Review: 'You Must be Very Intelligent - The PhD Delusion'

By the time I picked up You Must be Very Intelligent – The PhD Delusion by Karin Bodewits, I had already read a number of guides written for prospective or current postgraduate students. In varying degrees of detail, those books had aimed to aid budding researchers in their career, but their purpose was to instruct and advise rather than describe the PhD life from an individual point of view. The notion of a book written semi-biographically to depict the actual experience of commencing, compiling and completing a thesis, instantly grabbed my attention. As a third-year PhD student myself, I haven’t seen very many novels dedicated to describing ‘my species’ and was tempted to compare my own observations - as well as try and foresee what else awaited me.

The book follows the life of Karin, an aspiring young woman from the Netherlands who moves to Edinburgh to pursue her dream to become an academic. Starting off with a sense of hope and ambition for her undoubtedly and soon-to-be ground-breaking research, Karin goes through the ordeals of adjusting to life abroad, settling into a new routine and finding out how to research a topic she has dived into with very little idea of what it actually encompasses. The rose-tinted goggles through which Karin envisions herself emerging as a Noble-prize winning doctor against a backdrop of fireworks are quickly knocked off by reality (and familiar challenges) of academia. As she tries to balance the difficulties of understanding the nature of her own work, adapting to the lab setting, handling collaborations, financial restrictions and communicating with a supervisor whose priorities do not align with her own, Karin slowly becomes more familiar with herself and the precarious world of research.

Divided into 4 parts, the book commences with Karin’s extremely stressful, flu-plagued interview before recounting the adventures that occur in years one, two and three of her PhD. Her story covers many of the common themes encountered in the average PhD experience: internal politics, frustrations with funding and collaborations, failed experiments and so on. The descriptions of Karin’s shock and confusion at some of the internal and external tribulations that shake her lab (including unexpected tensions such as those caused by the poor performance of her supervisor’s favourite football team) are entertaining and also tragic to spectate. The narration is peppered with dark humour and the plot reminds me somewhat of a sort of ‘Murphy’s law’ tale, describing everything that could potentially go wrong in a PhD. While the main character does not represent the perfect student, researcher or friend, she is undoubtedly relatable. The genuine feel of the book, unapologetic in describing some of the bigger flaws of the academic world, is refreshing to read. For students already in their PhD, such as myself, it’s a relief from some of the worries that follow my days in the lab, providing a sense of ‘you are not alone’ while also giving me a few laughs and reassuring me that in many regards things are working out well for me (because, boy, could it be a lot worse!).

The story is entertaining and fun to read and undoubtedly offers a different angle and approach to a typical ‘How to’ guide. But the book does portray the PhD experience in a slightly negative light. I would suggest prospective PhD students keep in mind that, along with the difficulties and injustices Karin faces during her own doctorate, she also encounters other research groups and teams which function precisely as they should. What I think the book does very well is highlight the fact that one should never go into a PhD project without having properly investigated what it is that they are getting into: the university, lab, supervisor and topic.

You may also like...