3.1 Framing the timetable

Once the researcher and supervisor are paired, it is essential for both parties to agree in framing and monitoring the timetable. Embarking on a big project entails settling in for a long slog. It usually takes three to four years to research, write and present to publishable standard an original study of 80,000–100,000 words; to make, in the words of most university regulations, ‘an original contribution to knowledge’. That’s a big personal investment in time and effort, especially given that there will be moments of doubt, illness and sundry life crises, as well as moments of euphoria. (By the way, there are a small number of people with funds and years to spare who do truly want a lifetime project. That objective may be fine in a few special cases, but they can’t expect a lifetime supervisor.)

The standard for a four-year PhD, amounting to at least 80,000 and no more than 100,000 words in some eight to ten chapters, will therefore include something like the following (to be adapted according to length of thesis, nature of the research and time available):

YEAR 1:    Write: review of historiography; review of sources; review of methodology; at least one research chapter (preferably two)

YEAR 2:    Pass progression interview; and write three to four research chapters

YEAR 3:    Give a paper to a research seminar; write three to four research chapters

YEAR 4:    Revise all chapters; write an Introduction and Conclusion, incorporating a revised version of the literature review plus source critique; compile booklist of works consulted (bibliography); submit thesis for examination; and wait anxiously for the oral examination (viva)

Working to an agreed timetable helps to even out the mood swings that accompany the long slog. There will be moments of happy absorption, but also periods of boredom, isolation, exasperation, wrong turns and discouragement that may even risk burn-out. That last fate used to be far too common in the days before close supervision and tight deadlines. Researchers left completely to their own devices often got lost – many imagining that the degree required an impossible standard of perfection. As a result, numerous excellent projects were not completed, to the researchers’ own chagrin and dismay.

Nowadays, things are different, and university regulations explicitly stipulate that the final thesis should be judged against what can reasonably be expected at the end of three to four years’ work, in the case of a PhD. So it really helps to be explicit about expectations and time management from the start. The supervisor’s aim is to help the postgraduate finish a big project not only well – that goes without saying – but also within a specified time.¹

Time-keeping matters for both practical and intellectual reasons. People don’t have unlimited years and funds to produce their great work. And grant-funding bodies insist upon finite timetables. Furthermore, planning and revising a big work, under supervision, teaches the invaluable discipline of mental time management. No-one can hold the totality of 100,000 words of argument and evidence in the proverbial mind’s eye. Breaking a large project down into shorter sections helps. Often, the final argument will only begin to emerge through the process of writing several short sections. And sensible intermediate due dates, within an agreed framework, are mentally and organizationally helpful: when all’s said and done, there’s nothing like a real deadline.

Moreover, not only does producing a research thesis take a long time, but the finicky finishing processes, which involve checking and checking again, down to every last dot and comma, can also drive many people to distraction. The end so often seems near. Yet it often turns out not to be quite as near as hoped.

In fact, the very last stages are highly educational (see chapter 16). Returning to a chapter written perhaps two years earlier is a revelation, and usually reflects just how much progress has been made. Each near-to-final iteration produces a visible improvement, and sometimes a major leap forward. It takes a lot of effort and well-directed perseverance to get there, and even with hard work, no project will ever be absolutely perfect. But the process of getting it ‘good enough’ is part of the discipline. The challenges along the way are perfectly normal – and there are well-established ways of coping.

3.2 Shared monitoring of the state of play

Another framework rule thus follows logically. Researchers should report regularly to supervisors, who should help to ensure that the scale of the project matches the allotted time for completion. This point is particularly crucial. The research process will generate new leads, new approaches, new possibilities. Excellent. But the ‘exploding galaxy’ needs to be kept under control. Some possibilities may have to be ‘parked’ for post-doctoral research. Here the supervisor’s experience is useful in keeping the project under control.

Checking the timetable therefore requires regular consultation between supervisors and researchers, on at least a quarterly basis. Some institutions require a precise schedule of meetings – often monthly – with frequent reports, and specified levels of engagement to be achieved. As things progress, meetings and checks should become more frequent. At all points, discussions need to be based on frank disclosure. It’s fatally easy to kid oneself – and others. The worst thing is to claim airily: ‘Oh, it’s nearly finished’. Sometimes incautious listeners are convinced. But such vague assurances should be distrusted.

Hence, for any big project, it’s imperative to take stock realistically and, as needed, reconfigure either the timetable or the overall plan, or both. There’s no discredit in making changes. In fact, it’s a common experience, depending upon the availability and usefulness of the sources. Checking, reassessing, rethinking and, if need be, revising the plan is an integral part of creativity. It’s the equivalent of tending the fire; fanning the flames while preventing the blaze from either burning out or spreading out of control. It is also essential to let supervisors check output regularly. It is part of their job to help in sifting gold from the dross, and to enable researchers to produce the very best they can.

These days, indeed, most institutions of higher education encourage regular planning. And they provide a departmental or faculty review process, known as the progression or ‘upgrade’ viva, or oral interview. It’s essential to make that into a serious hurdle. It is usually held at the end of the first year, or in the first term of the second year. And it takes the form of an interview, with an experienced set of colleagues, to whom the researcher presents the thesis plan and a specified number of chapters (often the historiographical review and one research chapter). The format mimics that of the completion viva at the end of the degree, providing good advance practice.

If things are going well, then surmounting the progression viva will fuel the research fires positively. But, if there really are serious problems, then it’s best to acknowledge those problems and seek a solution. In some (rare) cases, researchers withdraw entirely and move on to something else. That outcome is tough. But it’s better for all concerned to realize before too much time and effort has been expended. Learning to weld ambitious dreams with practical realism is not just a good business or research skill – it’s a tool for life.

3.3 Negotiating the deadlines

To make the system work effectively, the researcher should always be working to an interim deadline, agreed with the supervisor. Such internal targets are all-important. Researchers should never be left drifting without knowing what they are doing next. The big project is accordingly sub-divided into standard stages, each being undertaken to a specific deadline. At each review point, the researcher will normally submit a written report or draft chapter, ideally completed to a high standard of technical presentation, complete with finished footnotes. But even if the work is not fully polished, it is important to get something on paper, and to meet intermediate deadlines. These early drafts will all contribute to the finished thesis. They are therefore ‘banked’ as components of the final text, for further polishing/amending at the very end.

Setting these interim deadlines is a matter for negotiation between supervisors and researchers. The supervisor should ensure that the targets are not unrealistic. But it is then the researcher’s prime responsibility to ‘own’ the timetable. If the deadline can be met, then all’s well. But if it proves unrealistic in practice (as frequently happens), then the researcher should take the initiative and contact the supervisor to negotiate an extension. It should not be a melodrama. Simply a notification that another week, or fortnight, or some other timespan is required. Supervisors will generally agree without question. The point is that researchers should never be allowed just to crash through a deadline without anyone noticing. That way there follows, after the initial illusion of relief on the part of the researcher, a deep demoralization.

In sum, purposeful research needs sensible deadlines, which are sufficiently flexible to take account of the vagaries of research. Finding new material and developing new ideas are big, challenging tasks which don’t necessarily run to strict timetables. But that undeniable fact does not mean that projects should drop off the radar. It just means that timetables and deadlines need adjustment.

By the way, it also helps if all postgraduate researchers are encouraged to keep closely in touch with their peer group. Facilitating wider contacts, within and outside the immediate institution, is a key task for supervisors, especially at the start. Averting isolation makes for happier and more productive researchers. Consulting with others, after formal seminars or after any informal gatherings, is a vital mechanism for getting and giving mutual support. (See too chapter 8 on using social media.)

Academic supervisors have many other tasks. They may well ask constantly how things are going. But they are not expected to give day-by-day direction. Sometimes apprentice historians expect too much top-down management and become disappointed when that’s not on offer. At other times, by contrast, researchers may be too obstinately independent, failing to benefit from the supervisors’ multifarious contributions, which range from monitoring progress to reading drafts, advising on seminar presentations and assisting with career development. The aim is a scholarly partnership. So, if there are times, between scheduled meetings, when further discussion is needed, it’s for the researchers to take the lead, contacting the supervisors as required. That’s good and normal. Cooperation, consultation and mutual debate are the keystones.

3.4 Writing constantly

Thus, researching and writing are the twin legs which enable history projects to advance. No supervised researcher should be without a target deadline for a forthcoming report, interim paper or draft chapter. Some supervisors go so far as to demand the production of a specific number of words per week – primarily to assist researchers to develop a habit of writing regularly. That tactic, however, may trigger empty waffle instead of high-quality thought. It’s best therefore for supervisors to provide a generalized encouragement to write, without micro-managing the process. But, to repeat, it’s axiomatic for historians that putting pen to paper (fingers to keyboards) – and in due course self-editing and revising – are integral components of the entire research process.

Why so? There are both practical and intellectual reasons. For a start, stringing words and paragraphs together to construct a book-length study takes a lot of time. The exercise entails ordering miscellaneous thoughts into a satisfactory sequence, marshalling documented evidence to support the unfolding argument and then punching home a set of original conclusions. It’s an arduous art, not an automatic procedure. In other words, the task requires not instant perfectionism, but a readiness to experiment with the art of drafting.

That’s because there is a key intellectual as well as practical reason for writing. It constitutes a mechanism for both producing and clarifying thought.² Indeed, ‘writing is thinking on paper’, as the American journalist and educationalist William Zinsser once averred.³ It’s a truly great dictum. Just as spoken language crystallizes instinctive feelings into expressed thoughts, so writing turns swirling thoughts into a considered analysis. History researchers need to think well, as they weld ideas and evidence together, and therefore they need to write – constantly. Part of that process means thinking of the eventual readers (usually defined as ‘intelligent outsiders’) and ensuring that they are given helpful definitions and signposts. (Further discussed in chapter 7.)

Ironically, while writing is a real aid to thinking, good thinking does not necessarily result in instantly good writing. The process of drafting very often serves to pinpoint arguments and to cue in relevant evidence. Nonetheless, early versions always need later revising and polishing, undertaken in the spirit of the good thinking that launched the writing in the first place.

Some researchers find it helpful to keep an interim research diary, to note down specific details on the research journey. These jottings may include meditations on problems encountered – and ideas of how to resolve them. It can also be useful to list points to stress in the eventual thesis conclusion. However, there’s no absolute rule. If keeping a diary becomes just another oppressive chore, then the proposal should be scrapped. The aim is to help, not hinder.

Of course, some evidence needs to be found before an analysis can be built upon it. ‘It’s a capital mistake to theorize before you have all the evidence’, as Conan Doyle once had Sherlock Holmes remark.⁴ But there should not be too great a delay between research and writing. In the ‘bad old days’, history students, who were left without close supervision, often fell into the trap of putting off most of the writing to the final year. Some researchers just fall in love with the archive and the process of research, making ‘writing up’ seem ever more daunting and distracting. But insights and knowledge are of little use if only one person knows about them. Ensuring that writing up is a continual and developmental process is the best way to avoid a sudden and frequently unworkable shift of gears.

It’s worth stressing once more: constant writing and constant thinking are integral to writing a big history project, which entails marshalling complexities. It can’t be done quickly. In some science subjects, it’s fine to write up experiments at the very end of the process. Then an informed critique of the applied methodology can constitute an important research outcome in its own right. Indeed, it can make a substantive contribution to knowledge, whether the experiment has succeeded or not.

However, historians gain no marks for research that leads to a null-finding. And historical methodologies that do not deliver significant results cut no ice. Thus any notional plans to undertake ‘writing up after all the research is done’ should be banished entirely from the historians’ programme. Such delays mean only that the trail has been allowed to run cold. Writing and thinking keep the research in constant gestation; and, simultaneously, such twin actions allow researchers to find and refine their own styles.⁵ (Further ‘how-to’ advice follows in chapters 7 on writing and 8 on using social media.)

3.5 Summary: fusing inspiration with organization

Grappling with a large-scale history project has been defined as moving a mountain of shifting sand with a teaspoon. Each particular move may seem futile in the face of the whole. Yet the pathway unfolds as the researchers move through the stages systematically, working to flexibly negotiated deadlines – and constantly thinking about both the mountain and the pathway.

Supervisors are there to share the task of monitoring constantly and to advise regularly. For them, the process of helping new researchers along the way can also prove fruitful. Postgraduates are invaluable members of the research community. They represent the future of the discipline. So supervisors also enjoy helping the process, as original knowledge is slowly germinated and translated into high-quality publishable material.

Then, in due course, completion will eventually achieve the mind-blowing intellectual combustion, fusing inspiration with organization, which the researcher hoped to achieve from the start.

1. 1  See G. Wisker, The Good Supervisor: Supervising Postgraduate and Undergraduate Research for Doctoral Theses and Dissertations (Basingstoke, 2012); J. Wellington et al. (ed.), Succeeding with Your Doctorate (London, 2005); and on time management, R. Krznanic, Carpe Diem Regained: the Vanishing Art of Seizing the Day (London, 2017).

2. 2  S. R. Horton, Thinking through Writing (London, 1982); L. Katz, Critical Thinking and Persuasive Writing for Postgraduates (London, 2018).

3. 3  W. Zinsser, On Writing Well (London, 1976), p. vii.

4. 4  A. Conan Doyle, A Study in Scarlet (London, 1887), repr. in The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes (London, 1981), p. 27.

5. 5  J. Scott, Creative Writing and Stylistics: Creative and Critical Approaches (Basingstoke, 2013); D. N. McCloskey, Economical Writing: 35 Rules for Clear and Persuasive Prose (Chicago, Ill., 2019).