The angst of the long-distance scholar

Many scholars face pressure from their academic employers to conduct and publish research. Is the pressure of publishing getting to you? If so, you aren’t alone. Writing and publishing is hard work. It’s like running a marathon, all alone, with no map. The task requires time, energy, and concentration, things many of us don’t have a lot of right now when the world seems so precarious. It’s no wonder sometimes people look for the easier softer way.

Last week I received an email. This exchange ensued. (“Sir” refers to me.)

Dear Sir. I hope you are all right. I just got my M.Phil and would like to convert it to a research article and get it published. Please guide. Regards.

My first thought was, oh, great! Here is a young scholar (I presume the scholar is young; I think it is a safe bet; anyone under sixty is young to me) who wants career advancement and needs my help. Possibly English is not this person’s first language. I need to pull out my culturally sensitive hat. It’s around here somewhere. As I’m rummaging in my mental closet, in a back corner I’m thinking, I wonder how this person found me? I’m definitely not at the top of a Google search. Still, wanting to be helpful, I shoot back a perky reply with some questions to prompt more information and establish a rapport:

Dear Regards. Congratulations on your academic accomplishment. Turning a dissertation or thesis into a journal article is a logical next step. Would you like to share some more about your project? I’m wondering a few things. Where are you? Where did you study? What was your thesis topic? What aspects of the thesis do you think would make good articles? What do you want from me? How can I help? If you can respond with answers to those questions, then we can talk about what to do next. Thanks, Dr. Carol

Almost immediately, I receive the following response:

Dear Sir. Salaam. I am from Pakistan. I did my M.Phil in [Interesting Education Field] at [Name of University]. My topic was [Interesting Topic Related to Students] of [College] in Pakistan. Regards.

Ooh, fun, I think to myself. Something interesting to read and discuss. I wonder how I can help. But I need more information to really get my head around this project. It’s possible that . . . no, I don’t want to think that thought yet. We’ll see what happens. I send off the following somewhat lengthy, totally nosy reply:

Dear Regards. Thank you for sharing a bit about you and your project. A few more questions: Do you have some ideas about what direction an article might take? Journal articles usually take just one aspect of the thesis. Have you worked with an editor before? What is your expectation? What do you specifically need to do next? Do you have something to edit? Have you written an outline of a possible article? Are you looking for coaching? How do you think I could help? Are you comfortable working with someone who is in a different country, with different time zone and currency? Are you comfortable with PayPal? The more specific you are on what you need, the better I can assess if I am able to help you. Thanks, Dr. Carol

Within hours, I receive this:

Dear Sir. I want to convert my thesis into publishable article. I will attach my thesis. Regards.

It’s not surprising the scholar took one look at my barrage of questions, which Google Translate probably butchered, and now can’t think of anything to say except to reiterate the goal, attach the paper, and hope for the best. However, I’m seeing red flags a-rising. Now the hazy edges are starting to come clear. Instead of answering my many valuable and pertinent questions, the scholar is laser-focused on the mission: getting that thing published. I begin to see the true nature of the “project.” Perfectly willing to be smacked down via email, I grit my teeth and send the following:

Dear Regards. Please help me get some clarity on your objective. Do you want me to write an article, based on your thesis? Thanks, Dr. Carol

The answer couldn’t be more clear:

Dear Sir. Yes sir. Regards.

Some hours elapse as I plan my approach. As you can imagine, I have a range of feelings now that I have learned the scholar wants me as a partner in a nefarious cheating scheme. First, I’m outraged, shocked, I tell you, shocked. The nerve! It’s not like I’m a saint, but I was seven and it was arithmetic, I mean, I ask you. However, as an adult scholar with a published dissertation, I certainly did not cheat, obfuscate, plagiarize, fabricate, falsify, or otherwise avoid doing the often-tedious chore of conducting original research, no matter how tired and defeated I felt. Somewhere during my life, I developed integrity.

After enjoying my righteous outrage, my next reaction was compassion. Oh, the poor scholar. I know how hard it is to write. Even for me, except for blogposts, most writing assignments don’t come easy. Let’s see, how can I weasel out of this situation without causing harm or insult? I wrote,

Dear Regards. Thank you. Now I understand. Thank you for clarifying your objective. I’m sorry to say, I would not be capable of writing an article for you. I am not that kind of writer. I don’t write content, I only edit content. That means I edit papers that other people write. I’m sorry it took so long for me to understand. Good luck to you. I hope you find a good writer for your project. Take care, be safe. Thanks, Dr. Carol

Fingers crossed, I say a prayer to Dr. Diss, the patron saint of scholars (just made that up). Let’s hope my scholar friend gets the hint and lets this conversation fade. Nope. One more email:

Dear Sir. Thank you for your response. Is there any one in your contacts to do it for me. Regards.

Okay. Now I need to come clean with my correspondent. I don’t want to give this person the impression that (a) it’s okay to ask editors to write scholarly content, (b) that people do this all the time, (c) that I have friends who will ghostwrite an article, and (d) probably most important, that I won’t write the article because I’m not competent enough to do it. Sadly, I suspect this kind of scholarly cheating happens frequently. Most of us have our price. I’ve never done it. I wonder how much it would take to motivate me to cheat. Hmm. Let me give that some thought.

Blogpost on cheating

I pull up my big dissertator britches, limber up my digits, and let my correspondent have it:

Dear Regards. I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone who would write an article for you. You are the expert on your topic so you are the one best able to choose what angle of your thesis topic would make a good article. I would imagine several topics could come out of your thesis. Think about your long-term career direction when you consider which topics to focus on. I’m going to be honest with you. Paying someone else to do your writing for you is not good scholarship. I could not in good conscience help you with that. As scholars, we succeed on our own merits. Editing is different from writing. Writing is tough sometimes. But that is the job of being a scholar. I encourage you to write an outline and a draft of an article and THEN send it to someone to edit. I’m semi-retired, so I’m not doing much editing these days. There are many editing companies that could help. Good luck to you. Thanks, Dr. Carol

And the final response:

Dear Sir. Thank you for your elaborate response. I will try but too much over work. Sir, from which you belong. Regards.

I could have added one last snarky parting shot: Hey, I took the trouble to look up your first name to discover your likely gender; did you do as much for me? No. Well, it’s not the first time I’ve been called “sir.”

So much for rapport. I get it. This poor scholar is probably dealing with COVID fears, homeschooling, and boredom—and now, the pressure of publishing! It’s too much. No argument from me. I am settling my compassion hat more firmly on my head. We all need more compassion right now.

Still, there’s no excuse for bad scholarship, cheating, or plagiarism. Giving in to those temptations might relieve short-term pressure but will not help anyone in the long run. Winning the long game of academia requires willingness, integrity, and grit. Yes, it’s hard during a pandemic, but writing is hard, pandemic or not. Don’t waste this terrible but uniquely precious creative time. The world needs your research!

Getting help or going it alone: The lonely decision of the non-traditional dissertator

So far, I haven’t seen a book that addresses the plight of the dissertator who attends an online program or a for-profit university (or both, as I did). The nontraditional graduate experience is not the same as the traditional face-to-face graduate experience.

I described my experience of being a nontraditional graduate student in this blog post:

Some dissertators at my alma mater hired editors and coaches to help them complete their Ph.D. journey. While I was still struggling by myself in my dark dismal corner, I would read notes my fellow learners had left in the discussion folders. They effusively praised Dr. So-and-So for helping them get their proposals approved, even when the ink on Dr. So-and-So’s diploma was barely dry. I had mixed feelings about the idea of getting outside help.

For some of us, the prospect of getting help comes as a huge relief. For others, getting help seems like the worst form of giving up. Where are you on that continuum? And why do you believe what you believe? Now is the time to examine your own beliefs about getting help. Complete the following sentences:

Getting editing or coaching help is ____________________________________________

When I think of getting help, I feel ____________________________________________

People who get help are ___________________________________________________

Editors are ____________________________________________________________

People who hire editors think _______________________________________________

Dissertation coaches are ___________________________________________________

If other people found out I hired an editor or a coach, they would think that I _______________

There are no wrong answers. This isn’t a test, people. If you answered without overthinking it, maybe you now have some insight into how you perceive the question of whether to hire an editor and/or a coach.

Early on, I chose not to hire an editor. That means no one reviewed my work except my Chair and Committee member before it was submitted to the Graduate School. All the errors (and there are many) are therefore mine and mine alone. My rationale was that I wanted to be as sure as I could be that the work accurately represented my writing and research skills. I wanted to earn my place among the big dogs (or at least the mid-sized poodles) fair and square. Especially in light of the fact that I attended a for-profit institution, I felt the integrity of the entire process was at stake.

What it’s like to be a nontraditional learner at a for-profit university

Now that I’m on the editor’s side of the desk, I continue to have some misgivings about the use of editors. Sometimes I believe hiring an editor is the right choice, for example, when a dissertator’s first language is not English. If the dissertator’s ideas are doctoral-worthy but his or her grammar skills are lacking, I support the use of an editor, as long as the editor is able to accurately decipher the dissertator’s statements and translate them into correct academic English. If the statements are impossible to translate, then you can’t expect the editor to know if the writer’s ideas are doctoral-worthy or not.

On the other hand, if a dissertator’s ideas lack cohesion and logic, if the research problem and purpose are not clearly identified, if the research methodology and methods are unstated, not clearly stated, or inappropriate, then I think using an editor can camouflage the fact that the dissertator may not ready yet to advance to the dissertation level. You may ask, Am I nuts? I suppose if everyone agreed with me, I’d have a lot less editing work. But from an ethical point of view, I am expressing a concern: Some of the proposals I edit need a lot more than just copy editing. However, people don’t pay me to tell them that I think they aren’t ready for doctoral-level work; they pay me to edit their papers and make them look like they are ready for doctoral-level work. What’s a poor editor to do?

This situation reminds me of the hundreds of résumés I read for career-college students who could barely form complete sentences. My editing made them look like communications superstars on paper. I cringe when I think of how many of my former students probably closed their interviews by cheerily asking, “So, when are you going to make your guyses hiring decision?” Sigh.

I usually get editing jobs through an editing agency, so I see only a small part of each dissertator’s journey. I usually don’t know how much feedback the dissertator has received previously from his or her Chair or Committee. Sometimes, though, I see drafts with the Chair’s comments. Occasionally, the comments are extensive, thoughtful, explicit, and helpful. Yay. More often, the comments are tentative, sparse, terse, vague, and not helpful. In those cases, I feel compelled to offer what assistance I can to point some of these floundering dissertators toward shore.

Thus, when I edit a paper, I am performing the work of the Chair, without having the advantage of interaction with the dissertator. The most difficult decision people face is choosing methodology and methods. Multiple possibilities confound the dissertator’s overworked brain. I can almost hear the wheels spinning: Should I choose a qualitative design? Should I do a survey? Oh wait, maybe it is a case study?

What do you want from a dissertation coach?

Without knowing the dissertator’s objectives and disposition, I can only offer suggestions and point out options. However, as an editor, I can’t offer ongoing support after the dissertator chooses a survey method over an interview method. I hope my book might fill in some of the gaps for dissertators who struggle with unhelpful Chairs and Committees.

Back to the question, Should you get help or go it alone? The answer, as usual, is—it depends. Only you can decide. The best suggestion I can offer you is, Dissertator, know thyself. That means making a clear-eyed assessment of your skills and aptitudes. Take the Doctoral Readiness Survey. In particular, get some feedback on your writing skills from someone who already has some writing skills.

No worries. Either path you choose—whether you get help or go it alone—will teach you some interesting things about life and your place in it.

If you like to learn by reading, looking at diagrams, and hearing about other dissertators’ experiences, maybe my book can help.

Are you ready for doctoral-level work? Take this survey and find out

Rate yourself honestly on the following attributes, using a scale of 1 to 5, where one means “weak” and 5 means “strong.” How strong is/are your…   (mark “DK” if you don’t know).

Writing skills
MS Word skills
Computer skills
Mastery of English language
Mastery of style guide
Interpersonal skills
Motivation to do the work
Ability to learn on your own
Understanding of program standards
Understanding of the doctoral process
Love for learning
Love for research process

Scoring is simple. Just add up all the scores.

How did you do? Are you ready?

Over 36: you are ready. Congratulations… I think.
25 to 36: you might be ready. But then again…
24 or less: you aren’t ready… yet. Sorry!

Don’t feel bad if your score is lower than you might like. No matter what this little scoring rubric says, you are going to forge ahead if you really want to get your Ph.D.

People tried to talk me out of going to graduate school (“It’s so expensive,” and “Wait until you have more time”), but I was determined to  succeed. I applied, was accepted, and the rest is the eight-year saga of my doctoral journey.

Here’s to stubborn, self-willed persistent dissertators!

Earning a doctorate is not for everyone. It’s not easy, it takes a long time, it costs a lot of money, and it may not help you achieve your career objectives. If you find yourself flagging, here are some obstacles that might be getting in your way.

  • Underdeveloped study skills
  • Lack of organization
  • Lack of computer/Internet skills
  • Time and money constraints
  • Lack of support
  • Lack of confidence
  • Unrealistic assumptions
  • Sense of entitlement

No matter what your field, methodology, or theory, no matter what kind of institution you are attending, one thing that all dissertators have in common is that they need to get their dissertation proposal approved before they can move on and earn their Ph.D. If you need help, let me know.

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