The Oxford postgraduate is a curious, often overlooked, creature. We scarper the halls of each college, taking up library space that rightfully belongs to nineteen-year-olds with a Bridge hangover. If you think there’s not much that separates your own undergraduate experience from your long-gowned student colleagues, remember one key difference: it’s a lot less cool to smoke rollies and drink too much on a Tuesday night when you’re 26.

 

And if you’ve ever been on an expedition to your college’s MCR, you’ll see how much it resembles a nursing home; there’s only so much that free coffee and board games can do to take the edge off the existential dread felt when realising you’ve wasted precious years of youth and fifteen-thousand pounds (plus) on an education that isn’t functionally different to the one you already had.

 

But I feel postgrads get a hard enough time here, and so let me be a spokesperson for the geriatrics, the aspiring scholars, and the overeducated middle-class of the next generation. And let me tell you that we’re not all nerdy losers or overachievers hopelessly delaying entry into the “real world.” We have thoughts, feelings, hopes and dreams just like you, and hopefully these excerpts from conversations with my postgrad friends will prove that. (Unfortunately, all the DPhil students I approached either couldn’t spare the time or effort to reply with some short thoughts on their experience, which we can either read as the result of their crushing schedules or lofty self-importance, depending on how kind we want to be to them.)

 

People’s reasons for pursuing on advanced degrees are as varied as those undertaking them, ranging from Sophie’s (MPhil – Water Science, Policy, and Management) appreciation for an “opportunity to cross the boundaries of my discipline and immerse myself in a new way of thinking about the world and the underlying drivers of water challenges” to Sam’s (MSc Computer Science) matter-of-fact statement of purpose, “I felt there was a lot of computer science that I hadn’t learnt yet.”

 

Across the board, an enthusiasm for academia seems to be the driving force behind our academic pursuits, rather than the appeal of Oxford’s reputation (a concept foreign to many undergrads, I imagine). For George (Mst – History), “it was more the program that drew me to Oxford rather than the institution or prestige,” along with Freya (also Mst – History) who thinks the best bit of being a postgrad is that “most people unselfconsciously care about what they study and have the capacity to take interest in the work of others.”

 

But the demanding environment of the academic community may not be for everyone warns Marj (MSc – Maths): “I could see someone being truly miserable doing what I’m doing. I would recommend this route to my younger self, but I wouldn’t just blanket recommend it to everyone out there. Some people aren’t big fat nerds.”

 

That sense of misery could be compounded by a sense of the uselessness of one’s own research, as is often posited by those hoping to devalue the worth of university education, mostly in the humanities. But unsurprisingly, you’d be hard pressed to find a grad student arguing that the apparent pointlessness of their research means it shouldn’t be done. Even though Jude (MMath – Mathematics) points out that maths is “all made up” and that everyone in the department is at least a little “insane,” Maeve (MPhil – History) reminds us that “There is no real value inherent in any research. We’re all entitled to be as assured of our subject’s importance as we choose to be.” That’s a lovely thought. “Unless” she went on “you study Business at the postgraduate level, then you should be less self-assured and less talkative about your personal investment scheme and plans to revolutionise the technology sector.”

 

But although further study might be “for the love of the game”, so to speak, most of the people I spoke to have no intention of following on with a PhD or a career in academia. Maeve continued that academia is “scary” and “exclusionary,” and that “it’s easy to forget that the business of running a university directly conflicts with academia’s supposed commitments to honesty, integrity, diversity of thought and background, and intellectual growth,” whereas Freya believes “doing a PhD is one of the most self-centred things you can do, especially if you’re doing it straight out of undergrad and your mums paying for it. That’s fine but accept it and maybe get a job in a pub so that you are less of a dickhead and have been on a rota once in your life.”

 

So what do you do if you’re a final-year undergrad daunted at the prospect of the corporate job market, head over heels in love with your subject, or just need some time to grow before making a decision? Should you take the leap into postgrad, or should you take Freya’s advice and experience the thrills of being on a rota? Sophie had some advice: “I think it is important for perspective students to think about what they hope to get out of the academic journey here. At Oxford you will constantly have to weigh up what you want to prioritise, who you want to meet and learn from and what memories you want to make.”

 

Or if a grand evaluation of your ideal future and relationship with your peers is too much for you at this late stage of term, perhaps Charlotte (BCL)’s advice might be more helpful: “if you like the subject, why not?”

 

At the end of the day, it might just seem like Oxford postgraduates are just like everyone else: hanging around on the fine line between genuine academic passion and the simplistic desire to follow a set-out path. We may not be the future academics or industry leaders, but that doesn’t mean we’re just here taking up space. And if you feel the urge to join our ranks, know that you will find here a community of devoted—if slightly disturbed and obsessed—researchers, who even sometimes manage a decent conversation on topics outside of our disciplinary interests. Sometimes.∎

 

Words by Cameron Bilsland. Image by Pruneau via Wikimedia Commons.