convinced I haven’t wasted my time. But here I am, and there’s no point regretting it. As my supervisor said once, it may not always add anything to your circumstances, but it certainly can’t hurt. I’m a little jaded right now, so maybe ask me again in a couple of years.

Meanwhile, I’ve been procrastinating doing my minor corrections. Oh yeh – I passed! With nothing more than a few ‘rewrite this bit a little’! I’m stunned. It hasn’t sunk in yet, but I’m certainly enjoying the after-effects.

(and may we say, belated congratulations from The Thesis Whisperer Maia! – Ed)

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5 ways to look more clever than you actually are

Not so long ago I missed my flight back from Sydney to Melbourne. When I realised I was eating dinner instead of being on a plane on the way home to my family I flipped out. Luckily I was with the wonderful @witty_knitter, who made me take some deep breaths and finish my sausages while she looked up the number for the airline. When I finally got through to a person at the call centre the conversation went something like this:

Call Centre worker: “It says here ‘Dr Mewburn’ – is that correct?”
Me: “That’s right”
Call centre worker: “And why is it that you missed your flight Dr Mewburn?”
Me: “I misread the ticket”
[a short pause]
Call centre worker: “How did you misread the ticket?”
Me: “Look, I have a PhD ok? It doesn’t make me immune from stupid”

Sadly this is true. A PhD involves an ability to learn new things and a certain amount of gritty determination, but it doesn’t make you immune from stupid. If anything, getting a PhD makes you  more aware of your limitations than you were before. The more you know, the more you know you don’t know, if you know what I mean.

In my job I have the privilege to work with some extraordinarily intelligent people. I mean – really clever. Intimidatingly clever. Clever to the point where  I dare not open my mouth in some meetings for fear someone will discover I shouldn’t really be there. It’s not easy to live in a university and be of average intelligence so I have some coping strategies, developed by watching how clever people behave. The general principle here is: if I act like a clever person, I may become clever – or at least I will appear to be clever (which, existentially speaking, is the same thing).

So here’s 5 of my coping strategies – I hope you will write in with some of your own. Those of us who live by the ‘fake it until you make it’ principle need all the help we can get!

1) Wherever possible, be the one to speak last

When I first started going to meetings at the University I was always the first one to jump in and give my opinion. I think this was a hang over from my school days; I was the nerdy girl at the front of the class, always out to prove that I was smarter than anyone else. But being too eager to give your opinion all the time just doesn’t work in the professional world; more often than not people will think you are annoying rather than clever because you appear to monopolise the conversation.

I don’t always succeed in holding the nerdy girl inside, but at least I try. I can’t remember who gave me this advice, but I have tried it now for years and found it to be sound. If you wait and listen carefully to what others are saying it gives you time to reflect on and digest the conversation. If you speak last you are more likely to be the one who comes up with the unexpected, novel or creative suggestion at the end, rather than being the one who is just stating the obvious. If you can’t think of something creative, speaking last gives you the opportunity to connect what other people are saying together and offer an explanation or over riding principle which others will usually agree with – instant cleverness guaranteed.

2) Have some ‘pocket facts’ handy

As Mr Thesis Whisperer is fond of saying, the plural of anecdote is not data. Throwing a few choice statistics about your field of expertise into a conversation will make you look extremely clever, without too much extra effort. For instance, I have lost count of the number of times I have sat in meetings where someone says that such and such must be true about doing a research degree because it was true for them, or because they have heard so often they assume it is true. Statements like “research students are poor communicators and need to be taught transferable skills” drive me really crazy, so I try to have some ‘pocket facts’ on hand to counter these common assumptions.

Recently my friend Nigel Palmer did an analysis which showed that most research students think they bring skills into their PhD, not the other way around. The only skill that students consistently claim they developed while studying for a PhD is library and information retrieval skills. This shouldn’t surprise us because 55.2% of students come to research degree study from the workplace, not from undergraduate degrees and a significant number of them have had a gap of more than 10 years since they last studied. That little statistic usually stops that particular line of criticism of research students dead.

You’re welcome.

3. Learn the lingo

Every place I have ever worked or studied has had its own dialect. At RMIT university we are extraordinarily fond of acronyms. Here’s a list of the ones I use on an almost daily basis when I talk with colleagues:

• ATN
• DDogs
• RTS
• TEQSA
• AQF
• DIISR
• DEEWR
• PREQ
• CES
• DVC R&I

And that’s not counting the more esoteric ones, which I recognise, but don’t have to use often. Mr Thesis Whisperer calls these ‘TLAs’ (three letter acronyms) and they populate most advanced knowledge fields and institutions. Sadly, knowing the right TLAs, what they mean and how they relate to each other, makes you look clever. Luckily acquiring this sort of information is a bit like learning to spell: you only have to learn it once, and if you have a  decent memory, you will look clever for years and years.

4. Beware of jargon

Despite the fact that knowing the TLAs  is advantageous, if you speak in jargon too much the truly clever people will get suspicious. There’s an excellent chapter in Howard Becker’s book “writing for social scientists” (which should be renamed “writing for everyone”) which talks about the urge to “write classy”. It’s a trap thinking you can copy language you see in books and papers and it will make you appear more intelligent.

Now, I have absolutely no data to back this up, but in my experience of university life, most academics are not going to admit they don’t understand you, they just wont really listen to you (or cite your papers). People who can translate difficult concepts into language that others can understand are often more persuasive. Since persuasiveness often conflated with cleverness, speaking clearly and concisely is a winning strategy.  This is true as much for thesis writing, in my view, as it is for meetings and presentations.

5. Turn the problem around

Sometimes problems need simple solutions, not more complex ones. One trick which my boss shared with me recently is to ask: “what should we do less of?”. A disarmingly simple question, but an extremely powerful one. Take your thesis as one example: what can you do less of? The pomodoro technique is a good example of this principle in action. By working in shorter bursts, but with more focus and concentration, you can achieve more than sitting at your desk all day banging your head on the screen.

What do you think? Have you watched clever people in action while you are studying? What have you learned from them?

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What to say when someone asks you: “Should I do a PhD?”

“Do you think I should do a PhD?”

It seems like I can’t go to a party without at least one person asking me this question – does this happen to you too? I probably shouldn’t be surprised; according to a recent government report the number of people undertaking a research degree in Australia has increased by 41%  over the last 10 or so years.

There’s no doubt that some students start without realistic expectations of the amount of work that is involved and how it may affect their life, which is why I was pleased when Dr Ehsan Gharaie, a lecturer in the school of property Construction and project management at RMIT, sent me this guest post.

As a recent PhD graduate in a field which is relatively new to this form of education, Ehsan tells me that he is often approached by people who ask him how to get into a PhD program. Ehsan tells me he replies: “tell me why and then, I will tell you how” – this seems like a good answer because PhD study is not for everyone.  I hope you will send you Ehsan’s list of diagnostic questions to the next person who asks you: “should I do a PhD?” (American readers please note – this post refers to the dissertation writing part of the PhD Program only)

Can you work without anyone telling you what to do?

A PhD is way different from Bachelor and Master Programs. There is no lecturer telling you what to do and you are not asked to do an assignment or sit for an exam. If you have been working in industry or government, you have probably got used to having a boss who tells you what to do and having staff who help you do your work. Here there is no boss, and no one helps you out. You have a supervisor who, if you are lucky, advises you and guides you through the process and that is all. Thus, think about yourself and see if you can work without anyone telling you what to do. There are many decisions that you have to make in the process and you should be ready to take on that responsibility.

Are you ready to work by yourself for four years?

Many PhD students work in isolation most of the time. There is no official classmate or peers. Your first and best friend is your computer and you have to spend years with it. The second person in your list of acquaintances is your supervisor which you interact with probably dozen times a year. Are you looking for the third person? The answer is none. Thus, be ready to work alone for four years.

Have you thought of your family commitments?

When you are an undergraduate student, your main concern is your study and the rest is just fun. But PhD usually happens when you have more important commitments. If you are not married, you are probably thinking of it. If you are married and have not had children yet, that is probably the next thing you are thinking of. Do you have children? Then you certainly think about them way more than your studies. There are even PhD students who have to take care of their parents. Further, you probably have a good job and thus, income and financial comfort and you should think the effect of your studies on your financial situation. You see, there are always life commitments, and the issue of study-life balance should be extremely important in your decision in doing PhD. You have to get your head around them before you start doing your PhD.

What is your career plan?

People usually study at universities to become trained and get a degree which has a clear set of professions or jobs attached to them. A PhD, like other university programs, is a training process; you will be trained to be a researcher or an academic. You learn how to do literature review, how to find a research problem, how to figure out a research methodology and method, how to follow and implement that method, how to present your result and at the end how to write a thesis that covers all your arguments and demonstrates all your efforts during past four years of your life. Thus, if you are interested in these “how tos” and if you want to become a researcher or an academic in the future, that would be the path to go through. But if you are thinking of some other things, you better think it twice.

And finally, why do you want to do it?

Getting PhD is not easy. It needs passion and patience. The only driver in the whole journey is your self-motivation. So what is your motivation? Is it the title of being a “Doctor”? Do you have a brother or sister with PhD and you feel you have to have it? Are you pushed by your family? If you are not convinced yet that you really need to do a PhD or you have doubts about it, wait for a while and do not rush to it. After all this is going to be at least four years of your life and you need to make sure that you will not run out of steam at the middle of way.

I hope this post will be read by a lot of people thinking about doing a PhD, so do you have advice you would like to offer? Pop it in the comments!

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How to give good meeting (there’s an app for that!)

The other day I was strolling back from a leisurely gossip session coffee with @ researchwhisper at Pearson and Murphy’s cafe when I ran into one of my favourite academics, let’s call him Ned. Why is Ned one of my favourites? Well, I know this sounds like a stupid reason, but Ned knows how to rock a meeting.

I’m always happy to go to a meeting run by Ned (and not just because he always has a spare pen when I have forgotten to bring one). Ned always has a good reason for calling a meeting and knows what he wants to achieve from it. He is ruthless about keeping the meeting on time and on topic, while appearing to listen to all points of view. I have learned a lot about how to give good meeting from Ned: a skill that’s vastly under rated in academia in my opinion.

If you think about it, running a meeting is an essential skill for a PhD student. You will need to have regular meetings with your supervisor during your study and it’s likely, if you go on to a career in academia, that meetings will be a fact of life. As with anything these days however, there’s technology which can help you communicate and be more organised. So here’s my 5 steps towards better meetings – with an extra helping of apps!

Make sure you need a meeting in the first place

We have amazing technology in universities these days: email (as much as I hate it), instant messaging, phones, Twitter, Facebook. We do not lack ways of speaking to each other. Face to face meetings are good for discussing ideas, making decisions and talking things out – but should be saved for best so they don’t interrupt work too much. Weeks may go by when you have just been reading stuff and noodling around. If you are more or less happily immersed in your work, there may be little point in meeting with your supervisor in person. Write a short status report in email and ask them if they think anything warrants a face to face meeting.

There’s plenty of creative ways to share work in progress between, or instead of, having meetings. Sometimes you wont have writing to share, just a bunch of reading and notes as well as other cool stuff you have found. Consider using cloud databases for this – evernote is excellent for keeping track of web pages and photos of things (like the state of an experiment or something you have built), photos and audio notes. You can share the database with your supervisor; just tag stuff which might interest them so they can visit anytime and see bits of your work in progress. You can share and build bibliographies together in Mendeley and other cloud referencing apps. Photos can also be stored as a kind of journal / database using Tumblr - excellent for those in art and design disciplines. Other people I know keep a private blog, which they invite the supervisor to make comments on – great if you like to write in ‘chunks’.

Pick the right venue for the meeting

I never met my PhD supervisor outside of his office the whole time I was studying. I found this odd because with my masters supervisor it was entirely different. We were both working mothers and found it easier to meet in our respective homes, complete with our kids running about (sometimes naked except for their gumboots – don’t ask). Location just doesn’t matter to me, but clearly it did for my PhD supervisor. I’m sure part of the reason we were always so professional and polite with each other was that meeting was always on ‘work turf’. This set up boundaries, but useful ones – horses for courses as they say. There’s not really an app for that yet, but of course you don’t even have to leave your office for face to face meetings if you have Skype. If you do, check out the crowdsourced Thesis Whisperer map to thesis writer friendly cafes if you want to mix it up a little.

Be prepared

It goes without saying that if something has been circulated before a meeting your supervisor should endeavour to read it. Sometimes supervisors just can’t read it in detail because of the sheer amount of other reading that must be done (my ethics committee paperwork sometimes exceeds 700 pages…). If you want a deep reading, say so and, better still, highlight the areas you are worried about using the comments and highlighters in Word or the notes function in Scrivener. Alternatively you can try any number of shared document sites like Google Docs, a.nnotate or Freedcamp to work on documents collaboratively. I use ‘good reader’ to go through student work, which enables me to mark up and save PDFs on my ipad.

Make good records

Part of being prepared for a meeting with your supervisor is generating a list of questions or problems. Share this in advance of course and bring a copy to the meeting (if your supervisor is anything like me, they will forget to print it out). Make sure you have a good way of remembering the discussion and the decisions you make. Several of my friends have a light scribe pen, which allows you to touch the notes you have made and listen to what was being said while you wrote it. I always have technology envy when I see @scottmayson use this gadget, so I recently downloaded an app called ‘audio note’ that purports to do a similar thing (but I haven’t used it yet, so I can’t comment on its functionality).

Close the loop

The best way to record the outcomes of the meetings is to make a list of ‘action items’ and ‘items outstanding’ and circulate minutes to your supervisor and yourself containing these items. I use an ipad app called ‘errands’ for keeping track of things I said I would do for people – I like it because it’s really simple and pings at me when I forget stuff.

Occasionally I have been asked to help resolve disputes between supervisors and students. One thing I have noticed is that there’s a lot of “He said / she said” going on – people claiming something about the other person, usually with no evidence. Now please listen to Aunty Thesis Whisperer: I can’t stress enough the importance of making a note in your diary of the time and date of each and every supervision meeting, as well as an outline of what was discussed. There’s any number of online diaries for this purpose – you should automatically get a calendar with your uni email address. Never – ever – throw out a single peace of email or paper correspondence to do with your degree.

Have you got any good meeting related tips or technology you want to share? I’d love to hear more.

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PhD reputation

Yesterday I was hacked for the first time. I should preface this story by saying I know how to use protection, but this phishing attempt slipped right through my defenses. I clicked on the link contained in a message in my Twitter inbox because I trusted the person it came from, without reading the text which accompanied it. The link took me to a page that promptly crashed my browser. I couldn’t be bothered rebooting at 4:58pm, so I closed everything up and got on the tram home.

Fifteen minutes later people started messaging me on Twitter to say that I had sent them a message saying saying “ROFL this pic i found of you had me dying lol” and a dodgy link. I kicked myself, because if I had read the text properly I would never have clicked it. I have over 2000 followers now; that’s a lot of people sending me a ‘please explain’, but there was nothing I could do from my phone. I was forced to watch, helpless, as the spam hit person after person.

The feeling of violation was intense.

I am careful about how I conduct myself on Twitter; I aim at all times to be pleasant and helpful, so I was furious that this lowlife hacker was making me look like a jackass. I was so upset I got off a couple of stops early, ran inside and changed my password before I set off to the school to pick up Thesis Whisperer Jnr. Unfortunately I was angry, rushed and not thinking clearly. I made the new password so long and infinitely subtle that, of course, I forgot it immediately. I had to go through the whole password setting process again the next time I tried to log in, which only made me more angry.

Apart from wondering aloud in words not fit for print about why anyone would spend their time doing something so pointless, this whole incident made me think about the importance of trust and reputation, especially in scholarly life. If you think about it, the whole academic enterprise couldn’t exist without these two ingredients. Sure we pay lip service to being critical and replicating each other’s experiments, but we all know that not enough checking goes on. In fact, some have begun to wonder whether replication is really a way to be sure of anything (read this fascinating New Yorker article if you are interested).

When I was a PhD student I was constantly worried about validity and reliability. I was doing qualitative research and took great pains to try and hook people into helping me analyse my data. I convened workshops to show professionals and scholars my data, but the audience just looked puzzled. I made my research participants watch hours of video of themselves and asked them questions until one of them exclaimed: “I don’t know Inger, you are the researcher! You tell me!”. Realising I had tried everyone’s patience long enough, I wrote papers and presented them at prestigious conferences, hoping that someone in the audience would point out my mistakes. No one ever did. I don’t for a minute believe this was because my work was perfect.

I did all these procedures in a fruitless attempt to be sure I had it ‘right’. I’m sure there are similar symptoms of methods anxiety in all disciplines. After a time I started to get the creeping  suspicion that no one other than me really cared whether or not I got it right – even my supervisor. Privately I wondered whether they all believed me and my findings because I am such a self assured public speaker. I discussed my anxieties with my colleague Dr Robyn Barnacle, who pointed out that the whole PhD endeavour is underpinned by the myth of the solo, heroic, individual researcher. In reality, most of us don’t do our best work alone. Robyn’s explanation helped me to understand that, despite the fact I could never really carry the burden of proof alone, I must carry on through my doubts. The rest of my anxiety, no doubt, stemmed from a bad case of ‘impostor syndrome’, which is said to infect PhD students more than any other group.

But now I am a actually I doctor I wonder if we academics really are as critical as we should be. To be more specific – I wonder if that criticality is aimed in the right direction. After a certain level of competence has been demonstrated, I believe that most academics trust their colleagues to be ethical, upright people who are careful with data. Sure, we look for research design flaws and argue about theories, but no almost no one has the time to check your analysis.  It would too much time and effort, which needs to be spent on our own work. We just assume the analysis has been done properly – and go on to argue furiously about how we would have done it differently.

This is why reputation is so crucial within academic communities; doing a PhD is one way to put money in your reputation ‘bank’. I wonder if being embedded in this culture of trust, makes me – and all academics – hypersensitive about threats to my reputation.  In his interesting book, ‘The upside of irrationality’, Dan Ariely notes that revenge and trust are really two sides of the same coin.  Aiely does a series of experiments which demonstrate that humans will trust people they have never met, as my Twitter followers trust me to post interesting links, but that we have a deeply seated drive for vengeance if that trust is violated. If you believe the evolutionary biologists  (I find the literature compelling, despite the tendency for many of the writers to over simplify) we have a finely tuned ability to detect cheating. Society is orderly, so this theory goes, because most of us will seek to punish betrayal, even if we suffer some personal cost and loss to do so.

This probably explains why the very worst crime you can commit in academia is plagiarism. Words are our currency. When you commit plagiarism you are essentially stealing the building blocks of someone else’s reputation. Luckily for me, many of my Twitter followers quickly realised that words used in the dodgy link did not ‘sound’ like me. I hope this meant that most of them didn’t have to go through the infuriating process of changing all their passwords. If you did – my sincerest apologies and if I ever catch that hacker I will make sure vengeance is mine!

What do you do to protect your reputation? Has it ever been threatened?

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Card received circa April 2011

This post is written by Maia Sauren, a PhD student at RMIT  who will be doing a series on life immediately post PhD

I submitted my thesis. About three weeks ago. I still don’t quite believe it.

Hate me yet? I would. Every time a friend submitted theirs, I wanted to kill them. Or die. On the up side, it’s really possible! Until it was almost over, I didn’t think so.

I’ve been enrolled for many years, and finishing took all my reserves. Working part-time just wasn’t working for me, so I took out a loan. I developed a mild social phobia – the idea of talking about something other than THIS CHAPTER made me panic. I transcended the full gamut of emotions and sublimated them all into mania. I ate my body weight in nutella. I co-opted someone into formatting and called in friends to read drafts. I took far too many stimulants; I’m still paying the sleep debt.

A week after submitting, the numbness started wearing off, and another week after that I was still having nightmares about all the things I might’ve got wrong.

Don’t listen now in case I jinx it, but I think it looks great. I’m really proud of what I’ve done.

Some time ago, a person whose work I respect took me out for a coffee. He said he was impressed by my presentations at the last couple of conferences we’d both been at. he told me that, in his opinion, I was ready to submit and that I shouldn’t let myself be held back by lack of confidence.

I was a bit stunned. I didn’t feel like I knew what I was talking about. It took me another two years before I agreed with him. I knew lots of about my research – that is, the application of the principles, but not enough about the theoretical basics. It’s only in the last couple of months that I started feeling like a baby expert in my field. I  found myself writing the literature review as a story full of facts, and when I sent it to my supervisor it came back with only a few minor corrections. That’s when I knew I’d made it.

I have amazing friends

And now… well, what now? I have months to wait before I hear back. Who am I? What do I want to do? And just what kind of a person  takes this long to finish a project? 

I’ve defined myself as a student for so long, I’m not quite sure where to go from here.  It’s a bit like being a teenager again – somewhere between full of potential and just plain awkward. I’m bright and overeducated, I could do a mountain of different things, but I’m not sure which direction to push. I keep reminding myself that I’ve held lots of interesting jobs already, and getting a fabulous education means I have in fact started a career. I’m going to a conference next week and it’s the first time in years I’ll be without a vague sense of guilt and inadequacy.

My thesis is on an engineering/science topic but I don’t want to be an engineer or a scientist. I’m wondering if doing a Ph.D. was worth it, given I don’t want to be an academic.

I’ve learned more than you’d care to ask about a lot of technical topics. More importantly, I’ve learned a lot about myself and what I’m capable of. I viscerally understand the value of sticking to my guns, of removing my attachment to areas I want to pursue when I can see they’re fruitless, and of doing the hard slog even when it sucks. I also know that I can finish a huge project, and what that takes.

I don’t regret my choices, but I do wonder if these are all things I could have learned in less painful, and perhaps more lucrative, ways – like, say, having a job. I’ve come to think of a Ph.D. as something a person might choose to do if they already know a lot about their topic, rather than starting out in their career. It seems silly to go through a trial by fire for what is, for now, very little reward. I don’t regret my choices, completing a Ph.D. has been closely tied to my self-esteem. But knowing what I do now, I’m not sure I’d choose the same path given my time again.

I expect I’ll have a different view in another five years.

So what am I doing with my time now? Besides catching up with all the people I’ve avoided for months, you mean?

I’m freelancing the kinds of small jobs I did before submitting, I’ve registered with a contracting agency in the vague area I want to work in, and I’m google-stalking the people at next week’s conference. I’ve also started setting up coffee meetings with people who do interesting work, where I ask about how their job happens, and how happy they are with all the bits of it. In other words, I’m doing what has been recommended right here on this blog: I’m doing my research on the next bit. My brain is automatically geared towards assimilating information and having deadlines, so I’m using that to my advantage.

In this post you see a picture of the card my future self sent to me, some time in April. I think she wanted to help me imagine life post PhD. If you’ll excuse me, I have to save the space time continuum by going to write that card now! If your future self wrote you a card right now, what would it say?

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Careering through the PhD

This is the first guest post by Dr Shari Walsh from the Careers and Employment service at the Queensland University of Technology in Australia. Shari is one of a very small number of careers counsellors who specialises  in helping PhD students. Here Shari talks about the importance of developing a vision about your future career path, post PhD.

I have to admit that I really didn’t think much about my career when I started my PhD. My research degree wasn’t part of a big career plan, I simply loved my research topic and thought the lifestyle was pretty good. I realise this is a bit paradoxical given that I am now a Career Counselling specialising in career development for Postgraduate Research students!

Upon reflection though, I realise that I actually did do some form of career preparation and development during the degree. Things like tutoring, applying for and receiving a research grant, publishing, presenting at conferences and the like. These activities were primarily to set me up for an academic career so it was quite a shock when I realised I actually didn’t want to be an academic or researcher for the rest of my life.

Don’t get me wrong, I admire people who do these roles, I just realised that I didn’t want to be one of them. I studied my undergraduate degree to be a practitioner not an academic. And then I kind of stumbled into my current position where I can use my experience to help other postgraduate students to think outside the box and really identify what they want to do and how to go about it.

One thing I have realised in this role is that most postgraduates are totally unaware of their skill set and what they can do at the end of their research degree. It is very easy, like me, to get on the academic/research pathway and not take time to reflect if this is where you really want to be. I also notice that many postgraduates get disillusioned about the realities of post-doc life as they hadn’t researched or prepared for this inevitable occurrence. So, start thinking of your post-PhD pathway now. Here’s some ideas:

Take time to reflect on your career direction:

Rather than seeing reflection as an ‘extra’ activity that you will do if you get time, schedule it into your calendar. It is really disappointing for me when I have a client who has handed in their thesis for external examination and then arrives in my office saying – What’s next? Unfortunately, a job is not likely to just appear when you are ready – you need to do some preparation.

Identify your skills:

Do a formal activity such as a skills audit or brainstorm your skill set to identify the skills you have beyond research.

For instance, teamwork is a part of the PhD process as you work with a supervisor or two and most likely have interactions with other students and staff. In reality, a PhD is a massive learning curve in project management as you have to organise tasks, meet deadlines etc. Rather than simply seeing your activities as part of the research process, re-frame them as employability skills and change the language to build your understanding of how they will help you in the work environment.

Develop a vision:

I am not a huge believer in having a fixed career path. Difficulties arise if the end goal is not what is expected and often people with an absolute goal overlook exciting opportunities along the way.

Rather than having a fixed goal, develop a vision of what you want to do. What activities do you enjoy doing? Do you envisage working in a team or on your own? Do you want to a lot of interactions with people? Is money important? Understanding what you enjoy, what motivates you, and your values is an integral part of developing a vision. I used to do collages of my career vision and stick them up around my office to keep me motivated.

Ask for suggestions on what you could do:

What would your friends and colleagues suggest you do and why? The ‘why’ is very important as it reinforces our skill set and competencies. Often people see us in a different light to the way we see ourselves, their advice might be life changing, but:

Become your own person and decide your own pathway

Often students say that they have a strong sense of loyalty to their supervisor and they feel guilty if they decide they choose a different path.

I had a great supervisor. She had given me many opportunities to prepare for academia and it was a difficult decision to let this person, whom I admired, know that I didn’t want to become an academic (she took it very well and we still collaborate on some projects). However, in general, supervisors want the best for their students so let them know your thoughts.

Use your research skills:

Use your well developed research skills on yourself to research roles that interest you and to develop an understanding of the skills you already have that you would be beneficial in that role. Identify useful sources of information such as career and job seeking websites (e.g., This  website); regularly read the Higher Education section of The Australian and the professional section of The Weekend Australian; talk with people working in roles that interest you. Make sure you keep a record of what you discover.

See a Career Counsellor:

All universities offer a career counselling service. Make an appointment to discuss options and to have time and space to talk about where you want to go.

Finally, just like you are becoming an expert in your research field, you can also become an expert in your career. Be pro-active, get started now, and work towards obtaining a successful result. What are you doing now that you think will help you in your career goals post PhD?

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