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PhD Exams

24 senior mathematicians met at Harvard and agreed on something big:

A PhD should no longer be awarded mainly on the dissertation text. Their reason is that AI can now help write it. They want in-person, written, and oral exams instead.

https://x.com/mathelirium/status/2103843865631293599

I have no idea how it works in mathematics, but in my program, I wouldn’t have been allowed even to present a dissertation prospectus before passing several grueling oral and written exams that were based on a long list of required readings and accompanying secondary sources. I spent years preparing for those exams. I could still probably reproduce my entire reading list by heart.

My secondary concentration for the PhD was in English literature. I was allowed to do that because English is not my first language. On the day when I was supposed to have my oral exam in English, there was a blizzard in New Haven, and the professor didn’t show up in her office. I was freaking out precisely because, without passing that exam, I was not going to be able to proceed with my dissertation proposal. I called her on the phone and persuaded her to allow me to come to her house and do the exam there.

I didn’t have a car and didn’t know how to drive anyway. Cabs were not running because the blizzard was pretty bad. I schlepped on foot, falling into snowbanks, to the professor’s house. She was stunned to see that I actually made it there, handed me a plate of Indian snacks (the professor was from India), a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of wine. I refused everything because I was nauseous with fear over the exam.

The exam was supposed to be 45 minutes long since it was a secondary concentration. But the professor said that since I was already there, we should have a real exam. For over two hours, she grilled me on every single text on my reading list. That professor was a genius. She did not expect me and did not prepare. Neither did she remember the reading list she had given me a year earlier. I had to provide a copy of the list when I arrived. Right there on the spot, drinking copious amounts of wine and smoking like a chimney, she created a web of questions that were all interconnected and led in the same direction. Together, the questions formed an architecturally solid edifice that was a wonder to observe. I learned an enormous amount just from observing how she structured the exam.

I was soaked to the bone, but I answered every single question. “Wow, you actually did read all of the books,” the professor said. “OK, OK, you passed. Now will you start drinking already?”

The professor called a limo to take me home and packed the trunk with Indian food and two bottles of wine.

And hey, this was the secondary discipline. The comprehensive exams in my primary discipline were a lot tougher. In the oral portion that lasted hours, all of the professors were sitting around a table and asking me questions on the 165-book reading list. A professor of medieval literature would ask me something utterly arcane about a medieval text. I would start answering, and the professor of Latin American literature would interrupt and start quoting a poem by an early 20th-century poet and then pause expectantly, waiting for me to continue the poem by heart. After doing that, I would be expected to go back to answering the question on the medieval text.

And then there were the written exams. 20 years later, I still remember every single question on those written exams. And not everybody passed. In the year after mine, only one person passed the comprehensives on the first try. He’s a regular reader of this blog and can confirm everything I’m saying.

It’s not because of AI that the comprehensives are crucial. It’s because a dissertation, by definition, has a pretty narrow focus. If you’re going to get a PhD in a discipline, you need to be very widely read in the entirety of your field, and not just in your focus area. As one of my professors explained, “you have no idea what you will be asked to teach. Yes, you specialize in contemporary peninsular literature, but if you’re told to teach colonial Latin American literature, you need to be able to do that easily.” And guess what? My very first job after completing the PhD was in colonial Latin American Literature.

Another function of the comprehensives is to get you into the habit of reading a lot and extremely carefully. I also had a reading list, albeit a shorter one, and written/oral comprehensives for my master’s degree at McGill University. I spent 6 years of my life preparing for these different sets of comprehensives. And once you get into the habit, you can’t stop. I have read pretty much everything of note that gets published in my field and much of what gets published in contiguous fields.

When you go on the job market in my field, the dissertation is the least interesting thing about you. I don’t even remember being asked anything about the dissertation during job interviews, other than whether I was going to be able to complete it and defend it before my job appointment would start. What people care about is how wide your range is in both teaching and research. What are you going to be able to produce beyond the dissertation?

Sorry for the very long post, but this is a subject that matters to me a lot, and the idea that a PhD is just a dissertation bothers me.

8 responses to “PhD Exams”

  1.  Avatar
    Anonymous

    not being in your field and not having a PhD, I found this very interesting, and I’m even more impressed. I had to do a lot of reading for my Masters and write papers. I did all the reading but many of my peers did not. I can’t begin to name the various texts at this point.

    A.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Clarissa Avatar

      Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed the post!

      Like

  2. Erich Schwarz Avatar
    Erich Schwarz

    Reading this impressed me, and gave me weird nostalgia.

    Qualifying for a Ph.D. prospectus in molecular biology at Caltech in 1988 wasn’t exactly like what you describe, but it wasn’t beer and skittles either. We were given 72 hours in which to write five 10-page essays answering five different questions about (then) uncertain questions in molecular biology. This was long before the Web and modern software made tracking down references and writing a text around them quick and easy; we had word processors (thank goodness), but it was otherwise all driven by good old fashioned human brain power.

    It turned into as much a test of physical endurance as anything else. I myself got a total of maybe 8 hours of sleep during those 72 hours, with 4 of those sleep hours in the last 48. (At age 23, I could do that; it’d kill me now.) The best-testing member of my grad school class was somebody who, in his free time, enjoyed running marathons and doing similar athletic feats. That stamina let him blast through with the most aplomb and highest score; he went on to be the first member of our class to graduate. I tied for 2cd/3rd place with another guy who later was the 2cd member of our class to graduate, so I was holding my own, but it was tough.

    Other members of my class had it harder. About 48 hours in, one of them said randomly and blearily, “If Darth Vader were a protein, he would be membrane-spanning.”

    It was a long, long way from the U.S. academia of the 2020s.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Clarissa Avatar

      Wow, that’s hardcore. I’m honored to have such brilliant readers.

      Like

      1. Erich Schwarz Avatar
        Erich Schwarz

        I wouldn’t call your Ph.D. qualifying exams *non*-hardcore!

        Generally, I think serious academia is a lot tougher and intellectually more broad than people realize — whether it’s literature or molecular biology. Which makes bumptious comments about “AI” annoying, and makes the attempts at dumbing down academia painful to watch.

        Like

  3. Erich Schwarz Avatar
    Erich Schwarz

    Nobody in their right mind (I think?) wants all of academia to be as grueling as these qualifying-exam stories are. Hazing for the sake of hazing is bad. Yet I can’t help thinking that having these sorts of things as filters into higher academia can have legitimate purposes. Since reading this morning’s post, I’ve been trying to articulate what those purposes might be. Some things I’ve thought of:

    As you point out: academics find themselves called upon to teach or otherwise deal with a wide range of topics, far wider than their own dissertation can possibly be. Testing Ph.D. students early on to see if they can deal seriously with breadth in their field is thus highly relevant to how good they’ll be as academics later on.

    In academic tracks where one doesn’t do much teaching (like mine): staying in academic molecular biology for (e.g.) 38 years from 1988 to 2026 has effectively meant living through 3 to 6 major revolutions (depending on how one defines ‘major’, but no way is the number less than 3) in how serious work is done in that field. Essentially, every 5 to 10 years I’ve had to learn something that didn’t exist before in order to remain effective. If you can’t handle learning a lot of stuff in your early 20s to qualify for a Ph.D. prospectus, no way are you going to be able to keep retooling every half decade or so.

    The number of jobs in higher academia is necessarily limited. All other things being equal, it’s going to work out better for a given field if the people holding those jobs are above-average in their mental and physical vigor and resilience.

    Higher academia is sometimes wonderful, but it’s also sometimes stressful as heck. Again, selecting people for vigor early on is not a terrible idea because they’re more likely to be able to handle the stress.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Clarissa Avatar

      I agree with this completely. Sometimes one sees professors who keep teaching the same course for many years, reading off the same old slides and regurgitating the stuff that they learned back in graduate school. They have stopped learning because the practice never developed in them as their natural state. They are ultimately very unhappy because, for people with an intellect, this kind of a lifestyle is eminently boring. Students deserve better than a burnt-out, indifferent professor who is not keeping up with the developments in the field. I also sometimes see this in the bibliographies of articles sent to me for anonymous peer review. All of the sources are from the 1980s and 1990s, in a very vibrant field where tons of new, interesting stuff has been published since then. It’s sad.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Olivier Reid Avatar
    Olivier Reid

    You never told me that story about your English exam. I love it! Did I tell you I was convinced that they were going to fail me after my oral, without a possibility to retake the exam? I will always remember the moment when the chair congratulated me and I was sure she was going to say I had to go back home and pack my things.

    Those PhD exams are necessary.

    I still have our common friend’s excellent reading notes in my office.

    Ol.

    Like

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A conservative literary critic and college professor