Harry Potter and The Infinite Pursuit Of Academic Papers
Finding, collating, reading and citing academic literature is a cornerstone of any academic’s lifestyle. It begins in the early days of homework at school, where the odd snippet from a relevant Wikipedia page is sufficient, and steadily becomes increasingly sophisticated as you climb the academic ladder. Of course, it is important to get your grounding in research literature for most academic pursuits, how can one ever contribute meaningful knowledge to the world without first taking time to appreciate what their distinguished predecessors have produced before them?
However, as many of you will know, and as many more of you will come to learn, there is a point in this great ladder of academia where the rungs feel fewer and farther between. A monotony sets in, a perpetual limbo where that next rung simply fades into the distance. I personally found myself there very recently, upon commencing my PhD.
What I and my peers, have found is that it’s simply never-ending! At PhD level, you need to read masses of literature, that is a given, I fully accept that I signed up for that when I accepted the offer to do it in the first place. However, it has now reached the point where I feel like I have become one of those kinetic perpetual motion office toys. I sit in an office, and spend my days reading academic papers, but yet for every paper I read, there are approximately 10 references that I need to read as well, before I can implement the original paper into my work. Back and forth I swing from paper to paper, with what appears to be no end in sight.
I now stand in amazement, with newfound admiration, for PhD graduates: how they manage to conduct their first study, not to mention produce a ‘completed’ thesis is beyond my comprehension. This is only the tip of what is a much larger iceberg – even if I do manage to conquer the existing literature, as I write the final words of my review, there are researchers across the globe writing the final words of new papers for publication, just waiting to set me off again.
That is not to say my PhD research is boring, far from it, as soon as phrases like: ‘I do forensic psychology’ or ‘I do research in prisons’ are overheard at social gatherings, I am barraged with questions from inquisitive minds, eager for me to divulge everything in excruciating detail.
There comes a point where you become so saturated in information that it loses its initial lustre, it becomes a millstone around your neck, which becomes increasingly burdensome as time moves on. In doing so, like some form of Stockholm syndrome, you become attached to this encumbrance, you hate to love it, you invest everything in it, though you receive nothing in return. The only thing to keep you going is the thought that one day, on some administrative application form in the distant future, you will be able to tick the box that says Dr instead of Mr, Miss or Mrs.
