Daily viva help for PhDs
On Day 1 of your PhD you have promise.
On Day 10 you might be worrying what you’ve let yourself in for, but you’re better than you were on Day 1.
On Day 100 you might be struggling, but there’s a path ahead even if you can’t see it.
On Day 1000 you’re doing so much more than you could at Day 100! Your thesis is taking shape, though there’s probably still a fair bit to do.
Well then: how good are you and your thesis going to be by the end? Pretty darn good.
On the one hand: your examiners will have read your thesis carefully, formulated an opinion, come up with questions to ask and be ready to examine you and your thesis.
On the other hand: you did the research, you wrote the thesis, you can prepare for your viva and be ready to discuss everything with your examiners.
Right?
I’ve been thinking about superheroes and the viva again (see previously). Some heroes have their powers all the time, regardless of whether they’re in uniform. Some have tools or equipment that make them better, but Captain America is still awesome without his shield. Tony Stark might be smart but he’s not Iron Man without a suit. And Bruce Banner might be very clever, but he’s not the Hulk unless he changes. Different kinds of heroes.
This makes me think of viva preparation. Some people feel more or less happy about the viva when they submit their thesis, because they have their knowledge at their fingertips. Some people feel alright, but know that they’ll feel better if they make some notes or do something to prepare. And some people need something to help them transform: they have to prepare or they won’t feel ready.
All of these needs are fine. If your viva is coming up, you just need to reflect for yourself: what do you need so you’ll be at your best?
Then go be a hero.
I can’t say people never get tough questions in the viva.
I can’t say candidates never face examiners who are overly harsh.
I can’t say YOU won’t have a bad viva.
Because people do. Even though most people have a perfectly fine experience in the viva – tiring, draining, tricky but overall fine if not enjoyable – some people don’t. So what can you do?
Keep doing good work now. You can’t know in advance what your viva will be like exactly. Good or bad, right now you can put yourself on the path to be the best you in the viva. Someone who knows their stuff, someone who knows how to be a good researcher in their field, someone primed for confidence and able to answer questions about their research.
Bad viva? Not in your control. Good candidate? That’s all up to you.
You did all the work that you got this far.
Whether it’s your transfer viva, a conference presentation, your viva, walking across a stage somewhere to shake a hand and collect a scroll – you did that. No one else. On Day One of the PhD you were supposed to be there. On Day 1000 you were supposed to be there. Keep going, and when you get the chance, tell people about it. Your story might help someone.
Winning the lottery is lucky: you buy a ticket, or lots of them, and maybe yours is the one that wins. There’s no skill, it happens or not.
Winning a race is fortunate: you develop skill, and even if there are other skilled people taking part your skill wins out. It isn’t luck, because you didn’t leave it to chance.
One of these descriptions is like the viva, and one is not, despite both being about situations involving a great many people.
If you’re lucky, you did something but it wasn’t in your control really. It could have been anyone else who succeeded, and what you did didn’t particularly matter. If you’re fortunate, then something good has happened, but what you did made a difference. Success in the viva is fortunate, I think, because it comes down to your developing talent through the PhD and what you are able to show on the day.
This is how I put the line between lucky and fortunate; you might define them differently, but I think you take my point. If you’ve read a lot of posts on this blog then you’ll know it’s a recurring theme for me: success in your PhD and viva is down to your talent and is not just good luck. This is important for the story you tell yourself afterwards. Not “I was lucky with the questions I got,” but “I was fortunate that I had done the work and could answer their questions well.”
You’re fortunate, you’re not lucky.
The PhD versus the Viva: if you can get it done* for 1000+ other days, why would this day be any different**?
*show up, learn, develop, grow, make, read, think, synthesise, propose, share, write, play, do and keep on doing…
**you’re at a challenging point, but you’ve shown yourself to be capable of meeting these challenges.
My wife and I really enjoyed the Daredevil show on Netflix. For those who don’t know the character, Daredevil is a superhero who is blind but has super-senses. His hearing, sense of touch, smell and so on are so powerful that he has an advantage over people who can see. Of course, there are some things he can’t do, because despite his super-senses he still can’t see.
Nathan, this is a blog about a vivas and PhDs and stuff!
Oh yeah!
The character of Daredevil got me thinking about the viva. If you’re on your way to the viva you have a similar situation: you’re blind to what’s coming your way. You don’t know how long it will be, you don’t know what questions are coming, you don’t know what opinions your examiners have formed. There’s a lot you don’t and can’t know.
But like Daredevil you have an advantage: you have the experience of doing your PhD. You have 3+ years of work and thinking about your research, not just the thesis. You can’t see the question coming, but when it comes you know how to tackle it. Why? Because you have superpowers.
(Again, it’s no accident that you’re at the viva)
I’ve got a few questions for you: Did you do the work? Did you show up at the library or the lab or the office? Did you overcome obstacles through the tough times? Did you learn, did you grow, did you develop?
If you did all of these during your PhD, how could you be in a bad position for the viva?
It’s understandable if you are nervous, but it’s no accident that you’ve got this far. Keep going.