During the weekend after Thanksgiving, I spent all of my waking (and many of my sleeping) hours completing PhD applications.
Each application included a version of a Statement of Purpose—a short essay where I described my previous research experiences, why I want to get a PhD in Psychology, and the advisor(s) I want to work with.
There was a certain amount of dishonesty in these statements. In writing each one, my goal was to make a compelling argument to the admissions committee that your school is the best fit for me. Of course, this cannot be true for every program. This meant that I only talked about my research interests that perfectly overlapped with the potential advisors at those programs. Furthermore, I also needed to convince them that I was confident in my decision and desire to pursue a PhD degree.
As I wrote these statements, I felt a bit disconnected from my real interests as I tried to align them with a potential advisor.
With that said, I am genuinely excited about all the schools I applied to and would love to attend any of them. No research mentor will match my interests perfectly.
Still, I wanted to write a more complete and genuine Statement of Purpose (without the constraints of needing to stick to a prompt or word limit). A statement that includes my uncertainty, many interests, and true motivations for applying.
I am applying to PhD programs because they seem like the best opportunity to learn from experts. I like doing research, but I am not sure that I want to continue collecting and analyzing data for the rest of my life. I really enjoy reading and writing about psychology and learning why people think and behave the way they do.
Other than part-time work, I have never really had “a job”. Especially, not one I could imagine having a long-term career in. In some ways, this makes it difficult for me to imagine being anything other than a student or a teacher.
Most of my friends have “real jobs” and I am envious of their salaries, ability to fully take off time from work, and how they directly impact the real world. Academica feels somewhat removed from reality. Endless school, only with greater responsibilities as you progress.
But I love it. I would miss being a student. I want to learn more about how people think and how I can use that information to make people’s lives better.
I know I can always “do my own research” in my free time, especially since so much information is freely available online. However, I have been exposed to so much by being in a class taught by a professor.
This semester I took a Biological Psychology class and our professor began the course by acknowledging that most of us are interested in personality or social psychology but this course on biology and physiology is still important because “we all have one”.
We are all embodied and this fact determines our experiences, creating our reality. In that class, I learned about sensory systems, neuroanatomy, motor systems, and biological motivation. Topics that I would not have thought of exploring on my own.
I want to keep learning about people. Ideally, I want to be friends with a bunch of smart people and just read about psychology, philosophy, literature, religion, physics, art, (anything really) and then talk or write about what we thought about it.
So far, grad school has been pretty close to this. I am surrounded by brilliant professors, something I am probably not taking full advantage of (it is still somewhat shocking when I see their names on the list of authors for an influential paper). I get to reflect on interesting topics from class through discussions or papers. I want to get a PhD to continue being involved in spaces like this.
As far as why psychology, rather than another discipline like philosophy, I like how psychology can take ideas about justice or human nature and empirically test them. Carefully conducting experiments allows us to know something about humans, how we act, what we value (the focus of my current research), and how we can practically improve our lives.
For example, as an undergrad, I read a research article on how certain global warming messaging can have counterproductive effects on people who strongly believe in a just world (thinking that the world is fair, structured, and consistent). In this study, the researchers found that people with strong just world beliefs become more skeptical about global warming when presented with dire messaging (emphasizing the impending doom and harm to future generations) but they became less skeptical if the messaging was more positive (focusing on potential solutions).
Research like this is critical for combating climate change. If you cannot get people to even believe in global warming, how can you expect them to care enough to do something about it?
Anthony Weston, a professor of philosophy and environmental studies at Elon University, wrote a book that is honest about the reality of climate change but also proposes more optimistic and imaginative methods of addressing this issue. Rather than focusing on the apocalyptic future that awaits us if we don’t recycle, he focuses on creativity and reimagining our relationship with the environment. His book is a good example of positive messaging about climate change (I highly recommend reading it!).
I like doing research. Proposing an idea of how I expect people to act and developing a way to test that idea. However, for my long-term plans, I do not necessarily see myself doing research forever. I also want to write a book someday.
I think I have this idea of spending 5-10 years of my life deeply immersed in psychology literature, doing research, and then focusing more on integrating these concepts and making them accessible to the non-scientific public.
I just finished reading Transient and Strange: Notes on the Science of Life by Nell Greenfieldboyce, a science journalist for NPR. I really liked how she effortlessly integrated topics ranging from meteorites to fleas with personal stories from her life without compromising on the science or her lived experiences.
Using narrative as a vessel for science is compelling to me. I feel that this style has the potential to have a far greater reach than most research articles, which rely on a writing style that is still barely comprehensible to me.
It would be cool to write a book like that someday based on my research.
What if I don’t get in? (gasps)
Hopefully, I won’t have to find out but I would probably apply again next fall. This application cycle felt so rushed that I have to believe my materials can only be better if I resubmit next year. In the meantime, I will probably continue working on my current research, looking to get published, and overall strengthening my application. Maybe look for a job as a lab manager?
I also want to keep focusing on writing, either here on Substack or trying to submit to journals.
I have a tendency to anticipate the worst to avoid disappointment, especially about something that I really really want. I was initially uncertain about applying. Is this how I want to spend the next five-plus years of my life? But now that I think about possibly not getting in, I am more sure than ever.
if only we got paid to sit around in symposium philosophizing and joyously arguing over an endless fountain of merlot and basket of buttered bread! an ideal world!!
I would wish you luck friend, but I’m confident you don’t need luck :^) thanks for sharing!