One year in
Out of the blue I received an email asking if I’d be happy to mentor a new first year PhD student – clearly there has been some kind of mistake as I’ve only been doing a PhD myself for… oh yeah, it’s been a whole year, where did that go?
Time goes fast
Looking back over the last year has reminded me that everybody – absolutely everybody, in every level of every career that I’ve ever come across – is winging it. Yep, even those super clever academic types – they’re winging it too.
I was clueless when I started a PhD about what exactly it would involve, what would be expected of me, and what a ‘typical day’ would look like. I looked up to the people in their second and third year because clearly they had been at it for a while and must have it all worked out by now. Now I am in my second year and yep, still winging it, just like everybody else. Just like the people on their first day and the people with 20 years of experience.
Nobody has it all worked out and imposter syndrome is everywhere – people don’t just lack confidence about what they’re doing, sometimes they feel really out of their depth and nervous that they’ll be found out as being not good enough.
Me? A lecturer?
Now that I supposedly know more than I did last year, the university were happy to let me loose on some real-life students and do some teaching – which I was really pleased to be able to do, especially as it was the chance to teach on the Masters course which I completed many years ago. I’d get to meet the future versions of me!
You may have in mind a picture of what a university lecturer looks like… I don’t really fit that – for a start, I don’t own a tweed jacket with leather elbow patches. In fact, there was a bit of a mismatch in my mind about what a lecturer is, and who am I, and how those two ideas don’t really fit together (that’s cognitive dissonance if you fancy a bit of psychological jargon).
To me a lecturer is an expert in what they do, an experienced teacher, and they all seem very grown up.
Am I an expert? Of course not! I’ve only had a 10 year career in the topic that I’m teaching on… there must be somebody better.
Am I an experienced teacher? Definitely not. But I guess I can explain things like cognitive dissonance and imposter syndrome.
Am I a grown up? Turns out that one isn’t required, luckily, because I’ve met grown ups and have no ambition to be one.
Apparently I am qualified to be a lecturer, though it still sounds strange to me. After teaching for a semester, the thing I enjoyed most about it was the winging it – standing in front of people delivering a pre-prepared presentation was OK, but wasn’t what I enjoyed most. The good bit was when people asked questions, when they interacted, when I got to know them a little bit, and when I helped them to ‘get it’. It was when it all went a bit off-script that I enjoyed it the most and brought most value to the students.
I think being able to wing it is a good thing, it’s not unprofessional. You might prefer to use more ‘professional’ words if you like and think of it as a mixture of handling change, problem solving, creativity, innovation, decision making and resilience. There are simply times where you have no idea what you’re doing but you really need to work it out somehow.
The Master Plan
So… two years left (in theory) to get a PhD done.
Is there a master plan? Kind of.
Will I stick to it? Probably not.
Does that matter? I doubt it.
Will I end up juggling loads of other projects too? I hope so!
Will I end up winging it? Absolutely, just like everybody else, and it’ll all work out OK.
We’ve all seen those people that seem to be super successful and have it all worked out, all the time… they definitely don’t, they’re winging it too, just like you and me. Why pretend? Embrace the madness and wing your way through it.
What's it really like?
Before starting my little adventure, a few people told me it would be interesting to know what it’s like to do a PhD. I’m now three months in and have a much better idea of what it’s all about.
I’m very aware that I’m not having the ‘normal’ PhD experience having started during a pandemic. I always planned to be mostly home-based… but as it turns out, I’ve been to the uni for a total of 20 minutes so far, just to pick up my ID card.
When you don’t know what you don’t know.
For the first couple of months people would ask me ‘what’s it like doing a PhD?’ and I’d respond ‘Great!’.
I had no idea what I was talking about. Everything seemed great because I didn’t really know what was going on – it seemed that very little was expected of me except attend some online inductions and do a bit of reading around the topic of ‘creativity’.
I was in the position where I didn’t know what I didn’t know.
I couldn’t see the size of the challenges, because I didn’t have the awareness of where to look.
I was the clueless numpty that happily decided to climb a mountain at sunset in flip-flops – I knew the end destination would have a great view and there’d be some work to get there, but I had no idea exactly how to get there yet.
Now I’m getting it.
The instruction to ‘start reading a bit’ – that leads you to understand just how mahousive your topic is and how much you need to learn, before you have any chance of understanding how you can make a meaningful contribution to it.
And the few casual inductions? That’s you being introduced to all of the people who will kindly not laugh at your flip-flops, but gently encourage you to equip yourself properly for the challenge ahead. And nudge you back on the path if you get a bit wobbly.
I’m starting to understand the gaps in my knowledge – building an awareness of what I don’t know.
There’s a lot to know and a lot to write. But (at the moment) there’s a lot of time to do it in, so let’s not panic yet.
How does this mystical land of academia differ from the working world us mere mortals usually reside in?
In some ways it’s completely different. In others it’s exactly the same.
The main difference is the way of working.
Effectively I am on a fixed term, 3-4 year contract to complete a project. However, I have no boss, I work almost entirely independently, and very quickly I’ll have more in-depth and up-to-date knowledge on my chosen topic than anybody else. Everybody accepts that I’ve never done a project like this before, and never will again. Everyone is also absolutely fine with the fact that currently I don’t have the experience or expertise needed to complete the project, and as soon as I do, the project will be done and I’ll probably leave.
In the corporate world you just don’t hire inexperienced people, leave them to work alone, and accept that once they become really good at something, they’ll be gone.
The main similarity is that people are the key to it all.
Yes, I am surrounded by experts – but really, who isn’t? I now work in an environment where people are experts in extremely specific things which they write about in great depth for other people who are equally specialised. Sometimes they dumb it down a bit to explain things to other students or the general population.
At this point of my life, I honestly could not care less about fuzzy-set comparative qualitative analysis and its basis in Boolean algebraic logic. But I now know somebody who is interested in that, and that’s just lovely, should I ever find out that this knowledge will benefit my project, I know exactly who to talk to about it.
In most of our working lives there is somebody with a ‘specialism’ – we often call them champions to highlight their particular usefulness – the GDPR person, the Health and Safety person, the one who knows what your tax code means. Most people have no interest in these things, they know these topics are essential, and are grateful for the person who has it under control. Sales don’t understand marketing who don’t understand operations who don’t understand HR who don’t understand accounts. But we need them all.
Different environment, different specialisms.
But all simply people.
There is the same love of cake. The same endless chat about the British weather. The same shared lockdown boredom. The same stressing over whether you’re ‘good enough’.
I’m still working with humans, just different ones, in a slightly different context. Nothing mysterious about it.
Almost at the start line
The first of my PhD ramblings covered why I personally decided to do a PhD and the various things I needed to consider – career, motivation, financial impact, commitment. From the advice I’ve received, by far the biggest barrier to completing a PhD (and keeping your sanity) is motivation. So I think I wrote that first article more for myself than anything else, as a reminder of why I’m doing this in case I forget at any point in the future!
Who is in the dream team?
The dream team in any PhD line up involves, at an absolute minimum, 2 people.
One person to do all the work (ahem, me). And a supervisor – a seasoned pro of the academic world who has been there and done it, they are an expert in your chosen research area and will guide you through this adventure. I’m very lucky that my team has an additional supervisor, who (I think) will handle most of my ridiculous day-to-day questions and be entirely fed up with me after 3 years.
I also have a corporate sponsor in my team, in the shape of Creative Creatures.
This means 2 things – firstly, that they are mad enough to fund this adventure. But more importantly, that this investment is not just in me, but in their business as well. Everything I learn will be related back to the corporate world and put into practice with real clients. Without this element, I wouldn’t have agreed to do this – doing research for the sake of doing research just isn’t for me, I need to see this make a difference to actual humans and I’m very grateful to have a platform to do this.
How do you go about applying to do something like this?
I was very lucky to have a corporate sponsor and academic supervisor lined up, and we all already knew each other. From going through the application process, I can see it can absolutely be achieved without having those pre-existing relationships – it’s just more difficult.
You could search for an opportunity… PhD positions are advertised all the time, if you’re lucky, there will be one that fits what you’re interested in. You can apply like you would for any other job.
Or you could create an opportunity… come up with your own research topic and convince a supervisor that it’s a good idea to take you on. Pretty much the equivalent of turning up at someone’s office and convincing them to give you a job, in a role that doesn’t yet exist, because you just made it up.
What hoops do you need to jump through?
After making the decision to go ahead with it, I needed to go through the application process. This involves writing a 3,000 word proposal, outlining what you will be researching for the next 3 years.
3,000 words. To detail 3 years of full-time activity.
That’s 1,000 words to justify each full year of my academic existence.
I’ve written over 500 in this article already… words get used up fast.
Anyway, the rules are the rules. I wrote 3,000 words outlining exactly how I’d change the world in 3 years. Apparently this is entirely the wrong thing to do.
Unlike a corporate business proposal where people want to know specifics and timescales, academic proposals really seem to focus on how keen you are. The detailed plan isn’t required. You need to show you’re really passionate about a subject, that you’re willing to research it in great depth, and to criticise previous research suggesting how you could do it better.
I had no idea that the first YEAR of the PhD is reading?!? Reading and understanding where the world of science is up to, where the gaps in knowledge are, and what can be done to fill these gaps in a meaningful way. Then, after a YEAR of doing this, you then decide exactly what you’re going to do with the rest of your time. Mind blown.
Imagine if this was the way the corporate world worked… your proposal tells a client you’re really keen to work with them, and your first year of working with them will be to understand better. No visible output for them, no impact on the organisation, absolutely no tangible results, for a year. Wow.
But there you go, this is the way it works. It’s a big change from what I’ve been used to.
My proposal (after 3 drafts) was approved by my supervisor and submitted, with a follow up interview to seal the deal.
One month to go…
It’s now one month until the official start date. What does this mean? I have no idea!
In a ‘normal’ year you’d go to the university in person to register as a student, probably meet your supervisor and have people with clipboards trying to get you to join the frisbee society… will that be possible this year? Nobody knows yet. I’m not even sure I’m allowed to leave my house, I’m pretty sure visiting another city is way beyond the rules at this point.
We shall see! But if anything holds up my registration as a student, and therefore delays my student discount at Pizza Express and Cineworld, there will be trouble.
Why would anybody choose to do a PhD?
I’ve just come off the phone… we agreed that we should pursue a PhD project. I’ve agreed to fund the project and thought you might be interested in doing this.
A very small part of a very unexpected message, received whilst sat in my car, in the rain, after finishing work one day. What do you do when someone offers you the chance to do a PhD?
Why would anybody, especially me, choose to do a PhD?
To further their academic career? I don’t have an academic career to further.
To avoid getting a ‘real’ job? Nope, already settled in the corporate world.
To be called ‘Dr’? Well, that does sound nice, but it’s never been a goal of mine, I could happily live without it.
For me this decision would mean going back to University, back to the academic world after 10 years away, to commit to researching something in great detail for 3 solid years (at least). A commitment big enough that there’s no way I could keep my full-time job, I’d have to leave that… and the income from the PhD to replace my salary? That would be a little less than minimum wage.
How to decide?
One of the first things I did, was to ask other people what they thought… the responses I got were always passionate. But not unanimous. There was the fully positive ‘Yeah! Go for it, I’d love to do something like that!’, or the fully negative ‘God, no, I can think of nothing worse.’
Unfortunately, the negative crowd were the ones that had actually done a PhD themselves. So I couldn’t simply dismiss them as miserable buggers. Just asking them about it brought about a slightly vacant stare, like I’d taken them back to a darker place, their tone of voice changed, they’d seen the shadows and made it out the other side, vowing to never do anything like it again. The experience had changed them, they could call themselves ‘Dr’ now, but what kind of lasting effect had the process had on them?
Clearly I made the decision to go for it, otherwise this would be a very short and pretty pointless article. What did I need to consider, and what swayed the decision?
Going back to University after 10 years and starting again – really, I wouldn’t be starting again, I would be picking up where I left off. When I completed a Masters degree all those years ago, I got the opportunity to work with a brilliant creative consultancy called Creative Creatures… this was who the message was from at the start of this article… the PhD would give me the opportunity to work with this organisation again, along with the same academic supervisor at the same University. It’s really not new at all, I’ve just taken a (rather long) break from academic research.
Committing to something for a solid 3 years – well, if I couldn’t commit to something for 3 years of my life, I wouldn’t have managed 8 years in my previous corporate role, and erm, I’d have a few issues in my marriage too. I can do commitment.
Lack of income – I previously had a Head of L&D role, which was comfortable… I knew what I was doing, I knew the business inside out and had great relationships with my colleagues. It also paid the bills. But could that role provide the development opportunities and experience to equal a PhD? I don’t think it could, this was an opportunity that couldn’t be turned down and the gap in income would need to be addressed. A part-time job could do it, or maybe a self-employed role. Decided. I’ll be self-employed – stick to what I know without having to put anybody through the challenge of trying to manage me. A very supportive wife helps immensely in making this kind of decision!
Studying the same topic, with no variety, for at least three years – this is what seemed to pain the PhD veterans, the slog, finding the motivation 2 years after the initial optimism had faded. The part of my job I enjoyed the most, was the variety. It was in a consultancy, so having up to 40 different corporate clients to look after at any one time provided variety. The solution to this problem, was clearly to not lose this! Let’s give self-employment a go, and structure some corporate work around the demands of the PhD to help with bridging the gap on income, and also to fend off the guaranteed insanity a lack of variety would bring.
So that was all the objections handled, the sums were done, we wouldn’t lose our house, it all looked do-able.
What was left to decide?
The only decision left to make was around timing.
This offer appeared for me in late 2019, with the studying due to start in September 2020. I took the Christmas break to mull over all the options and decided that I’d leave my job at the end of January, giving me a good 8 months to firstly sleep (I had been lacking some rest in the corporate world), to work out this new self-employed malarkey, and also get through the necessary PhD application process… even when an offer lands in your lap, you still have to go through the application process. It takes months. More on that another day.
So that was that decided. It’s happening.
Why would anybody, especially me, choose to do a PhD?
What made me choose to do a PhD? To further my own development, to become an expert in a topic I’m passionate about, to surround myself with experts that inspire me, to achieve something big that I never thought I’d have the opportunity to do… and to take the hint that, despite the immediate financial hit, this is clearly the right time to set up as a consultant working for myself.
Everything was planned out… with just 6 weeks to go before an unexpected global pandemic.
When will things be back to normal?
There’s a lot of talk of normal at the moment – about things feeling ‘normal’ (or not!), about going ‘back to normal’, or looking ahead to the ‘new normal’. But what is normal anyway?
I get it, things are different, things are new, and things are changing. The default reaction to change is often a feeling of loss – you think of all the differences in terms of a loss of familiarity, security or comfort. Have you ever been in an office when the seating plan changes?! Wow. In reality, the same people are performing the same roles in the same organisation – but their seat has moved to a different desk. Full scale meltdowns have occurred… ‘but I’ve sat with Brenda for 16 years’, ‘I’m closer to / farther from the toilet/kitchen/printer/air con’, ‘it just feels different’. Very few people seem to view these kinds of changes as a positive, that leaving the ‘old’ way behind opens up an opportunity for something new which may well turn out to be better. That’s not anybody’s fault, it’s just the way humans work.
I think the same is going on now – changes have been forced upon us and many people are clinging to any sense of familiarity they have (to feel normal), looking for the old familiarity to return (going back to normal) or hoping that whatever happens next will in some way feel familiar (the new normal). Do we really want normal though? Just routine and ordinary? Something entirely familiar?
“The only thing that is constant is change.”
Time hasn’t stopped, we’re not in a situation where ‘normal’ has been paused and will resume again at some point. The world will not be identical again, and how could it be, that’d mean we’ve learned nothing over the last few months. Whatever your situation is right now, is your reality, and tomorrow’s reality may well be different again. It has always been like that, we’ve always adapted to our individual situation day by day, maybe it feels different in some way now due to the shared experience of so many people facing similar changes at the same time? We’ll all keep on adapting, that’s also the way humans work.
I wonder what things you should be proud of now given the circumstances you’ve already adapted to? And what brilliance have you been putting off because you’re waiting for the right time - waiting for ‘normal’ to return? We all plan to do things ‘one day’, maybe we shouldn’t be waiting for things to be back to normal first though, who knows what that means or when that may be.
What would you measure, if you could?
My career so far has been focused on specialising in what many people think of as ‘fluffy’ stuff. It’s all pretty difficult to measure.
Here’s a mish-mash of conversations that I’ve had many times, bundled together for dramatic effect…
You studied psychology? - Yes.
And that counts as science does it? - Yep.
But you don’t work in a lab, wear a white coat, or do ‘experiments’ every day? - No, I aim to understand how people think, learn and behave in workplace situations.
Hmmm, I’m not sure about that. But you work in training? - Yes.
Oh yeah I’ve done a health and safety course. - Ah that’s a little different to what I do… leadership development, helping people to be the best leaders and managers they can be.
Oh, I get it, team-building, climbing trees and building rafts, yeah? - Nope, more about communication, emotional intelligence, handling change and generally having more of a people focus.
Nah, you’ve lost me, we don’t so stuff like that, no time for it. - Hmmmm. Have you ever had a crap boss?
Oh yeah! Of course! Hasn’t everyone? - How about if that person communicated a little more clearly, understood the emotions and reactions of themselves and others a little better, could better deal with (and support you through) changes in the business, and genuinely cared more about people than profits? Think that might have helped?
Well yeah, that’s obvious… I probably would have worked harder / cared more / not left the business if my boss was like that.
Now you get it.
The things that are hard to measure, make a difference to real people. And surely an organisation is just a collection of people, so let's focus on them.
Measuring ‘success’ is seen as pretty straightforward in many organisations – whether that be profits, share price, growth, contracts won, sales completed, calls made, customer served, toilets cleaned, or productivity in terms of making x number of thingamabobs every day.
Measuring the success of leadership development is often then explored in these terms too. If we develop our leaders, will our profits go up? Will people be more engaged and be more productive? Will our staff stop leaving and therefore reduce our recruitment costs?
Well, nobody can guarantee any of those things, there are far too many other factors which could influence them. However, it’s estimated that up to 80% of staff turnover can be attributed to factors within their manager’s control*, so imagine you start keeping your best people for a little longer and the organisation was a place that people are proud to be from** based on the way they are valued and managed.
I think that’d be a pretty good start to achieving any metric you choose to measure.
So, what would I measure if I could?
I would have a gadget that I could point at somebody’s forehead which tells me an absolutely certain non-fluffy score (out of 100?) of how much they value other people.
Putting people with a high score on that measure into leadership positions would undoubtedly make the world of work a better place to be in – people would have leaders they wanted to work for, that cared about them, supported them and ultimately helped them to perform to their very best. Your organisation would be somewhere you were proud to be from.
But until I invent that gadget, I’ll just carry on doing the ‘fluffy’ stuff.
What would you measure if you could?
*(from Marcus Buckingham’s book ‘First, Break All the Rules’)
**(concept from Patty McCord’s book ‘Powerful’)
The advice you give is actually really good… follow it
What is the most recent piece of advice you gave somebody?
We are constantly giving advice, we can’t help it, as humans we are social problem-fixing machines.
“Don’t worry about it”
“Don’t work all night”
“It’ll still be there in the morning”
“Look after yourself”
“Make sure you switch off”
“Don’t take on too much”
“You should go home”
“Take it easy”
Any of those sound familiar? Whether you’re a manager, leader, colleague, partner, family member, or friend – chances are you’ve handed out a few of these with genuinely good intentions.
I bet you’ve been on the receiving end of some of these too… and what did you do with all that well-intentioned advice from those caring people with opinions you value? Well, you acted on their advice didn’t you - you left the office instantly, completely erased any trace of unproductive thoughts from your consciousness, and embarked on a wellness regime to fully optimise your physical and mental health ready to tackle the next day in prime condition.
Of course, you didn’t. Nobody does.
There’s always a reason not to - one more thing you need to get done, one long shift will make the rest of the week easier, one more deadline to hit.
I recently changed my way of working – I stopped being a typical ‘full time office-based’ person. I’m very lucky to have been able to take the time to really consider how I do what I do. The differences for me have been huge, and not without challenges, but positive overall – I’m finally following the advice I’ve been giving for years.
On reflection, all of the genuinely well-intentioned advice I had received over the years was brilliant and I could have made all of those changes a long time ago – but I was too busy advising other people, or simply busy being busy.
So, what is the most recent piece of advice you gave somebody?
Are you going to follow it yourself?
It might just make a difference.