Joshua Hughes is an AHRC funded PhD
student in Law at Lancaster University. In his guest post today, he reflects on
what doing a PhD actually means and considers two contrasting perceptions from
the “outside looking in”, concluding that perhaps people who are within
academia should not necessarily be narrowly defined in terms of their
job/pathway. If you would like to see more of what Joshua writes about, go and
check out his blog: https://lawofkillerrobots.wordpress.com/
and follow him on Twitter at: @JoshGHughes
Over Christmas
I was visiting my hometown. On two separate nights out I met some friends of
friends who asked me the typical question when meeting someone new: ‘What do you do?’ When I replied, ‘I’m doing a PhD’ a couple of people
asked me the same question: ‘What’s a
PhD?’ These separate conversations then went down very different routes
after I explained what it actually involves.
The first went
down the line of ‘wow, you must be so
smart. I couldn’t even imagine doing that.’ I don’t really know why this
is. I’m in the second year of my PhD and have never thought that I am
especially intelligent. Maybe doing well at undergrad and during a masters
means that you hang around with other high achievers, and so doing a PhD
doesn’t seem unusual – perhaps the adage that ‘you are the average of the five
people you spend the most time with’ holds true.
However, I
think anybody could do a PhD, in the same way that most runners will say anyone
can do a marathon. I think a lot of the time people don’t even realise that
they are limiting themselves. I remember being at school and only a handful of
people in my year were seriously considering jobs that even required a degree.
One of them wanted a job that might have required a doctorate: a marine
biologist. I think most people still limit themselves because they don’t think
they can do something that takes some intelligence – like I said, I don’t think
I’m that intelligent, I’m just a hard worker.
But then again,
we’re all hard workers, and everybody explores ideas that they are interested
in. One of the hardest workers I know is my barber. Every time I have my
haircut he talks at length about lots of ideas he’s been thinking about, which
are often brilliant insights. So if everyone is exploring ideas they are
interested in, perhaps it’s more that academics’ ideas are built upon a base of
knowledge that takes a long time to collect that makes it seem like a PhD is
unobtainable for most people. Plus, there is the aspect that the academy seems
like somewhere people don’t belong if they’re from a disadvantaged background.
But, talking to lots of PhD students, I think this is changing now.
The second
response to telling someone I do a PhD was ‘that’s
all we need, another student who thinks he’s an expert.’ I guess this is
partly due to the Michael Gove inspired Brexit-backlash against experts. Which
I get, I mean if you’re a Mail or Express reader who gets told daily that a
liberal elite of graduate ‘experts’ are out on some great project and don’t
care about you, you’d hate them too. But I think it also plays into an
anti-intellectualism that sounds exactly the same as it did in school. Remember
when mediocrity was cool?
I think this
anti-intellectualism is partly due to a hangover from the idea that academics
(and perhaps by extension, ‘experts’) are still enclosed in the ivory tower of
the academy, and don’t understand the general public. Perhaps this is slightly
true, after all there isn’t much cross-over between the minutiae an academic
considers in their research and what you might talk about in the pub (unless
maybe if it is a campus bar). However, everyone is an expert at their own work
role; is there really any cross-over with between pub-talk and the intricacies
of selling insurance, health and safety policy, or plumbing? No, there isn’t
really. So, if our expertise at work aren’t helping us socialise, what to do?
When
socialising, we don’t approach it with the same way we do at work, so why
should we answer the sociable question of ‘What
do you do?’ with the work answer of our job/study? Maybe we should consider
Tim
Ferris’ idea that we
are actually far more than our job, so why not answer with the thing we enjoy
doing the most? Whether windsurfing, car racing, painting, or reading, we make
connections with people based on commonalities, so why not present that first?
At the very least, it might avoid the preconception that you are a lofty and
arrogant academic!