Postgrad Chronicles #12: A Conversation About Job Security

Greetings, and welcome to another entry in my postgraduate chronicles. I acknowledge my absence over the past several weeks, but given that this blog lacks a formal readership or subscription base, it primarily serves as a space for personal reflection. Consequently, intermittent breaks seem inconsequential.

My decision to pursue postgraduate studies was motivated by a profound passion for science and research, coupled with the expectation of securing a research grant. As a contingency plan, I relied on personal savings. Since my research is predominantly computational, I am not burdened by frequent laboratory visits or the financial strain of acquiring physical materials. However, this is likely the reason I do not receive a stipend—at my institution, stipends primarily cover research materials, and most postgraduate students refrain from requesting additional funding, as institution-funded prototypes must be relinquished.

Unfortunately, the anticipated grant did not materialize, prompting discussions with my supervisor about whether I should expedite my research, obtain my degree, and transition into employment. Alternatively, given the computational nature of my work, I could maintain a job while continuing my studies remotely. Despite this flexibility, I find the laboratory environment invaluable, particularly the intellectual engagement with fellow researchers. However, to mitigate costs, I have relocated back home rather than continuing to rent near campus.

A significant challenge remains tuition. Without grant support, I must personally finance my research position. At my institution, a Graduate Research Assistant (GRA) receives full tuition coverage, provided they are grant-funded and maintain a minimum CGPA of 3.5/4.0. In contrast, a graduate researcher is not necessarily grant-funded and does not receive tuition coverage. I narrowly missed the tuition waiver by 0.02 CGPA. During the COVID-19 pandemic, I struggled with exams and chose to uphold academic integrity, refraining from unethical practices that many resorted to. Consequently, the grading curve worked against me. Physics students in my engineering-focused university faced additional challenges—our curriculum was often overlooked, and we were required to take rigorous courses such as Electromagnetism without adequate mathematical preparation. The prevailing justification was that "physicists possess a strong enough mathematical background and will manage." In reality, the physics cohort barely achieved passing grades, with an average performance of a C, while I barely secured a B. Courses such as Classical Mechanics and Statistical Mechanics further impacted my GPA. Historically, our institution has produced multiple physics cohorts without a single first-class honors graduate (3.67 CGPA), and only about 15% exceed the 3.5 CGPA threshold. This is not an excuse but rather an explanation for why many physics graduates seek externally funded research opportunities.

Despite these academic hurdles, I pursued a postgraduate position in biophysics and statistical mechanics, although my true interest lies in computational physics and artificial intelligence. I submitted my research proposal and was accepted—albeit without financial support.

Now, my supervisor believes my project has expanded beyond the typical MSc scope and is encouraging me to transition to a PhD, still without a research grant. This presents a significant decision. At this juncture, the title itself holds little importance to me. My initial motivation was to immerse myself in research for a few years before transitioning into industry. My brief work experience prior to university was uninspiring—monotonous, repetitive, and devoid of intellectual challenge. I found the corporate environment stifling, where social interactions often seemed performative, dictated by power dynamics rather than genuine engagement. Consequently, I chose to explore academia first, postponing my inevitable confrontation with the corporate world.

However, I underestimated the financial strain. My savings have depleted more rapidly than anticipated, and securing employment has become imperative. My Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) venture has not been profitable—my reference books are concise, serving more as conceptual bridges than comprehensive textbooks, making them difficult to market. Meanwhile, my fiction novels failed commercially due to a lack of reviews and minimal visibility, resulting in no sales outside of promotional periods.

While many students rely on parental financial support—jokingly referred to as the "FaMa grant"—this is not an option for me. My father, having endured financial hardships as a businessman, firmly believes in self-sufficiency. He asserts that while he has the means to assist, he will not do so unless I secure employment.

The reality is that my decision to pursue academia was not solely driven by passion but also by the limited employment opportunities available to physics graduates in my country. Employers do not perceive physics degrees as valuable; they regard physicists as underqualified engineers or redundant data analysts. Many of my peers have turned to research not by choice but by necessity, as the job market offers few viable alternatives. When I selected my undergraduate program, employment prospects appeared promising, but the evolving job market has largely confined physics graduates to roles in education or sales—far removed from my aspirations.

Furthermore, postgraduate degrees do not guarantee employment. In many industries, advanced degrees are perceived as liabilities rather than assets. Employers often favor fresh graduates over those with research experience, viewing the latter as overly specialized, expensive, or independent-minded. Human Resource (HR) departments frequently misunderstand the qualifications of physics postgraduates, leading to arbitrary rejections. Many graduates find themselves trapped in a paradox—deemed overqualified for entry-level positions yet insufficiently experienced for higher roles.

Moreover, salaries in academia and research are generally uncompetitive unless one secures a stable, grant-funded position. Many postdoctoral researchers face precarious employment conditions, reliant on temporary contracts, while tenure-track positions remain exceptionally scarce. Even outside academia, PhDs often find themselves relegated to low-paying, contractual research roles because industries fail to recognize the breadth of their expertise. Despite this reality, the prevailing societal narrative persists: "Higher education leads to better career prospects." In practice, this assertion is often misleading.

While I acknowledge the importance of developing a strong professional portfolio to enhance employability, the hiring process often prioritizes self-promotion over substantive qualifications. HR departments tend to favor candidates who excel in persuasive rhetoric over those with demonstrable analytical expertise. In many cases, an overly optimistic demeanor is preferred over critical thinking, even in roles that demand rigorous analysis. Corporate environments often prioritize conformity and interpersonal appeal over technical acumen. While company culture is important, an excessive emphasis on charisma at the expense of competency is detrimental. Job applicants who critique company policies during interviews are frequently dismissed, yet such critical perspectives often stem from diligent research and a genuine interest in problem-solving. Furthermore, introverted or socially unpolished individuals are often overlooked, despite possessing the technical expertise necessary for innovation. Businesses must strike a balance—while sales-driven strategies generate revenue, a disregard for technical rigor ultimately impedes long-term progress. Organizations must move beyond the notion that individuals with sales acumen can seamlessly transition into specialized technical roles.

Many assume that securing employment is a straightforward process—submit an application, attend an interview, receive an offer. However, job selection involves more than financial compensation. The first job significantly influences career trajectory. If I were to accept a teaching role, transitioning into semiconductor research, data analysis, or industry-based research would be difficult. HR departments would likely fail to recognize my relevant expertise. Conversely, obtaining a technical position before transitioning to academia would be easier, as industry experience is often valued in education. Thus, for those not facing immediate financial constraints, the first job should be chosen strategically rather than out of sheer necessity, as it may shape future opportunities.

Ultimately, I recognize that my frustrations may stem from personal experiences, and others may have smoother employment journeys. If my perspective seems overly pessimistic, feel free to disregard this post. For now, I must navigate the delicate balance between research and financial sustainability. The path ahead remains uncertain, but I remain committed to seeing where this journey leads.