The Fourth Option

I’ve heard there are three common responses to anxiety or fear: freeze, fight or flight. Now, my PhD is in pure maths, so I have no idea if that’s 100% right, but it got me thinking about stress over questions in the viva. If an examiner asks a tough question or makes an observation that isn’t in line with the way you think, you could:

  • Freeze: mind goes blank, no idea what to do, just hold still and hope that they move on.
  • Fight: go to war with them, take no prisoners, do everything to bring their arguments to their knees.
  • Flight: try to umm and ahh your way free, take evasive action and hope you get out.

Fortunately, there’s another option: Figure it out. Take a pause, think about what’s actually been said; ask some more questions if need be. Make sure you understand what your examiner has said. Ask them why. Get as much information as you can, and then try to resolve the situation.

No need to panic, battle or run. Just think.

Enough

I felt like I had done enough viva preparation when I went to bed on the evening of June 1st 2008. I’d read my thesis. I’d made notes. I’d dug out all of the papers I thought were useful. I had packed my bag – including two textbooks just in case – and rehearsed my slides for my presentation. I was ready. I had everything I needed. I’d had plenty of time to get to that point.

I’d even packed a bottle of water and two chocolate bars in my bag. Prepared.

The next morning, viva day, I got to the university and went straight to my supervisor’s office. Knock-knock, “Hugh, can I just check, when we talk about genus 2 handlebodies, they’re…”

If you keep thinking, if you keep going, you’ll always find more. More things to do. More questions to ask. More things to check up on with your supervisor.

Enough for me was being able to find things in my thesis, being sure of my proofs, being clear in my mind about the results I’d got – and having everything I thought I needed in my bag the night before.

What does enough look like for you? Think about it, make some decisions. Make a plan. Now you know what you have to do to get to “enough”.

Hours and Years

Two to three hours is pretty standard for a viva. Sometimes less, sometimes more. Two to three hours is the right neighbourhood.

Three to four years is pretty standard for a PhD. Sometimes less, sometimes more. Three to four years puts us in a meaningful ballpark.

People worry about “long” vivas. Mine was four hours. I’ve heard of the occasional six-hour viva. It can seem like a long time to be on and discuss your research. But you get to those hours of discussion after years of work. You’re in a good place.

Four Hours

My viva was four hours long. It was over in an eye-blink. I left my viva thinking, “What just happened?” I was tired because I had slept badly, and the viva was quite an involved discussion at times. Still, I was really surprised to find out four hours had gone by. I’ve heard similar stories from other PhD graduates: vivas that seemed to take no time at all despite clocks and watches clearly showing hours have passed.

Two/three/four hours at the end of years of research, learning and development – by comparison it really is an eye-blink. In the moment it could fly by, or there could be questions that drag on and on (I remember those too). But relative to all that you’ve done the viva is a tiny step in the PhD process: one of the final ones, but one at the end of a great deal of work by you. However long the viva is, you’re in a good place to meet the challenge.

Strategy

“What’s a good strategy for answering questions in the viva?”

It’s a common question I get in workshops. I’m not sure why. I understand that people want to do well, but at the same time I wonder if it’s overthinking things too much.

You’re asked a question? Pause briefly to think, then answer.

Your viva is probably going to feel more like a discussion or conversation than anything else. If an examiner wants to know more or less then they’ll steer things. If they want to talk about something else or ask a particular question then they will. When asked a question, answer as well as you can. That’s probably all you need to have in mind for a strategy.

Alternatively…

From xkcd, at https://xkcd.com/1403/

Medals

“We’re so pleased to present you with this award for shortest viva this year, well done!”

“Congratulations, you did it! Here is a Silver Star for no typos in your thesis!”

“This ribbon shows that you are Quite Probably The Smartest Cookie Ever. Both the external examiner and I salute you!”

Three sentences which have never been uttered during or after a viva. And there are no medals for the viva. There are different awards, like getting no corrections, minor, major and so on, but you don’t get a prize. You’ll get a certificate when you graduate, but it’s not the same.

You’re not doing your PhD and the viva for badges and medals though. (I hope) You have your reasons, but sometimes those reasons – your why – get lost in the doing. As the end of the PhD looms, take some time to reflect on why you were doing it all in the first place. Maybe those reasons have changed as well, but in either case it’s interesting.

In three seconds…

In three seconds…
…a photon travels almost 900 million metres.
…a Shinkansen moves over 250m.
…Usain Bolt is a third of the way to the finish line.
…in the viva you can feel like there’s an awkward pause in conversation.

Three seconds might not seem like a long time, but it’s all about perspective. Three seconds is the difference between victory and defeat in a race. In the viva, it’s not even a pause, but it can feel like forever.

In reality, it’s a few heartbeats while you put some thoughts in order and take a breath. Not too long, in fact not long at all. Take a quick pause to think in the viva and you’ll go a long way.

Tick Tock

As a presenter, I silently curse institutions when I arrive to do a workshop and there is no clock on the wall. A clock is helpful to a presenter because they can keep track of where they are in their talk or session. If time slips or something changes they can modify as they go along. You can just glance whenever needed and move forwards.

If it’s viva day though, and you’re the one there to answer questions, a clock is not your friend. A clock just tells you how long you’ve been there, and whatever you see will not help your confidence. Ten minutes in, and you think, “I wonder what’s coming up?” Thirty minutes in: “Is it going well?” Ninety minutes: “How long is left?”

These are questions that you don’t need. They won’t help. At best they take your attention away from the focus for the day. At worst they knock your confidence by summoning doubts. A simple solution to a powerful problem: sit with your back to the clock or ask if it can be taken down. If you normally wear a watch, take it off. You’re fine without the time.

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