Thinking about a PhD? Your biggest questions, answered

Anthony Bourdain’s 2000 memoir Kitchen Confidential helped reframe the way the public thinks about restaurants and food. Darren Lipomi, the Arthur Gould Yates Professor of Engineering and chair of the University of Rochester’s Department of Chemical and Sustainability Engineering, hopes to provide a similarly frank and authentic look at the lives of academics.

For nine years dating back to his time as a faculty member at the University of California, San Diego, Lipomi has provided honest, unfiltered advice for aspiring graduate students through his Molecular Podcasting podcast and YouTube channel. This summer, he published Science Nonfiction: Behind the Scenes in University Research (Buckland Creek Press), a memoir tracing his path from a self-described “nerdy kid” to his current role as a distinguished professor at a top-rated R1 university.

Lipomi argues that one of the most misunderstood parts of academia is the life of a doctoral student in science and engineering. While he could not imagine his life without that formative time as a graduate student, he hopes to give more prospective PhD students a clear-eyed look at what the commitment entails.

Is a PhD worth it?

• Yes, but only if you are passionate about research and consider the tradeoffs and career paths. Graduate school is significantly different than pursuing a four-year undergraduate degree.

Lipomi: Yes, but only if you love research. Graduate school shouldn’t be treated as a continuation of your four-year degree. There are not many classes or exams after the first few semesters, and your grades are mostly unimportant. The PhD is a research apprenticeship that consumes most of your mental bandwidth for four to seven years. It is more demanding than a full-time job (if not in hours, then certainly in the way it occupies your mind). Even when you’re not physically in the lab or analyzing data, your project may end up consuming your thoughts.

The consuming nature of PhD work is also what makes it rewarding along a few different vectors. For example, a PhD may lead to a greater degree of intellectual autonomy, a salary premium later in your career, and the potential to manage teams. But it comes at a huge cost: time, opportunity, and emotional stability. If your sole motivation is to become a professor, take a sober look at the numbers. In the natural sciences and engineering, only about 12 percent of PhDs will become tenure-track professors.

If you’re intensely curious and willing to forgo significant earnings in your prime years (and if you legit can’t imagine doing anything else), then by all means do the PhD. This was me, and I can’t imagine a life not having done it.

How should I choose a PhD program?

• Consider the program’s prestige, the student experience, the size of the program, and how closely you want to be mentored. Ensure the university has multiple faculty you could see yourself working with.

Lipomi: There are two poles of thought: the most prestigious school you can get into, and where you think you will have the best experience. They are seldom the same place. It is true that a diploma from a highly ranked school can open doors. Top departments have labs with lots of funding, large networks, and access to lots of high-quality (read: expensive) equipment. But if you’re fortunate enough to get into a “top-five” program, beware that you may see your advisor rarely. I spoke to my advisor at Harvard about science maybe once per year. In contrast, I chatted with my own students at UC San Diego, and now at the University of Rochester, at least once a week, if you combine formal and informal check-ins.

Most students learn best with regular guidance, and they may do better in a smaller group at a school ranked outside the “top ten” or “top twenty” (rankings interpreted broadly). The premium of earning authorship of a few more papers with more attentive mentorship may indeed overcome the “name-brand” advantage of a prestigious institution.

And under no circumstances should you apply to a school where you are interested in the research of only one PI (primary investigator, or the lead scientist or researcher in charge of a project or grant). Even if they lead you to believe you’re guaranteed a spot, things can always go south. Grants can get canceled. The lab environment may change. The PI may get recruited to another institution. Or get in trouble with the law—seriously, this has happened. Hedge your bets by applying to places with a few PIs you could see yourself working for.

“The question isn’t usually whether the PI is smart, but whether they will help you flourish.”

How do I choose a PhD advisor?

• Look for evidence of their students flourishing or patterns of students leaving the lab early and try to understand why.

Lipomi: Choosing a PhD advisor is one of the most important career decisions you will ever make. Tragically, the system forces you to make it at a time when you have the least experience to make a good one. You are about to relocate your life, stake years of work on one relationship, and commit to a topic you, by definition, do not yet fully understand.

In evaluating the PI, you can assume they’re a competent researcher and topical expert. The question isn’t usually whether the PI is smart, but whether they will help you flourish. When meeting with prospective PIs, talk is cheap. Look for evidence. Did their former students end up in respectable scientific jobs? If the PI’s former trainees are not on the website, scour Google Scholar for the coauthors, and search LinkedIn for these people. Are they now working in places you aspire to be?

You may also want to find out about attrition. How many students have left the lab early? Did they master out, switch advisors, or quit the program entirely? Every lab loses people for legitimate reasons (I have lost a few), but patterns of attrition are ignored at your peril.

The empirical literature bears this out: A landmark National Academies study found that the quality of mentorship is the single strongest predictor of trainee satisfaction and career outcomes in STEM, ahead of institutional prestige or research topic. It’s not necessarily brilliance that distinguishes effective mentors, but clarity of expectations, regular feedback, and attention to you as a person.

What does “fully funded PhD” actually mean?

• A fully funded PhD means you will be modestly paid to pursue your PhD. Understanding the funding sources can be important for knowing how much you will be required to do other tasks, such as serving as a teaching assistant.

Lipomi: It means you don’t pay tuition to go. Rather, you get paid, though modestly. In the sciences and engineering, an offer of admission to a PhD program typically comes with your tuition covered, plus a stipend and health coverage. That support comes from a few sources that may rotate over your time in the program: your advisor’s research grants (student salaries are a direct cost on federal grants), teaching assistantships, and, if you win one, a fellowship.

What “fully funded” doesn’t tell you is how secure the funding is. Faculty expend four to six years’ worth of funding and mentorship per student they accept, and departments manage that commitment differently. At top departments with ample funding, you will seldom need to worry about having to do excessive teaching assistantships or about whether the group can support students year to year. Elsewhere, the mix matters more. For example, a student funded on a research assistantship gets paid to do their thesis work; a student who must TA every term is doing a second job on top of it. When you’re choosing among offers, ask current students how funding works in that lab, on the ground. That is, how many semesters do people typically have to TA? And what happens to students when a grant is discontinued or not renewed?

“When a project works—when you’re the first person to know something about the universe, however small—there’s nothing like it.”

Can I live on a PhD stipend?

• Yes, but understanding the cost of living where you go to graduate school is important because it impacts how comfortably you can live and how much you can save.

Lipomi: Yes, but the margin depends enormously on geography. Research universities tend to be in places where housing costs are high. A graduate student stipend in La Jolla or Berkeley barely covers rent. It’s definitely not enough money to start paying down your student loans from your undergraduate days. But you will almost certainly get out of debt eventually after obtaining your PhD.

The first lever you have is limiting your consumption. Graduate students start with an advantage in that they already know how to live cheaply. Some of my favorite clothes and furniture items (even today!) I got at thrift stores. I do half my shopping at a discounter like Aldi, and I make my own coffee at home. You certainly can’t be expected to start saving for retirement in graduate school, but if you can, take $50 or $100 per week and put it in a low-cost index fund. The goal is not to get rich in graduate school, but rather to get experience with investing so that when you finally have marginal income, you spend less time figuring out what to do with it.

I’ll add one caveat: The ability to save anything at all during graduate school is not a given. Students who carry undergraduate debt, support family members, or come from households without a financial safety net face a fundamentally different situation than someone whose living expenses are fully covered by a stipend. For some, the first priority will simply be stability, and that’s OK.

What is research really like?

• Conducting research can be thrilling and frustrating, but with uncertainty a constant. The satisfaction of making a novel discovery is indescribable.

Lipomi: In your undergraduate studies, homework and exams had right answers. In a research project, there is no such bedrock of stability. Your hypothesis may be wrong. You may work for months on an experiment that doesn’t work, and it may be difficult or impossible to figure out why. The reward system of science is delayed and uncertain. You can wait 10 months for a decision on a grant proposal and ultimately get denied. When things finally succeed, the satisfaction lasts a few days.

It’s also not the long stretches of quiet, focused work people imagine. Graduate school is full of interruptions: your instrument breaks down, your PI needs a figure for a grant, the referee reports for a manuscript arrive, or a simulation crashes your laptop.

So, why do it? Because science is human. The same forces that govern every social system—trust, persuasion, empathy, conflict, power—govern research as well. If you’re like me and most other humans, you flourish best when you are part of a group making common cause toward an impactful purpose. When a project works—when you’re the first person to know something about the universe, however small—there’s nothing like it.

What can I do after a PhD?

• The professional possibilities are more than just becoming a professor.

Lipomi: More than you think. A PhD can lead to paths other than becoming a professor, most more lucrative than academia—industry, government, policy, and entrepreneurship. If these are your goals, avail yourself of opportunities to develop those interests: internships, business training, industrial networking events, professional development seminars, and involvement in patenting and licensing. My own career was transformed by a “mini-MBA” program I completed as a postdoc (a temporary, paid research position after completing doctoral studies).

The handful of students I know who gained industry experience during their PhDs all found it invaluable. And the degree itself carries a signal: The PhD earns a salary premium after graduation in part because it signals commitment. A future employer knows that obtaining the degree involved more work than most entry-level jobs in your discipline.

How long does a PhD program take?

• It depends on your personal habits and your advisor, but ideally a PhD program is completed in 4 to 6 years. Pro tip: Don’t wait until the end of your project to start writing—instead, write as you go to reap the benefits.

Lipomi: Four to seven years, and ideally no more than six. Such is the timeline around which departments plan, because faculty invest that many years’ worth of funding and mentorship per student.

Where you land in that range depends a lot on your advisor and your habits. Three of my first four graduate students defended their PhDs after only four academic years or less. On the other end, when I was in graduate school, a friend who sat behind me had an advisor whose turnaround on manuscripts was dismal—it often took several months to get something back. He eventually switched projects, and the work that made up his thesis was all accomplished in the last two years of his PhD, which unfortunately took nearly eight years.

The single habit that compresses the timeline most is writing throughout a project rather than at the end. When you start your paper early and drop material into your draft as you go (i.e., outlines, figure captions, brief interpretations), you clarify your thinking, focus your workflow, and give your advisor something to react to.

What is the work-life balance like as a PhD student?

• Balance is achievable with healthy habits, but those exhibiting warning signs of anxiety or depression should seek help.

Lipomi: The conditions of graduate school amplify anxiety, perfectionism, and feelings of being an imposter. Also, individuals drawn to science tend to exemplify these characteristics. Indeed, reports indicate that up to 50 percent of PhD students experience anxiety or depression, and a survey published in Nature Biotechnology found graduate students were six times more likely to experience anxiety and depression than the general population. As a fourth-year graduate student, I suffered a bout of extremely troubling cardiac arrhythmias, hundreds per day, that a battery of tests ultimately traced back to stress. Scientific success appears to reward self-sacrifice, and exhaustion is easy to mistake for dedication.

That said, balance is achievable, and much of it comes down to the environment you choose. When visiting prospective labs, I wouldn’t ask the current graduate students if the lab is the place to go for “work-life balance” (some will interpret this question as unserious). Rather, ask what the group does for fun. You will get the same information, and a better answer. Make silent observations: Do the members of the lab seem healthy, physically and mentally? Do you see evidence of trust and openness?

And practice self-compassion. That doesn’t mean lowering standards. It means remembering that you are worth more than your output. For example, extend to yourself the same empathy you’d offer a struggling colleague. People who feel safe make better collaborators. Labs that practice kindness make better science.