Don't compare yourself to others

Unlike most educational programs, research-based graduate degrees require an interesting hybrid of classes, work, and the unknown. As detailed in my previous post, that “unknown” factor can be particularly difficult for grad students to accept (at least it was for me); still, the pursuit of “new” knowledge lies at the heart of the research experience.

Grad school timelines sometimes progress more slowly than we expect...

Yet while the heart of academia is discovery, the practice of academia revolves around reputations. Degrees, titles, publications, presentations… The CV-building list goes on. These achievements are intended to communicate to the scientific community (and the world) that you are an expert in your field and qualified to speak authoritatively as such. And to an extent, this is true.

But here’s the problem.

This reputation-driven nature of academia conditions researchers to compare themselves to others.

“Wow, look at ________________; he has so many papers!”

“_____________ is doing so well; she’s on track to finish her PhD in only three years!”

Of course, we should acknowledge success when recognition is due. Research is hard, and people who work diligently to reach various milestones should be commended for their efforts. The issue is that – in a profession where our apparent value as researchers is defined by achievements – it becomes too easy for us to view ourselves as inferior by comparison. In reality, so many variables control publications, grad school timelines, etc., but because society focuses on the end products, it can be hard to celebrate our progress in light of its own unique conditions and challenges.

I remember some conversations I’ve had with newer grad students, in which they’d essentially say that they were determined to, “not be me” (in the sense of taking more time in grad school than planned). While it is true that many aspects of my graduate experience did not turn out as I initially expected, this got me thinking:

How did I become the example of what not to do in grad school?

From the “other side,” I can look back and see that the struggles and extra time were necessary to make me into the scientist I am today. However, I did not always feel this way. When I started grad school, I was very much like these students: determined that if I did what I was supposed to do, things would turn out right (according to my perception of what “right” meant). After all – I thought – my undergraduate research experience was like that; I’d start with a hypothesis, use well-defined methods to collect data, and make interpretations. If I did my part, what could go wrong?

It didn’t take long for my [unrealistic] expectations to unravel. But as I started to encounter challenges, I saw that some of my peers did not face the specific problems that I had. Since we were all together in the same program, I began to question whether I was doing something wrong. I had a perceived standard of what was right, and I was falling short of that standard.

So if new grad students (like I was) subconsciously believe that “unplanned” timelines are a mark of failure, where does this mindset come from? As scientists, we know that each person’s research experience is not the same, and yet I think we feel an underlying assumption that it should be the same. We want everything to be “fair” – but that’s not how life works. Furthermore, a situation that appears “unfair” may serve a greater purpose in the long run: a purpose that can be difficult or impossible to see at first.

The lesson for the researcher (or anyone), then, is to just put your head down and do your own work to the best of your ability. Each individual deals with unique roadblocks, so it is a moot point to compare the end results; the equations that produced those results are different.

If you’re a grad student, focus on becoming a researcher, not on the timeline. I say this last point carefully, as I know that funding constraints and other factors can sometimes put stricter deadlines on program completion. But, as your situation allows, consider: what are a few extra years of grad school in the context of your whole career? The ultimate goal is for you to become a scientist; if you do that, you will have succeeded.