16.1 The importance of the long, last steps

The first big rule is that finishing a big research project always takes longer than expected. Completion is inspiring, energizing … but simultaneously painstaking and nit-picking. Which means (to repeat) that it takes longer than expected. And, then again, longer than that.

There’s no doubt that the finishing stages can be very frustrating, both for researchers and for friends and family, who are often awaiting completion impatiently. Authors can particularly confuse themselves if they work on several different draft versions at the same time. The golden rule is always to mark obsolete texts as such (filing them separately), so that attention is focused upon the one top copy. Then it’s necessary to work steadily through the completion stages, since the quality of the exposition always improves during the last iterations.¹ Each run-through reveals the general argument more clearly. Rather as a sculptor sees, with each chip from the chisel, the finished statue emerging from the block of marble, so the historical researcher sees, with each concluding polish, the whole picture fall into shape.

Work for a doctoral thesis, which has to be of publishable standard, has to be as near perfect in content and presentation as possible. (In that regard, submitting advanced research is qualitatively different from submitting BA essays or MA dissertations, where different regulations apply.) Getting research work into its final form thus means checking every detail, down to every last footnote, plus every last dot and comma. What? apprentice researchers sometimes scream, incredulously: Every dot and comma? You must be joking.

Yet it’s no joke. Research work that is not properly presented is sent back unread by publishers and journal editors. And in the case of a doctoral thesis, the examination is a supreme test of presentation as well as of content. Thus, if there are some missing dots and commas, the examiners will furnish a list of points for correction before the thesis can be accepted.

Indeed, if presentation of the text of a would-be doctoral thesis is a complete mess, the examiners can ask for the entire document to be revised – rather than having themselves to list thousands of small errors. They are not proofreaders. So it’s vital always to check and then to check again, with the closest attention. Presenting research material to a high standard should have been inculcated from the very start of the doctoral programme. Yet any researchers who find that this aspect of their training has been neglected should not hesitate, even close to the end, to ask for suitable advice on improvements. It’s a learning curve up until the very last moment. Happily, these days it has become immeasurably easier to get the presentation right. Grammar- and spell-checkers provide technical proofreaders. Computer-generated notes and bibliography (see chapter 6) also allow materials to be compiled thoroughly and accurately. As a result, the technical quality of theses presented today is usually very good to excellent, to the joy of examiners.

16.2 Perfecting layout and presentation

Just as historical research combines practical and conceptual skills, so the presentation of research has to meet both practical and conceptual targets. Readers must not be distracted from the analytical flow by sloppy or inadequate layout, or by faulty referencing. Hence all text and supporting tables, figures, notes and any other documentation must be clear, accessible and pleasant to the reader’s eye. Specifically, too, all instructions from the relevant university examination board must be followed scrupulously. Each institution has its own set of requirements, which are clearly available, usually on a department or university website. Often, instructions are formulated according to standard publishing conventions, used globally, and it is also worth consulting standard reference works such as Butcher’s Copy-editing.² Yet there are sufficient variations between systems to make it imperative to check in close detail.

Headings and sub-headings should be in standardized format. Tables, illustrations, graphs, maps and all other visual materials should be clearly presented and labelled.

‘Widows and orphans’ should be avoided. That arresting phrase is the old proofreader’s term calling for corrections to page layout. ‘Orphans’ refers to the lonely appearance of a single line of text starting a new paragraph at the foot of a page, without subsequent lines in support. ‘Widows’, by contrast, refers to the dejected appearance of only a few words which may be marooned at the top of an otherwise blank page or column – say, at the end of a chapter. Reader-friendly page layout thus seeks to remove all jarring visual effects.

Modern word processors normally prevent ‘widows and orphans’ automatically, but won’t catch all infelicities. The location of tables and images can be particularly awkward. Making minor changes to correct the layout is an acknowledgement of concern for the eventual readership. It’s a task that needs to be completed at the very end, just before final submission of the typescript. Otherwise, the process of revising may accidentally produce a page layout that just doesn’t look right, and which can make the argument difficult to follow.

Spelling, punctuation and layout must also be checked systematically throughout, in accordance with the specified conventions. That task has been set not only to show respect for readers, but also to indicate that the researcher can successfully meet a professional requirement. The same point applies to the provision of thorough documentation in the form of notes (whether footnotes or endnotes). No joy is generated when and if authors invent their own system of annotation. Instead, the usual response is irritation.

Sometimes scholars have to grit their teeth when asked to follow conventions which they dislike personally. But readers need homogeneous texts, so that they can concentrate on the contents, and not get distracted by glitches or inconsistencies. Authors therefore have to bite the bullet and follow accurately whatever presentational conventions they have been asked to adopt.

As already stressed, the final formatting and polishing can take much more time than anticipated. It often takes multiple run-throughs of the chapters, separately finalizing the text, and then checking the format, layout and notes. Therefore researchers should never rush to tell the world that the task is done before it is absolutely done. Or, even worse, deceive themselves! Clear-eyed realism is useful at all times – and absolutely imperative when completing a major project, based on years of slog. By the way, it can be tedious, to put it mildly, to reread the umpteenth draft of one’s own work; and errors can slip past through sheer familiarity. Hence the advantage of getting the text read by supervisors and (if available) by critical friends with an eye for copy-editing.

16.3 Pulling the threads together

During the pulling of many threads into one big picture, it’s not usually necessary to remodel the entire text. A researcher’s general style and approach becomes apparent in the course of writing. And the constant review process means that the length, sequence and thrust of the different chapters should have been continually adjusted during the course of production.

Nonetheless, during the last iterations, there are some useful exercises that can be undertaken to pull the threads together clearly. It’s particularly helpful to review and adjust the full list of chapter titles and sub-titles, when appropriate. These need to be presented in a compatible style. They should signal an unfolding argument. As a general rule, too, they should not be too wordy, unless wordiness has been specially chosen for some particular purpose. In sum, the chapter titles should be neither too abstruse nor too simplistic. The aim is to attract readers and to signal them through the journey.

After that, it’s equally important to check the sequence of the research chapters. The early sections dealing with definitions and source surveys must retain their position at the start. Yet the thematic chapters may be subject to variation. Historical analyses do not automatically have to be presented as chronological narratives. They can appear as different thematic strands of an overall picture. Of course, the scope for changes won’t be infinite. Yet it may be that a late shuffling of the chapters, thinking about how to sustain interest, will improve matters. It’s also worth reflecting that sometimes material needs to be condensed or sections removed entirely. More is not always better.

Having reviewed both chapter titles and chapter sequence, it’s then helpful to undertake a very quick and targeted rewriting. A sequential check through the text should be done as impartially as possible. If there are beautiful sections which don’t really belong in the current study, then they should be axed and kept for later. Yet there may also be three or four key places in the study, which become apparent only at the end, where an important point should be highlighted or inserted, with a cross-reference to the general theme. Those iterated and reiterated punch-points help to knit the whole thing together.

It’s also good to check the final sentence of each chapter: is it clear and summative? And does the first sentence of the following chapter lead on positively, but without boring repetition? This particular exercise in checking/rewriting should be done relatively quickly and easily, right at the end. It emphatically does not call for new research at such a late stage. It’s a matter of checking for what film-makers call ‘continuity’.

In some old films, the checkers slept on the job, and characters in one frame wear clothing which doesn’t match with their garb in the next. Such vagaries can be endearing. One celebrated example is Cary Grant’s inconsistent neck-tie in his first long scene with Rosalind Russell in His Girl Friday (1940), a screwball comedy directed by Howard Hawks. The two stars joust verbally, as they represent a newspaper editor and his former ace-reporter who is also his ex-wife. Cleverly, the director has spliced the different takes together to produce a witty, supremely quick-fire dialogue. But the ‘continuity’ experts failed to note that Grant’s tie hangs in a different alignment from frame to frame. Perhaps its wonkiness is subliminally showing the editor’s agitation on re-encountering his ex-wife, who is about to marry someone else. Or perhaps the director prized the power of the dialogue over the visual impact. Either way, the blunder has become a known eccentricity in the annals of film.

By contrast, a research thesis does not get such indulgence. The calling-card of a doctorate is its precision and accuracy. Linkage exercises for clear continuity therefore add a fine corroborative polish to an unfolding argument.

16.4 Incorporating a self-reflexive statement

Crucial also in the very final stages is the exercise of self-reflexivity, which asks researchers to incorporate a short personal statement of their broad approach. The aim is not to write a full intellectual autobiography, although some historians later do so very interestingly.³ Instead, the intention is to frame the study by providing some key information about the researcher. These days, too, many institutions of higher education ask prospective students to supply ‘reflexive statements’ as part of their applications,⁴ as do numerous employers. Hence, for researchers, this exercise is a specific application of what is becoming a widespread practice of expressive self-awareness.⁵

Considered reflections often start by explaining how and why the research topic was chosen. They then note the broad approach, plus any special attitudes to gender, ethnicity, class, religion, politics or other big issues (as relevant), which might affect the overall analysis. This exercise in intellectual self-presentation is best done with a judicious combination of truth with tact. It’s not a moment for jocular self-deprecation, such as confessing oneself to be ‘an idle layabout’ or a ‘confused borrower of ideas from others’.

On the contrary, the self-reflexive statement should be probing and earnest, explaining the researcher’s intellectual journey. And, while generally written near the end of the project, it usually appears within chapter 1. Just to repeat: it’s best to avoid being too bland (unhelpful) or too chatty (annoying). Personal authenticity is what’s needed, in the spirit of the project that is nearing completion. (In all circumstances, it’s imperative to avoid online services offering phoney personal statements for sale. Fake identities and false credentials seriously corrode social trust.)⁶ Hence the best motto is the Shakespearian: ‘To thine own self be true …’, with literary tact and intellectual honesty.

16.5 Honing the conclusion

Writing the conclusion to a big research study is a particularly powerful moment. It often happens that the full import of the overall argument becomes apparent only at the very end, when all the material is brought together. Researchers should thus set aside some quiet time in order to read steadily through all the chapters, in their now final sequence.

This exercise is not a moment for brainstorming and deciding to do something completely different. Instead, it’s time for the closest of focus, thinking hard about the arguments and how best to conclude them. At this stage, it’s usual to find that very frequent consultations with supervisors are needed, for their experienced input.

It should therefore be no surprise to find that writing the final chapter often necessitates some adaptations or changed emphases to earlier chapters. That’s part of the editing process. In particular, it’s very common to find that, having written the last chapter, the introduction needs to be rewritten or adjusted as well. The research process constitutes an intellectual journey – and the first chapter may have pointed towards a destination which was not eventually the one that was reached. Such final changes are good signs that the research has achieved something new and initially unexpected.

While revising the final chapter, it’s useful to cross-check with any provisional big points that have been identified at earlier stages of the project – and jotted down in an interim research diary, if one has been kept (see section 3.4). In that way, researchers are reminded of their own accumulating thoughts. And the final advice to adjust or recheck the first chapter, which can seem like a drastic shaking of the foundations (rewrite chapter 1?!), can be implemented relatively rapidly and simply. Indeed, it can prove a pleasant, even cheerful process, as the initial stage-setting is aligned with all that follows.

So crucial is the final iteration that, while the early chapters should always be written to a high standard, they should not be considered as completed until the whole thesis is edited as one.

Through years of intensive work on a big project, individual researchers have genuinely become world experts on their subjects. The final summation records their working synthesis, on which they are willing to rest their case. (It’s not necessary to solve the mysteries of the entire universe. It’s enough to own one original foothold.) The final message should be crystallized into a magisterial last sentence. It can be short and snappy or gracious and balanced, as seems best. But not verbose, orotund and diffuse. And the final message must, of course, relate to the study’s overall findings.

There’s no point in giving a final flourish that flies off the point. A proportion of readers actually start by checking a book’s conclusion; and some read no more. If all they then recall is off the point, then the exercise has misfired. Conclusions should be definitively on message – and expressed with full conviction!

16.6 Summary: the final full stop

Completing a first big history project is a huge milestone for any researcher. It is therefore one to be savoured. Immediately, doctoral supervisors will be organizing the appointment of examiners, and advising on preparations for the viva (see chapter 17). Researchers, at the same time, may feel a tangle of emotions. Relief and happiness can battle with sadness at the end of a fascinating and absorbing journey.

Sometimes, researchers at the very last may be reluctant to let go, even if they have been dreaming of completion for months. These conflicting emotions are very human. Thus, while there is a syndrome known as fear-of-never-finishing, there is also a rival fear-of-actually-finishing.

Supervisors, with the help of colleagues in each department or faculty – and fellow students – should manage to diminish such apprehensions by normalizing the thesis production process. Researchers routinely start … and then routinely finish. Moreover, after completion there is immediately a new and quite different challenge: to present the research findings to the wider world (on which see chapter 18). Thus each ending can become another beginning …

1. 1  K. Guccione and J. Wellington, Taking Control of Writing Your Thesis: a Guide to Get You to the End (London, 2017); H. Kara, Finishing Your PhD: What You Need to Know (Kindle edn, 2016), for which see <https://helenkara.com/2016/09/14/finishing-your-phd-what-you-need-to-know> [accessed 30 April 2021].

2. 2  Classic guidance is provided by J. Butcher, C. Drake and M. Leach (ed.), Butcher’s Copy-Editing: the Cambridge Handbook for Editors, Copy-Editors and Proofreaders (Cambridge, 2006), and there are many web guides to professional presentation.

3. 3  For this genre, see Popkin, History, Historians and Autobiography; and R. J. D. Munro, Clio’s Lives: Biographies and Autobiographies of Historians (Canberra, 2017).

4. 4  In the UK, the Universities and Colleges Admissions Service (UCAS) provides a useful guide: <https://www.ucas.com/undergraduate/applying-university/how-write-ucas-undergraduate-personal-statement> [accessed 30 April 2021].

5. 5  A. Baron, ‘Get that job: personal statements’, <https://methods.sagepub.com/video/get-that-job-personal-statements> [accessed 9 Feb. 2022].

6. 6  See A. Attrill, The Manipulation of Online Presentation: Create, Edit, Re-Edit and Present (Basingstoke, 2015); C. Rosenthal and S. Schäfer (ed.), Fake Identity? The Impostor Narrative in North American Culture (Frankfurt, 2014).