My life as a Ph.D. student is in some ways similar to life on a small isolated country. I have (perhaps foolishly) moved there willingly, and I intimately know a number of the residents. I have come to share with the inhabitants their remarkably common lifestyles, similar viewpoints, and a love for bar trivia.
It is often believed that we natives of this isolated country are innately taciturn, with a breeding that renders us paralyzed in the face of normal social interaction. In reality, we are mainly trained to make our chaotic stew of scientific thought into something useful to the public. Any Ph.D. student who has defended a qualifying exam, a dissertation, or received harsh comments from publication reviewers has experienced those challenging, aggravating, and all around exciting moments as we dexterously communicate blips of our academic thinking.
It might be surprising, then, that once I leave my isolated country of academia, a few simple questions I get from friends, family, strangers, and foes can be difficult to answer. How can just a couple of words render me speechless when my isolated country fixates on the art of scholarly communication? The answer lies in the silent thought process.
Here is a list of the 3 most common things people say to me when they hear I’m an engineering Ph.D.
Wow, you must be really smart!
This makes the question a conversation killer. How do convey this honest rejection of the compliment without coming off as being coy (or worse, ungrateful)? I have dabbled at responding with, “Well, not particularly smart. I just went to school and kept on going,” but this response is taken as coy and ungrateful. So now I awkwardly mumble in a typically nerdy way, “Umm…I guess…” In the future, I’m just going to say, “You bet your ass.”
Wow, you must really be in debt!
Sometimes this remark is made with genuine concern. The observer may remember what it was like when he/she had crippling debt from college loans. Indeed, college debt is a crippling problem for many of the youths in America, with student loan debt amassing to $1 trillion. When I comment that I am getting paid for my Ph. D (although, admittedly, not making bank), the observer gives an exclamation of minor surprise, and the conversation tends to wander to American economics. American economics is a subject in which the entirety of my knowledge comes from a high school AP class and the movie Fun with Dick and Jane, making me ill-equipped to provide any worthy contribution.
What are you going to do with that?
See how boring that was, it probably didn’t even make sense.
The observer has unknowingly asked a question that is the equivalent of, “What’s the weather like over there.” The answer is both fickle and is of no genuine interest to practically anyone. I often find the conversations are followed with the observers’ eyes slowly glazing over while he/she calmly and meditatively ponders what enticed this question.
However, as I come to the end of my Ph. D, I find this query to be unreasonably stressful. My first expression might be one of panic (and maybe despair), as the sirens blaze off in my head “What are you going to do with that? The only thing you’re qualified for is receiving criticism. That’s fine for your twenties, but it’s not a career.” In this case, the panic produces a stream of nonsense from my mouth, as I babble in indecipherable scientific language and then move on to ambiguous job titles like “consultant” and “researcher”. Altogether, I am best off with a taciturn shrug. Although, it might be interesting to describe the ultimate fear of my post graduation unemployment fate: “I plan to move in with my parents and catch up on some TV.”
So there you have is: silent thoughts for harmless questions that produce a socially awkward Ph. D. Please leave your comments (found at the top of the blog) about your harmless questions and awkward answers, as they may prove to be more interesting than this blog post.