Taking Your Turn

I like board games which have a bit of structure to them: on your turn play one card; follow the card’s rule; move your piece; draw or discard cards until you have a hand of three. There’s a large possibility space for what a player might do, but the structure helps things move along.

The viva isn’t a game thankfully, but there is still an element of turn-taking in a discussion. One person speaks and then another is given the opportunity to respond. You, the candidate, can ask questions in the viva, but more often than not you’ll be responding.

You have to wait for your turn and then you have to take your turn.

On your turn you might be faced with a big question or a small question, easy or hard, simple or difficult and you might or might not know immediately what to say. A bit of structure helps here too, whatever the question: on your turn, breathe; pause to consider the question; ask for clarification if needed; get your thoughts in order; then speak calmly and as clearly as you can.

The viva isn’t a game, you’re not earning victory points or trying to get ahead of everyone else in the room. Decide in advance what strategy you’ll employ to take your turn and use every opportunity your examiners present you.

What I Did

I remember reading my thesis a lot after submission. Without thinking about the purpose too much I remember adding a lot of notes to my thesis margins. I would circle or mark jargon terms that I had trouble with in the hope that I would be able to remember them at the viva. I stuck sticky notes at the start of chapters to help me navigate my thesis.

I had a weekly meeting with my supervisor throughout my PhD that we continued after I submitted my thesis. Each week we talked about one chapter in my thesis. I don’t recall a particular purpose, we weren’t exploring “What might an examiner ask?” – the conversation was more general than that.

I read a survey paper on a topic my external was interested in. My supervisor thought this would be helpful because my external would want me to explain whether my work could connect up with this hot topic area. My supervisor was 100% correct in this belief!

I prepared an overview presentation of my thesis because I was asked for that by my examiners; I knew that that was how my viva would start and so that gave me something to focus on.

I also:

  • Didn’t really ask about what vivas were like.
  • Didn’t have a mock viva.
  • Didn’t check over any recent papers to see if there was anything relevant to my work.
  • Didn’t reflect on my own journey.
  • Didn’t rehearse for responding to questions.

And I knocked on my supervisor’s door with fifteen minutes to go before my viva so that I could check a definition one more time, because I had suddenly gone blank.

 

What does all this mean? I don’t know. I was very busy getting ready, but could have been more effective. I did a lot of work but with no thought about whether it was the right thing to do. I don’t think I did anything unhelpful but I know missed things that could have made a real difference.

I was ready for my viva but with a bit of thought I could have been much more well-prepared.

And Then What?

It’s not unusual to feel that the viva is a bit of an anticlimax.

It takes a lot to submit a thesis. It takes work to prepare for a viva. There’s a lot of anticipation and a lot of feelings-

-and then it’s over.

Two, three or four hours. They could be tough. They could be a nice chat. The viva could feel long or short. The questions could be a natural part of a conversation or feel like a challenging exercise.

But your viva will be over before you know it. You’ll most likely succeed.

Then what?

 

It’s one day. A few hours of one day. One challenge after years of challenges.

Get the viva in the right perspective. Find out what other people experience so you know what you can reasonably expect. Plan to do something to celebrate so that even if the viva makes you say, “…was that it?!” you still have something to look forward to.

Not The Reason

I’ve lost count of the number of PhD candidates who’ve told me that they’re worried about receiving critical questions.

Some are worried about particular criticisms. Some are worried about hypothetical questions. Some are worried about the questions that they haven’t anticipated.

All are being rational.

It’s not that they should worry, more that it’s not irrational to worry about critical viva questions. Given the amount of work involved in getting to the viva – and given the outcome that a candidate would be hoping for – it’s understandable to worry.

As ever, in situations where someone worries it helps to ask why.

  • If you’re worried about a particular criticism, why? What’s the reason?
  • If you’re worried about a particular hypothetical question, why? If you’ve thought about it, can’t you do something to think about how you might respond?
  • If you’re worried about the undefined mass of questions you’ve never considered, why? Is there nothing you can do to change how you feel?

I have a three-word aphorism that I always try to keep in mind (both for myself and others): work past worry. Worry is human, but action will always take you closer to resolving the situation than worrying alone.

If you worry, do something.

If you worry there’s a reason for that worry. If you do something you can work towards the concern being satisfied in some way.

Remember as well that whatever question your examiners ask, there is always a reason motivating them. If you’re not sure how to respond then try to consider the reason for their question in the first place.

Keeping Focus In The Viva

“How do I stay focussed in the viva?” has the same response as “How do I engage well in the viva?”

You listen.

You pause.

You think.

You check details in your thesis.

You ask questions.

You make notes.

You share the best responses that you can to provide context, information and demonstrate who you are and what you did.

Engaging well keeps your focus. Keeping focus helps you to engage well.

An Opportunity

Problems are only opportunities in work clothes.

I first came across this sentiment after my PhD was finished. I wish I’d heard it sooner. Every time I remember it I feel a boost for weeks afterwards as I’m working.

If a piece of writing is tricky then I remind myself that it’s a chance to figure out a good way of expressing something. When an admin process gets me down I realise I can explore ways to do things more simply or easily. And if a period seems like it could be very busy I start figuring out how to lighten the load.

All problems of one form or another. All opportunities to learn, develop, grow and change how I do things.

 

What aspects of your viva or viva prep seem like problems to you? Are they big or small? Have they been on your radar for a while, bothering you, or have they only recently started made an impact?

Whatever the problem, can you change how you look at it? Where is the opportunity? Can you learn something? Can you create a better position by “solving” your problem? Can you reach out for help?

Some problems go away by themselves, but rather than hope and be stressed later, act soon to take advantage of the opportunity before you. Work towards being ready for your viva, despite the obstacles and problems in your path.

Stretch Now

I’m a big fan of the Comfort, Stretch, Panic way of framing challenges. If something is well within your capabilities, it belongs to the first category; if it requires more effort but you can approach it with some confidence then it’s a Stretch. And if it fills you with Panic, then perhaps it’s not something to try for just now.

I think a lot of PhD candidates worry that their viva will be firmly in the Panic Zone. They’re concerned that questions will be beyond them, that pressure will break them, that perhaps the relationships in the room (or over video) will make them feel awful.

It doesn’t matter that most vivas go well – hindsight is great – but what about now? What about when someone is headed for the viva?

Candidates anticipating panic need to stretch themselves. Hoping that questions won’t be too tough won’t help defeat panic. Avoiding more difficult challenges is a way to store up pressure for later. Viva preparation should involve stretching.

For the pre-panic candidate, find new ways to reflect on your work; take time to rehearse for the viva; be open to developing yourself just that little bit more – it might only take a little stretch. Stretching now might help a candidate see that the viva doesn’t have to be a cause for panic.

In fact, it might even be a comfortable experience.

A Spectrum of Experience

I have complicated feelings about my viva. It was fine, it went well, but it wasn’t totally enjoyable for me; that has nothing to do with my examiners.

It was “bad” that I didn’t sleep well the night before. I got about three hours sleep; I had some nerves and adrenaline going in but a great background tiredness.

And then my viva was four hours long.

I started it tired.

I ended it exhausted.

And everything else about my viva was good: not good by comparison, but good!

My examiners were fair with their questions. They had clearly prepared. They had opinions, but asked me to contribute rather than just pass a decision. They didn’t like how two of my chapters were written, but discussed them with me rather than simply give me corrections.

My viva was four hours long, and I was shattered by the end, but in many ways it felt like it was over much too quickly. It was an anticlimax, as was the end of my PhD. I don’t think that’s universal, but I know I’m not unique in thinking that. After all, a viva is only part of one day: pressured, important, full of the good and maybe a little “bad” – but still only a few hours compared to more than a thousand days you might spend pursuing a PhD.

If your viva is in the future, ask others about theirs: ask for the good and the bad, and look for the balance that might help set your own expectations. If your viva is in the past, tell others: share the details that make up the picture. How did you feel? Why was that?

First Class Viva

I don’t know that I’ll ever get to fly first class, but I’ve been fortunate to travel first class by train a few times in the last year.

I’m a fan of first class. The seats are a little comfier, the carriage is a little nicer, and the free tea and biscuits are very nice. By comparison, most of the time when I travel in standard, the train is a little crowded, the tables a little smaller, the tea is expensive and I bring my own biscuits.

Of course, the train gets you to your destination, first class or standard. In reality the differences are all little. The seats aren’t that much bigger. The table isn’t made of gold. The conductor isn’t your butler. It’s just a few little things, but they add up to a big smile and a good experience.

I think the same is true for the viva. It won’t take 101 big things – or even 101 small things – to make your viva a great moment in your PhD journey. Think about what would make the difference for you, then think about what you could do to help your viva be great.

Make a little list, then see how you can make it a reality.

It won’t take a lot to make your viva a first class experience.

Time And The Viva

How long will the viva be? How long should it be? If it’s long – or short – is that bad?

There are norms – two to three hours is quite common – but you can’t know in advance. It could be less, it could be more. Many candidates, I think the majority, feel like their viva passes in the blink of an eye.

The length doesn’t indicate something good or bad. There’s no correlation between the length of the viva and the outcome.

A successful viva is not a function of how long it takes. The time isn’t as important as you are.