Back in March of 2012, when I was working on my dissertation
proposal, I frequently wondered if I was going to survive writing my
dissertation. When people asked me how things were going, I used words like fiasco. Debacle. Nightmare. Train wreck. I was just beginning to
understand the true meaning of the phrase terminal
degree. The terminal degree is the one that makes us stronger—unless it
kills us first. The dissertation journey is not for the faint-hearted. However,
if you are working on your dissertation right now, take heart: You can survive
this. I learned three valuable lessons from my dissertation journey. I share
them with you.
1. Don’t worry if you can’t remember everything
I enrolled in an online doctoral program at a tiny
for-profit research university in December of 2005. By 2012, I had written
hundreds of papers, large and small, and read a thousand articles by hundreds
of scholars. I had valiantly completed and submitted umpteen assignments to
dozens of faceless mentors in scads of virtual course rooms. Like the shelves
in my basement, my 56-year-old brain was crammed with poorly packed, improperly
labeled knowledge. Almost as fast as I learned it, I’d forgotten most of what I
had learned.
Knowledge evolves. Knowledge waits for no one, especially
not tired dissertators. Ninety-nine percent of the course assignments I
completed were based on obsolete textbooks and five-year-old journal articles. New
theories, methods, and technologies were constantly emerging (e.g., e-commerce).
In addition, because it was the 2000s and not the 2010s, much now-essential knowledge
was missing from my marketing curriculum (e.g., social media).
Knowledge is obsolete before it is published. In that sense,
acquiring book knowledge is like buying a new car: Knowledge loses at least
half its value the moment we exit the course room. A newer shinier bit of
knowledge is always glittering around the next corner. Eventually we discover earning
a doctorate is not about acquiring knowledge. It never was. I don’t bother
trying to retrieve things I “learned” during my course assignments. It’s like expecting
new-car smell when I get into my old Ford Focus.
2. You can succeed with mediocre research and writing skills
You don’t need to be a great researcher or writer. I thought
I did. In fact, I thought I was. Even as I was studying obsolete topics such as
e-commerce and Maslow’s hierarchy of needs theory, I consoled myself with a
belief that I was honing my research and writing skills. I admit, I’ve always
been a little smug about my ability to find and describe arcane stuff about
which nobody cares.
Modern academics don’t need research skills. We have Google.
We don’t need writing skills. We have Grammarly. Moreover, the gatekeepers who
approve dissertation proposals and manuscripts seem to focus more on adherence
to templates and formats than they do on content and scholarly excellence. Of
course, I’m biased by an information deficit: as an editor, I see only a tiny
fraction of the social science dissertations trickling out of U.S. higher
education institutions.
To broaden my perspective, I study published dissertators to understand what they did to succeed (i.e., what they got away with); then I write books to help dissertators who are struggling to get approvals. My intention is to reassure you that research and writing can be much less daunting than you anticipated or feared.
You might be pleased to know I’ve seen many errors, large
and small, in published dissertations. I’m trained to catch format and style
errors so of course I see those. However, every now and then, I’ll run across
text like this: [expand on this section]. Just like that—an insertion of a
direction to the dissertator to do something before submitting. Clearly, sometimes
dissertators (and their reviewers) fail to catch and remove embarrassing text; thus,
these errors become a permanent part of the academic record. Just as all my
incorrect dois are captured for posterity in ProQuest Open Access. Hey, it
happens. In my case, happened. I
can’t go back and change the past.
3. You will learn how to survive
Long after it was too late for me to quit on my
dissertation, I had the disheartening realization that when I finished this
degree, I would have a smattering of mostly useless knowledge and lots of
practice researching and writing on a topic few people cared much about,
including me. Was that it, I wondered, after six years and $42,000?
Pursuing a doctorate is about developing survival skills.
That sounds melodramatic, doesn’t it? What kinds of dangers could possibly
threaten a doctoral candidate? It’s not as if we are lost in the woods.
The dangers that threaten us are the internal monsters that
lurk in our minds: boredom, doubt, anguish, impatience, resentment, and
despair, to name a few. I’m sure there are more. Like sturgeon, we will survive
by settling for good enough instead of aiming for perfection.
Pursuing a doctoral degree is like giving our internal
saboteurs a grenade launcher and hanging a target on our back. Now I understand
why so few people seek doctorates. Not every crosses the finish line. Those who
do share a special bond—a unique form of misery that gradually transforms into
a triumph unlike any other.
Summary
Don’t worry if you forget most of what you learned. If your research
and writing skills aren’t perfect, don’t fret. You are learning how to survive
the pitfalls of the dissertation journey. Once you cross the finish line, you
will realize you now know the secret to overcoming just about any challenge:
Show up, do your best, and don’t give up.
The final milestone of our dissertation journey is our
dissertation defense. Most of us must prepare some sort of presentation to
defend what is likely the largest research project of our lives thus far. Are
you wondering when you should start thinking of your defense? The answer is now!
In this blog post, I present a few tips to help you defend your
defense successfully. First, I encourage you to start with the end in mind.
Next, identify your potential audiences. Figure out the requirements and
assemble your tools. Finally, visualize your success. As I discuss these tips,
I describe my own sweaty defense experience, which happened on a conference
call.
Start with the end in mind
Making choices with the end in mind at the beginning of our
dissertation program can help us justify and defend our decisions when we get
to the finish line.
Even if we are just starting our journey, it’s not too soon
to start picturing how we will defend our choices. Why did we choose the topic?
Why did we choose to study the topic in this place, with these subjects, using
this theory and this method? What kinds of findings could we anticipate, and to
what conclusions could they lead? What could practitioners do with our findings
and conclusions?
When I was struggling to reach the milestones of my Ph.D.
program—writing the concept paper and the dissertation proposal, collecting and
analyzing the data, and writing the dissertation manuscript—it never occurred
to me to think about the final milestone, my defense. In the last two months of
my program, I was working on my manuscript and my defense simultaneously.
After so many years working alone, the thought of presenting my findings to a wider audience was intimidating. If I had kept the end in mind from the beginning, discussing my study with so little time to prepare wouldn’t have been so fraught.
Identify your audiences
We all know we should identify our audiences before we give
our presentation, if we want to optimize our communication efforts.
Toastmasters learn this. Teachers learn this, sometimes the hard way.
Few things are more embarrassing than going through our
entire presentation, only to find out most of the audience had zero interest in
the topic. I witnessed this error recently at a professional development
workshop I attended on improving student engagement. The presenter assumed we
were all traditional faculty, constrained by grades, attendance records, and
bored students. Actually, we all taught in the community education program—no
grades, no attendance sheets, and no bored students. If the presenter had asked
a few simple questions up front, she would have probably chosen to shift the
focus of her discussion to address our specific needs.
For dissertators, we know our committee will attend our defense. Will we have others in our audience? Dissertation defenses aren’t typically open to the public, but members of the academy are often welcome and invited to attend. That means other faculty, administrators, and fellow students might be present. Are they practitioners? Are they doctoral students wanting to learn from watching a peer?
At my school, all the defenses for the week appeared on the
student portal. Anyone attending the university could download my PowerPoint file
and dial into my defense conference call with the passcode. Knowing faceless
strangers could listen in and comment gave me some nervous flutters.
At the time, I was certain of only two people on the line—my
Chair and my committee member. I don’t know how many people were actually on
the call. Only a few, I think, judging by the dead silence when my Chair asked
if anyone had any questions for me. Later, a fellow dissertator emailed me to
let me know she had dialed in silently to listen and learn.
This adventure occurred in 2013, before we all became old hands at muting ourselves on conference call lines. As the dissertator, I did not have access to the conference call moderator tools, and I’m not sure my Chair did, either. Her skill and ease with conference call technology seemed low. Still, we fumbled through the process. The call wasn’t dropped, even when she asked me to hang up and dial in again in five minutes to learn my fate. I assume all those silent lurkers on the call were present to the discussion regarding my merits, while I sweated in anticipation with my proctor, who was hopeful on my behalf, and my cat, who slept through the whole thing.
Learn the requirements and assemble your tools
What our actual defense will look like depends on our field
and institution; however, most dissertators must meet certain requirements
related to format and content. Designing the defense is an iterative process,
much like writing the dissertation itself. We propose some designs and outlines
and revise several times with our Committee members’ feedback. Designing the
presentation depends on several factors.
Platform. Will your defense occur in person or virtually? The defense may take place in a classroom at your school, where your audience is in the room with you. Alternatively, the defense may happen in a virtual meeting space—for example, participants may dial into a telephone conference call, join a web conference on their computers or phones, or join using Skype, Wire, Facetime, Google Hangouts, or something similar.
You may be responsible for arranging the technology
necessary to show your PowerPoint slides and be able to hear and see your
committee reviewers; however, most institutions have the technology in place. For
in-person presentations, most modern classrooms are equipped with computers,
projectors, and screens. For a virtual defense, most institutions maintain
conference call or web platforms and give participants the passcodes to join
the defense space.
I earned my degree from an online university. Web platforms
weren’t common in 2013. That means I defended my dissertation on a conference
call in my apartment. It was an early December evening, dark and dreary. Other
than my teacher-friend proctor, I was alone and invisible; my audience was
faceless. As I spoke into my phone, I worried repeatedly that the call had been
dropped, leaving me speaking to dead air.
According to a current student, the school has started using a web conferencing platform so dissertators can more easily present their slide decks; however, I don’t think video is involved, mainly because of the difficulties of showing participants’ faces in addition to the slides.
Asking participants to download and navigate web conference platforms can be problematic: Audience members’ expertise with different platforms will vary on a continuum from expert to incompetent. With a web conference platform, participants will hear the moderator (your Chair) and you; they may not be able to speak and be heard, though. Instead, they may have to “raise their hand” virtually to ask their questions. My guess is institutional leaders opt for the simplest method available that will accomplish the goal.
Format. Will you need a PowerPoint slide show? Most dissertators need some visual aids. Audiences are used to seeing information presented using PowerPoint or some other type of presentation software. Using the slides, we walk our audience through the main points of our study.
Take a look at my PowerPoint. This is a pdf file.
I’m relatively skilled at PowerPoint, so that part wasn’t too scary. My challenge was adapting my design style to the color constraints of the university’s PowerPoint template. I show a sample slide from my PowerPoint below.
The main pitfall for most presenters is overloading the
slides with information. Simple bullet points work best. Fill in the details
verbally. I used photos and images from my findings. (Some of the data I
collected consisted of “rich pictures,” perfect for presenting visually with
PowerPoint.)
Timing. How much
time will you have to present? My Chair’s main concern was that I not talk too
long. I had a maximum of thirty minutes to present, and twenty-five minutes,
she said, was better.
To adhere to that agenda, I wrote out my script for each
slide and recorded myself reading my script, timing each section. I averaged
about a minute per slide. Some slides held more information, some less.
Including the title slide and the closing slide showing the few sources cited
in the presentation, I presented twenty-six slides in twenty-five minutes.
What happens if you exceed the time allotted? To scare me,
my Chair told me stories of reviewers who cut off dissertators mid-sentence
because they lollygagged through their slides. I understand: The reviewers need
time to ask us questions. Sharing our research findings in a fancy slide show
is fun, but the point of the defense is to defend our study to our reviewers.
Photos. My
dissertation happened to include visual data, which was perfect for a slide
show. I incorporated other photos as well, to break up the bullet points and
give the viewers something to look at while they listened to me talk.
Outline. The
content of the slides typically follow the outline of the dissertation itself.
Your outline will vary depending on your field and institution. My dissertation
was a traditional five chapter document, consisting of Introduction, Literature
Review, Methodology, Findings, and Conclusions. My slide outline closely
mirrored those elements.
Questions. My
Chair gave me a list of typical questions I might be asked. I Googled defense questions to see what was
floating out there in the zeitgeist. That was intimidating. In addition, I
dialed into a dissertator’s defense to get a feel for the process and visualize
my own experience. I wrote out answers to what I imagined would be the most
common defense questions.
I did not record my actual defense, although it’s possible
the conference call software did “for quality assurance purposes.” Or not. I
don’t have a recollection now of what my Chair and committee member asked me,
other than the question I flubbed: “Tell us in one sentence what your study was
about.” I couldn’t do it in one sentence under pressure. Other questions I
prepared to answer included:
What was most challenging?
How generalizable are your findings?
What will you do with the findings to make a difference?
What advice would you give a student who is starting the dissertation process and considering using the methodology you used?
If you had to do it over, what would you change?
Practice your presentation
I didn’t automate the slides because on the conference call
platform, the participants in the call were viewing a downloaded version of the
PowerPoint on their own computers. I verbally told them when to advance to the
next slide, but I had no control over their ability to follow my direction. As
I mentioned, I wrote out my script and recorded myself to get a sense of the
timing and pacing.
Listening to recordings of our own presentations can be
humbling, but this step is so helpful, once we get over our distaste at hearing
our own voices. I’m not enamored with the sound of my own voice, but I learned
long ago to get over myself and focus on communicating my message to the
audience.
Finally, visualize success
Olympic athletes employ visualization and imagery to prepare for success. Dissertators can do the same thing. What does success look like for you? If you followed the tips in this blog post, you have a good sense of what to expect and how to prepare for your defense. The final step is to imagine defending successfully without melting down in a panic attack or throwing up behind the lectern.
Visualize yourself in the setting, performing effectively,
receiving approval, and earning your degree. Practice this mental exercise daily.
Conjure as much detail as you can. If you have access to the classroom or
auditorium where your in-person defense will occur, stand on the stage or
podium. Practice delivering your presentation, using your visual aids.
If you are defending in the virtual space, download the web
conference software ahead of time, make sure you have all updates installed,
and open the platform to see how it works. Sit in on other defenses and imagine
it’s you clicking the slides, describing your study, and fielding questions.
Summary
No matter where we are in our dissertation journey, it’s
never too soon to plan for our dissertation defense. Begin with the end in
mind, do your homework, and visualize success. Then get a good night’s sleep,
show up, and do your best. You got this! No one knows your study better than
you.
Have heard your dissertation chair say, “Good is the enemy
of the best,” and taken that as an exhortation to settle for nothing less than
perfection? Such statements don’t usually improve our performance. Perfection is
a high bar not easily defined let alone achieved. Can you claim to have
achieved perfection? Sometimes I thought I wrote something that was perfect,
but even a few hours later, I discovered typos, grammar errors, and faulty
reasoning. Maybe it is time to let go of our obsession with perfection and
focus on doing our best.
In academe, perfection is a moving target
At this point in your academic journey, you have probably
read hundreds if not thousands of journal articles, books, and dissertations.
If you have written an annotated bibliography, you’ve delved deeply into your
sources. You’ve searched for support for your positions among the claims of famous
scholars and respected experts. Did you spot a few typos and grammar errors? Did
you notice some ideas that weren’t developed? Did you read some impolite references
to certain demographic segments that made you feel a little squeamish? Did you
perhaps come across some statements that lacked support?
If you are like me, you can overlook a few misspelled words
and grammar errors. You can note the unsupported statements and dig deeper. You
can forgive politically incorrect references written in a less “woke” time. At
what point do you toss the source out as unusable?
While I was writing my dissertation, I relegated about a
dozen sources to my Don’t Use folder.
The sources were so poorly written, I couldn’t identify the authors’ main
points. I can overlook a few errors, especially when the author’s first
language is not English, but when it becomes obvious the publisher failed to do
even basic editing, that is when my internal red flag starts waving: Danger, Will Robinson! If I can’t figure
out an author’s purpose and conclusions, I cannot consider the source reputable.
Perfection may not be easily identifiable because
definitions of “perfection” have changed. For example, writing styles regarding
gender and race/ethnicity have evolved to reduce bias and promote inclusion. Using
masculine pronouns to include all genders was acceptable in the 1950s—not any
more. I’m old enough to remember when the polite title Ms. was a big deal.
I may not agree, but it looks as if the word data will soon be allowed to take a
singular verb. Gah! Perfection is unattainable when the target keeps moving. Sometimes
we need to fight for our position; sometimes we need to adapt when the target
shifts.
A desire for perfection is not the enemy
I don’t want to imply that seeking perfection is a bad idea.
If we can figure out what perfection is, we should always aim toward it. Striving
to do my best always produces better quality work than if I take a half-hearted
stab at something and give up after the first try.
I used to believe my work was so stellar I didn’t need to
edit and revise . . . as if perfection streamed without fail from my fingers
onto the paper through some glorious channeling from the Muse. I admit, I fell
prey to a particularly hobbling form of arrogance, as if I had nothing more to
learn. This trap usually caught me when I had postponed doing the work until
the deadline was in front of my bleary eyes. Of course, the flip side of my
arrogance was my deep underlying fear that I really was incompetent and there
was no use in trying to produce good work, so I might as well just throw the
kitchen sink at it and go to bed.
I have a little note on my desk reminding me to A-B-C-D: Aim high, begin low, climb slowly, and don’t give up. I accept the
fact that I am unlikely to achieve perfection, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t
aim for it. Beginning low reduces the pressure. Climbing slowly and persisting
means I get a lot done. Aiming high gives me a target.
A desire for perfection can slow our forward progress
I know many artists and writers who produce very little work
because they are afraid their work is not good enough. I always wonder, good
enough for what and by whose standards?
Good enough for what
refers to the goal. Good enough to
publish? Good enough to hang in a gallery? Good enough to be approved by our
dissertation chair? What do we hope to accomplish? It’s helpful to be clear. For
example, for dissertators, the milestones we must achieve are usually outlined
clearly in our guidelines. Our literature review doesn’t need to be a thousand
pages! We don’t need ten citations to support a simple statement when one will
do.
By whose standards
means we need identify our gatekeepers. For example, our dissertation chair may
have some personal preferences that defy APA style. Hey, it happens! The review
committee might have other requirements regarding style and format. Our quest
for perfection sometimes clashes with our gatekeepers’ preferences. Whoever has
the key to the gate we want to enter, that is the person we want to please.
I ask you this: Would you rather be correct, or would you rather get
approved? Fighting over how many spaces should appear between sentences or how
many times we’ve used passive voice (yes, these fights happen) is not usually
worth the delay to our progress, although if you feel compelled to wage that
battle, I applaud you, you plucky dissertator, you.
Summary
Perfection is dandy, if we can get it, but waiting until we
achieve it can really slow us down. Focus on doing your best work and let
others spin their wheels striving for perfection. Let’s get busy. The world
needs our creative efforts!
