Nobody said it was easy.
While in recent years, it has become a favourite pastime of popular media to bash Coldplay (two of the most notable examples being Family Guy's Peter Griffin getting kicked out of the band and Superhans from Peep Show likening the inability to trust people with an inclination for Chris Martin et al.), I am not afraid to admit that I proudly own the first two of their albums - everything that came out after was a bit shit indeed - and even listen to them every now and again. And today is one of these days where a specific line of their song "The Scientist" (oh the irony!) got stuck in my head:
My research proposal I submitted last November to get funding for a two-year postdoc position in the Netherlands got rejected today.
Okay, it hasn't gotten rejected officially yet, but after getting reviews on the proposal and having an expert committee (Fachkollegium) discuss it, resulting in "a recommendation to reject the proposal", getting the official statement in about four week's time is only a formality. In other words: Another ill success in my battle of being able to pursue a career (Is that term even adequate anymore?) in academia.
The timing of this news is as ill suited as can be. My PhD defense is only three days away, and while I'm finding it hard enough to focus on the final preparations for this - perfecting the 30-minute presentation of my project and reading up for the 30-minute oral exam following this -, getting a rejection at this particular moment is something I needed like a hole in the head.
Don't get me wrong. Ever since I started applying for postdoc positions last summer, I've had the questionable opportunity to get used to rejections, because so far all of the applications I sent (about ten, two pending) have been responded to with a "We are sorry but the position is already filled". Also, I am aware that the transition from being a PhD student to being a "proper" member of the academic world is something that goes smoothly for the least of us for a number of reasons, partly beyond an individual's control.
First of all, the ratio available PhD student positions : postdoc positions is ridiculous: An estimate I've heard a couple of times is that, at least for Germany, for 12-15 PhD students there is one postdoc position, so from a very pessimistic point of view, your chances to get a job after graduating are about 8 %. Why is that? Because PhD students are cheap labour. Many of the positions are funded by external organisations so your employer (who technically isn't your employer but only the person who supervises your work and provides a desk and computer) doesn't have to pay for anything but nevertheless gets an additional staff member. The downside for the employee is that s/he has to pay for health insurance during graduate school (in Germany, that's almost a whopping 20 % of your "income"), and after terminating the fellowship is not eligible to any form of subsidy (unemployment benefits, pension funds and the like). So when you're done with your PhD and are not part of the lucky minority who gets a job right away, you are only eligible to welfare, while at the same time being forced to accept any job that is offered to you. Your education doesn't count shit. Quite the contrary: I made the experience to get treated like a lazy-ass long-time student who has never actually worked in their life. I was offered a 20-hour-a-week job in a call centre. I was supposed to hand in three applications a week, and the person responsible was eager to ignore the fact that applications in my field (or academia in general) usually exceed the ordinary cover letter and CV. In short, you've worked your ass off for the past three years and still you have nothing but your doctorate degree - which can't pay for your rent.
Another reason why many people struggle with finding a job after obtaining their doctorate is that for future employers, you need to be a jack of all trades. (Fun fact: In German, it's called "eierlegende Wollmilchsau", i.e., a pig which lays eggs and provides wool and milk at the same time. I find this idiom very adequate.) Ideally, you should have published at least a handful of papers during your PhD, gained routine in EEG, MEG, fMRI, and CHI (cognitive humbug investigation)* data acquisition and analysis, taught a number of BSc and MSc courses, and supervised a couple of thesis projects. Not to mention a few stays abroad and a reasonable network within the community of big shots. While a very small number of these über persons does exist (and I'm sure they've worked hard to get there, so no grudge intended), the reality is this: You start as a PhD student. You come up with a project. The first few experiments will fail, forcing you to start all over again. You design your experiments. You collect your data. You analyse your data. You write up a paper. You write your dissertation. Meanwhile you need to attend conferences, possibly also follow seminars and/or teach undergrads. Before you know it, three years (at least!) are over. And given the fact that you do the majority of your work on your own (which is good, because you started this to learn and grow and be independent), you just don't have any time to excel in all the other things future employers expect from you.
Right now I'm feeling that my time as a PhD student is an exhibit A for this. I don't have any publications yet. As I'm writing, I have one paper summing up my entire project submitted. It's a 60-page manuscript containing 8 experiments with 32 participants each. The results are very interesting (I know I have to say that because it's my project, but I genuinely believe it), I've heard from a number of people that they want to see it published, and I got the best grade for my dissertation. Besides finishing up the manuscript and the dissertation, I was busy writing job applications, which, as mentioned earlier, tend to be quite ample, ranging from five to 20 pages for a project proposal. And maybe it's me, but coming up with an idea for a new project and outlining the latest state of the art, your hypotheses, methods, and expected results, isn't something you get done on a Saturday afternoon. All this, however, doesn't count when you apply for a job as long as you don't have physical proof of your success. And even if my paper does get published in the future, I still expect rejections because I only have one publication. Plus I don't have a background in cognitive neuroscience (it's all about BRAAAAAINS), and my repeatedly expressed intent to learn new methodologies is probably only met with a smirk.
Science is derived from the Latin word for knowledge. Correct me if I'm wrong, but knowledge needs to be acquired. And while a doctorate is the highest academic degree, I don't think obtaining it should mark the end of learning. Quite the opposite - doesn't this oh-so acclaimed degree designate someone as being able to work and learn independently, because after all, that's what the candidate proved by finishing a project? If somebody expresses a wish to stay in academia because that's what that person is best at, shouldn't they be at least given a chance? If they fuck up because everything they said were only empty promises, they can still get fired. Why can't things just work out?
Returning to the Coldplay song I mentioned at the beginning, please take a few minutes and listen to it. While I'm sure it's meant to be a cheesy love song (referring to two human beings, that is), I now consider it more of an anthem for my complicated, not to say desperate, relationship with science, including my existential crisis which tells me I'll never get the job I want.
Nobody said it was easy
Oh it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard
Oh take me back to the start
Especially the last line could be interpreted as my ever-growing wish to start all over again, getting educated in a field that guarantees you a safe future. Interestingly though, I always misunderstood "start" as "stars". Which is quite tragicomic if your first association with stars is that they are a symbol of statistical significance. Now all I hope, though, is that line number two won't turn into reality after all.
* Disclaimer: CHI doesn't exist. I just made that up because I'm angry.