The morning after I passed my viva, I sat alone at breakfast in a hotel, jealously watching families and couples eating together.
What was wrong with me? I had been dreaming of this moment for so long. The previous night I had been elated at finally achieving something that had taken me nearly a decade owing to two failed relationships, a miscarriage, the loss of my home and resulting financial hardship, self-funding, and a chronic illness triggered by hepatitis. I had silenced my schoolteachers, who had labelled me stupid. Yet I felt lonely, ungrateful and deflated.
My PhD had been my anchor, the constant in my life when everything else was falling apart. I had hoped a doctorate would erase my past and transform my life, as others had promised that it would. But it didn’t.
In the decades that have followed, these feelings have receded and I’m able to take pride in my achievements. This helps me support my own doctoral students, examine PhDs and train supervisors. Yet I’ve learned from them about people whose relationships ended shortly after they got their PhD, or who found the doctoral process so debilitating that they abandoned academia after graduating, or whose mental or physical health problems suddenly worsened the moment their studies stopped.
There’s a name for such phenomena: the PhD comedown. And we need to talk about it because it isn’t unusual, can be distressing and confusing, and may mask other significant issues. Left unaddressed, it may lead to poor decision-making or a failure to seek appropriate support.
For most of us, PhD comedown is an entirely normal and predictable reaction to an incredibly focused period of study. Indeed, we might find ourselves grieving the ending of our PhD while being uncertain of our new identity as a “doctor”. Comedown can strike at any time after submitting your thesis, doing your viva or attending your graduation. Alongside the positives we feel – relief, pride, excitement, hope – it is common to feel strung out, directionless, empty, uncertain and tearful. This may last for a matter of days or could stretch into months.
If a student struggled through their studies, had poor supervision, a particularly tough viva, major revisions, or is in dispute with their university, they may also feel angry or anxious. The same goes, in particular, for those subject to various kinds of discrimination during the doctoral process, due to – among other things – racism, sexism, homo/bi/transphobia, ableism or other inequalities (such as being a parent or carer). Anyone who has been ground down within an environment of bullying and harassment may struggle to celebrate successes.
Meanwhile, if other problems or life events were never acknowledged nor supported during the doctoral period, it is common to find, as I did, that they are still waiting for you after you finish. Not everything has a solution and it’s unrealistic to expect or suggest that PhDs are some sort of panacea for structural barriers or problems in other aspects of life.
Currently, we don’t prepare doctoral students adequately for what comes after submission, viva or graduation. Without a range of options to consider – particularly careers outside universities – it’s easy to feel trapped. Not least if you discover that the university jobs you expected, and that your degree qualifies you for, aren’t available.
Which brings us on to the crisis of precarity and competitiveness within universities. While we’re busy offering ever more PhDs, we do not adequately buffer these with pastoral care, careers advice and training in more than just passing a viva. Nor have we created fairly paid, secure jobs across universities that those with PhDs might want to do. Moreover, rising rates of workplace pressure and the inevitable accompanying mental distress for supervisors and students diminishes the result in fewer opportunities for supervisors to provide advice.
The risk in discussing either PhD comedown or the wider problems inherent in universities is that doctoral candidates may become demotivated or anxious about their futures. Supervisors rightly worry about their pastoral roles expanding without additional training, supervision time or pay being offered.
There are ways we might fix this, although some are easier than others. We can challenge the myth that suffering throughout your PhD is a badge of honour to pin on your graduation gown. We can present the doctoral journey as an emotional journey that doesn’t end with submission, viva or graduation. We can alert students to the comedown, and encourage them to honour the strong feelings associated with the ending of a significant life experience. And we can advise that negativity may be offset by planning celebrations, timetabling breaks, seeking support for any existing mental or physical health problems and talking to others about what to expect.
All of us feel stronger and less isolated when we are reassured that we are not alone. Sharing our stories of how we coped when we got our doctorates can be reassuring, and even raise a smile during uncertain times.
Crucially, if someone is struggling, such stories may also point them to any care they need, while reminding them that they have managed something wonderful that they will always get to keep.
Petra Boynton is a social psychologist and author of The Research Companion: A Practical Guide to the Social Sciences, Health and Development (Routledge). She advises universities on student and staff safety and well-being. @DrPetra on Twitter and @petraboynton on Instagram.
