Viva Reax

Rant Warning

God, what a day! I feel physically and mentally exhausted. Today was supposed to be the sweet culmination of two-and-a-half months of slogging. It didn’t quite work out that way. I had high hopes of my PhD progression viva. I didn’t expect the examiners to lavish praises on my progression report (although that would have been welcome) but I did expect some thought-provoking constructive feedback. Instead, they dismissed my ideas and tried to convince me to radically change my approach. If I were to follow their suggestions I would be doing a different PhD. They didn’t really engage with or critique my work, but dismissed it outright. I suppose either my PhD will have to change or my examiners will have to change and at this stage I can’t figure out which one it will be.

In hindsight, the signs were there all along. Their praise for my presentation yesterday seemed half-hearted. 

I am going way off the beaten path in my PhD, so there is always the fear that what I am doing is total nonsense. So, outright dismissals of my work always hurts, especially from heterodox economists who one expects to be sympathetic. Of course, I don’t expect them to pull their punches for the sake of my ego. But, in the social sciences, epistemology (ways of knowing) and ontology (nature of reality) matters so much. A brilliant piece of work can seem like nonsense if you don’t accept its ontological and epistemological premise. The question of rigorous critique doesn’t arise.

I think I have a keener appreciation of these issues after doing the Ways of Knowing course. It helps partly explain the strong resistance once feels towards certain ideas and theories. Of course, ontology and epistemology don’t extend to emotions.

I still think it is worthwhile to engage in discussions with people who come from different ontological and epistemological positions. But, giving them power over your work is probably not a great idea. Today, I didn’t get any questions on my key concepts. I spent most of my time arguing why I didn’t want to do what they were suggesting. I admit I didn’t cover myself in glory, but I am at the early stages of my PhD. And, in any case, they didn’t seem very receptive to my ideas.

Maybe I am being oversensitive and need to handle criticism better. People are not always going to ask questions I like or would prefer to answer. Maybe it is a bit of both. I need to take criticism better and choose different examiners.

I am very passionate about what I do, which is probably why this is affecting me so much. Ah well, I guess there are much worse problems to have.

My Writing Style

When you read something you've written years ago, you secretly hope it is shit, so that you tell yourself that your writing has improved tremendously over the years. To my dismay, my piece about the time I lost my way in a Himalayan forest was not shit. It was overwrought in some places and tried too hard to impress with analogy and wit, but one the whole it was a pretty decent piece of  writing.
To be sure, my writing has improved--it now flows more smoothly. I attribute this to my years working for an American news publication. It was drilled into us that our writing had to be as easy to understand as  possible. We were encouraged to explain even complicated financial concepts in such a way that even our grandmothers would understand them. Leaving aside that sexist and ageist analogy, working there improved my writing. I now aspire for writing that shines with its simplicity.  To write words which come alive on a page, which stir something in the reader. Elegance, but no flamboyance.
I don't really have a different style for academic writing, and that has caused some niggles. On some occasions I have received feedback saying my writing style was too journalistic. I don't see that as a problem and seriously believe academics could learn a thing or two about writing clearly from journalists. Academic writing should aim to be as uplifting as a great piece of feature writing. All the great academic articles I have read have all been very well-written. In the social sciences, writing is very important.
The problem is journalistic writing tends to be too descriptive and not analytical enough. There is a tendency to present facts for or against a position without engaging with the theory surrounding that position. Academic writing, though, has no space for opinions. I am consciously trying to become a robust academic writer without forgetting the writing lessons I learnt in journalism.

The Night In The Forest

Today is my mum's birthday but, don't worry, I am not going to write another post about how my relationship with my Mom has transformed over the past year. Today is a special day for another reason. Fourteen years ago today, I got a second lease at life. That is quite a dramatic statement and I was in two minds whether to put it down, but since my blog is not widely read, why not? On 25th June, 2004,--which was my Mum's 50th birthday--a friend and I who had got separated from our trekking group the previous evening found our way back to civilization. We had spent the night shivering violently in a gorge, with a waterfall thundering next to us. It was the first time that I was truly scared for my life.
After we made it back I wrote an essay describing the night. Reading the essay excavated many significant details that had been buried in my memory. If I had been a better writer, I would have been transported back in time to that night.
At the end of the essay, I reflected on what I had taken away from it. Someone--I can't remember who--told me that such experiences can teach one a lot about life.
The first lesson was very carpe diem-esque. I realized that I desperately wanted to live and grab life by the balls even though the previous year had been miserable. I also resolved to "take myself less seriously, and take my life more seriously"--whatever that meant. That might have been my adolescent angst talking, but that angst lasted through my early twenties. While my life, especially my career, stabilized thereafter, it was not until last year that I got the full measure of my angst and started to do something about it. 

Eye Contact

The first thing I noticed when I traveled to Italy was that people don't avoid eye contact. Some of them even smile at you, even females. It felt weird to be in a place where people are not trying to actively avoid looking you in the eye. India is, of course, the opposite of England, with people sometimes openly staring at you. And if you think you can get them to stop starting by staring back at them, think again. People in Indian cities stare less though, and young girls avoid eye contact, presumably because they don't want to attract unwanted male attention.
But, in England, I often feel visible and invisible at the same time. Visible as "the other", invisible as a person. Other friends who have lived in the West report the same feeling, which is a difficult feeling to explain. It is as though people either look through you or when they look at you, there is a hint of disapproval etched into their alabaster faces. Body language can make  such a difference. The English are, of course, extremely polite and its not uncommon to hear "Please" or "Thank You" half a dozen times in a minute-long conversation. But, the politeness is usually combined with a cold body language or an artificial smile, which doesn't warm the cockles of your heart. 

Dog Days of Summer

I was cycling back from uni this evening and passing through the park next to my house when a dog jumped in front of me. I braked but couldn't avoid hitting him and the impact or the fright tossed the blasted critter into the small river that runs along the path. The two women who were walking it starting screaming and swearing at me, and we had a spirited screaming match for a few minutes. The dog managed to clamber out of the river unaided, so I suppose he was okay. But, it could have been much much worse. 

I suppose if I had at least fallen from  my cycle, I wouldn't have borne the brunt of the dog owners' wrath. In hindsight, I can understand their reaction. Their dog could have been badly injured. I was quite shaken up as well and reacted to their rage with rage of my own. I am relieved that I wasn't abusive and glad the conversation didn't take a racial turn. I am not proud of the way I reacted but it happened so fast that I had no time to think. 

I don't know who is at fault although I could have been more careful by ringing the bell. It is unrealistic to expect middle-class owners with a heavy sense of entitlement to have their dogs on a tight leash in the  park, just as it is unrealistic to expect cyclists to slow to a crawl every time they pass a dog. I guess cyclists just have to accept it and be the adults in the room. I guess the only thing I can do is use my bell more and slow down more while I pass dogs. I suppose I am going to assume that every dog I pass in the next few days is going to jump in front of my  bike. As it happens, I lightly collided with a dog at the exact same point a couple of months ago. I realize that however careful I am, I could hit a dog again. The only thing I can do is to cover my backside by ringing my bell and going slower.

The Banality of Closeness

Observing close friends and lovers interact can often be a tiresome experience, because they are in a world of their own. They revel in each other's presence, not words or actions. Which is why, to an observer, their words and actions might seem irritatingly banal. He would probably judge them as banal uninteresting people, which would be his loss. 

What Do You Want?

At yoga this evening, the teacher asked us to sit opposite someone else and tell them what we want from life, if we so wished. I really dislike these "bonding" exercises that the teacher throws at us towards the end of the class every few weeks. Today's exercise was as awkward as I had expected. I was sat opposite to young girls who seemed to have a pretty good idea of what they wanted, even though it sounded really vague to my cynical ears. I mumbled something about wanting to be at peace with myself and went back to cringing. But, the question itself is quite an interesting one.
It came up frequently during my counselling sessions, and I quickly realized that figuring out what one really wants is no mean feat. Because to get to that answer, one has to penetrate the haze of what one thinks one should want. And that is extremely difficult if not impossible because we are social beings with wants and desires that are conditioned by our social milieu. The best we can hope for is figuring out what we need, what is likely to serve us at a particular point in life and what is likely to harm us. And that is slightly easier as we have past experiences to guide us. 

Choosing Tables

I am suffering from a mild case of post-vacation blues but one thing I don't miss is having to pick which table to sit at for meals at the summer school. It is such a complex decision that I am sure some mathematician must have come up with an algorithm for it. Pretty early on, I learned to avoid the Argentinian table because they would talk mostly about football, break into Spanish frequently, and apologize profusely for both transgressions. Of course, they were not always together, but when they were, they were best avoided. I also learned to avoid the Trento table as they clumped together and wouldn't mix much with the rest of us. But, even with those two rules, decision-making didn't become much easier. One had to pick a table where one is likely to have a good conversation. But, one couldn't pick the same partners over and over again for fear of seeming clingy, especially when there isn't anyone you get along with like a house on fire. Alas, the dance of decorum--jumping through hoops to keep people at a certain distance and certify your autonomy--which can only be abandoned in the presence of heart friends. Then, you sympathize with the misfits but don't want to be stuck at a table full of misfits because you would be bored out of your skull. And, then the million-dollar question. Imagine you enter the dining room and there are a few people already seated at different tables. Which table do you pick? If you pick one, would the other table be offended or relieved or (most likely) indifferent? Or should you start at new table, leaving it to fate to decided your dinner partners?
This is the overthinking over-self-conscious me and to be honest, I really wasn't tearing my hear out over this decision. But I don't think even the coolest cucumber at the summer school could deny that picking dinner tables requires some thought.

Summer School

I started writing this while I was sitting in a restaurant at Verona airport, waiting to board the flight back to London. The past two weeks feel like a blur and I suppose I will take some time to digest my summer school experience. It felt bittersweet as I was saying goodbye to the others. I didn’t make any fast friends and I won’t really miss any of them, but they were an amiable set of people. Wedded to their formal models but open to other ways of doing economics. What I noticed was that most of them were not really interested in social or political issues, so conversations would either be small talk or about economics. Which is fine, because that was why I was there. Talking to others gave me insights into the discipline and how it is practiced. I learned that epistemological differences—ways of knowing—are at the heart of the gulf between economics and the other social sciences. That gulf doesn't look like its going to be bridged easily.

I also found people strangely resistant to the term 'heterodox economics'. There was a sense that heterodox economics was just not rigorous enough and people preferred the term pluralistic economics, which I suppose means working to reform the mainstream theoretical tradition from the inside. Most heterodox economics follows the same methodological tradition--logical positivism--as mainstream economics but subscribes to alternative schools of theory. Critical social sciences, on the other hand, challenge the methodology of economics and are thus one more level removed from mainstream economics. 

What I learned is that the mainstream is more diverse and vibrant than the  heterodox schools would have us believe. I met a few fellow participants who had been disillusioned by their training in heterodox traditions and had shifted to more mainstream departments. I suppose they would characterize themselves as the critical approach to mainstream economics. 

It is an open question whether one should try to challenge mainstream economics from the inside or leave the umbrella of economics entirely. I don't think I can position myself tactically and would go  with my gut, which says that there is so many exciting ways to do economics that I shouldn't bother with criticizing the mainstream. Create, rather than critique. Leave the intra-disciplinary struggles for hegemony, which strengthen disciplinary boundaries, to other people, and look to swim in other disciplines. Don't advocate for interdisciplinary research, but do interdisciplinary research.  

Anniversary

Exactly one year ago, I saw my counselor for the first time and also started following Adrienne's Youtube channel for yoga. I am not big on anniversaries but this is a milestone to be celebrated. One year ago, I couldn't have imagined that life held so much possibility. While I was past the pits, the picture stilled looked bleak. Counselling and yoga lead me on a journey of self-discovery that has enriched my life beyond imagination. I was incalculably blessed to have the support of family, friends and colleagues, who, without exception, offered me only love and kindness, even if they  couldn't understand what was ailing me. 

My journey of self-discovery has helped me discover an inner kindness towards myself as well as the world. I am a better person as well as a better researcher than I was a year ago. Life is far from perfect and I am a different person than I was a few years ago. Sometimes that difference feels like weakness, especially during difficult situations that the old me would have confronted without missing a heartbeat. That old stoicism now feels like if not a lie, at least a coping mechanism that has stopped working for me. It was difficult to accept that anxiety affects me as stoicism was firmly built into self-image. But I have a healthier relationship with anxiety now as I am trying to listen to it rather than run from it. Anxiety is a peerless spur to action and  I am pretty certain I wouldn't have been able to get through the crazily busy past few months if not for occasional kicks on the backside from anxiety.

Post presentation

So, the presentation went off quite well. I was nervous before it, but was fine as soon as I started. The feedback was positive but wasn't particularly useful. For me, the presentation was more of a confidence-building exercise as I wanted to present before an audience of quant-oriented economists. I was the only one presenting today who wasn't doing anything quantitative and I felt a pang of inferiority immediately afterwards. As though, what I was doing wasn't substantive because there were no numbers involved. But, two people told me later that they really enjoyed my presentation, which pleased me. 

Hopefully,  my generation will tear down the Chinese walls between the various social sciences and make interdisciplinary inquiry a cornerstone of our approach. And I've made up my mind that I won't pander to expectations in my PhD. I have been through too much to compromise on my research interests. If I can't do what I want to do, I might as well drop out of the PhD programme. I also feel that these expectations are mostly in my mind. While people might themselves not take the path less trodden for a variety of reasons, they are supportive of those that do. That said, the going is tough and lonely for interdisciplinary researchers. One has to build a certain amount of resilience. 

Presentation

I am due to present my PhD thesis at the summer school two days from now, and my confidence is oscillating like a yo-yo. I am quite curious to see how it will be received. Sometimes, I felt it will be met with rapture, other times I feel it will be met with ridicule but chances are, it will be met with  indifference. Like a pebble falling into a pond, with the tiniest splash. We overestimate our importance in the lives of others, especially strangers. Sometimes the people around me feel so much smarter and more knowledgeable than me, at other times, it is the opposite. I am aware that I need to do this for myself, to build my confidence and I shouldn't really expect validation from this audience as they are outside my subject area.
At such times, I draw on the wisdom of Adrienne and remind myself to breathe."This is where I am and this is what I am working with". Or "Don't be so hard on yourself". These phrases might seem quite trivial but they are part of the yoga practice, which targets both the mind and the body. Which is what makes them special and solace-providing. 

Learning like a social scientist

I am having a lot of success rationalizing my excessive question-asking at the summer school. It just occurred to me that physical scientists (and economists) and social scientists of a critical bent learn differently. Scientists look for patterns and consistency, while social scientists look for chaos and inconsistency. Scientists look for solutions to problems, while social scientists look to problematize accepted wisdoms and  solutions. Which could be why social science students asks so many questions and scientists don't. It sounds like a rank generalization but I am going to leave it here.
Also, I have realized it is easier to asks questions in class than after class. In class, you ask a question, you get the answer or an admission or an evasion and you are done with it. No small talk, no trying to size up a situation and figuring out when to end the conversation. None of these skills come naturally to me, so I  am perfectly happy to run the risk or sounding stupid or arrogant with my excessive questions. I have just met one lecturer with whom I would have liked to have an extended conversation and I did. With the others, I am just not that interested in their topics beyond understanding in a very broad  sense what they are up to. 

Social Skills

I have sympathy for the socially excluded, as I have often felt isolated myself. In new surroundings, some people gravitate towards each other faster than others and that depends both on the nature of a particular person and the nature of the other people in the group. I have felt at home in some groups almost instantly and never managed to feel at home in others. Over the years, I have become reasonably confident of navigating in groups that are not my natural habitat, mainly because I have become more comfortable with myself and with spending time by myself without any bitterness or rancor towards the group that I don't feel a part of. But, I know what it feels like to feel alone in a crowd and I have sympathy for social misfits.

So, when one of the people in my group asked me if he could join me on my weekend plan I agreed. He is not a social misfit but what I would call a sensitive boy lacking in confidence, which could partly be because he is younger than me. And, while I like being by myself, my solitude is not sacrosanct. I can give it up if it makes someone feel less alone. Our little group grew and soon we were five.

One of our members is a weirdo, so I had sympathy for him. I would pull his leg because that is my way of making some people seem less annoying to me, but he didn't get my quips most times and didn't seem to mind when he did. We accommodated him and one of us even accompanied him to a museum he wanted to see while the others waited. And then, towards the end of the day, he just disappeared without so much as a by your leave. We waited for him to reappear and finally called him, which is when we learned that he was already on his way back.

We cursed him and got on our way, when he finally reappeared at the train station of our summer school. I had nothing to say to him and neither was I very angry. The others remonstrated with him but I just couldn't be bothered.  I suppose as you get older, you start to respond to more situations with indifference rather than anger. He certainly lacks in social skills but that is not my problem. Maybe he needs help, but I am not the one to help him. Not all socially excluded people are nice and I have little sympathy for those who are not. 

Asking Too Many Questions

I am one of the people who asks questions most frequently at my summer school, and I have already asked some stupid ones. I admit that all my questions were not motivated by an innocent and earnest quest for knowledge. I have sometimes asked questions to appear and feel smart.
But, today, I felt unusually stupid after asking questions about a topic that I  knew nothing about. Maybe it is arrogant to assume that you can get a basic understanding of every topic in macroeconomics. I just felt really stupid after asking the question and decided not to ask any more during that session. 
But, I don't want this to turn into a self-flagellation exercise. I am sure people don't as much thought to me and my questions as much as I think they do. I am sure most of them don't conclude that I am either smart or annoyingly arrogant. Another instance of a human putting himself at the centre of other people's existence. And I am not here to  win friends and influence people. I am here to enjoy myself and learn something in the process. And, I am quite enjoying myself.

Ways of Learning

I was talking with one of the guest lecturers at the summer school and he was saying he found it astonishing that PhD courses in England were just three years long. He was saying that it was impossible to learn much in three years and that we should be required to take more courses. I told him that I preferred the English system because I wasn't fond of taking courses. He basically scoffed at me, which would have been more annoying if I wasn't planning on criticizing his work in a forthcoming paper (I don't want to get pally with him for that very reason, and neither am I getting friendly vibes from him, so everything is as it should be).

But his reaction got me thinking about the purpose of teaching. Is it mainly to explain or to inspire? I feel above a certain level it is definitely about inspiring students to think bravely. My preferred learning strategy is reading something, writing about it and receiving feedback on my writing. Teaching, after all, is imposing one's interpretation on one's students. The students feel challenged to understand your interpretation and not the concept itself. This is not to say that teaching cannot be a learning experience for the teacher. And, may be I am being a little arrogant when I imply that I don't need a teacher to teach me. I guess what I am saying is my  bar for a good course is quite high. It must be inspiring, enlightening, and not just elucidating. 

That Familiar Feeling

My first few days among new people. Feeling like they are all morons, but a tiny bit jealous that they all seem to get along with each other. It happens every time and, yet, it feels like a novel experience each time.

I take my time warming up to people unless it is someone I instantly hit it off with, which  happens once in a few years. I know myself well enough not to chastise myself for acting and feeling like a loner. People never give you as much thought as you think. 

So, I  am just going to go with the flow. Our sit-down meals demand socializing but the rest of  the time is mine to do as I please. If I feel social, I will hang around after meals and if I don't I will excuse myself. I don't owe anyone anything other than basic courtesy.

There is a bit of a problem though. Another guy from India on the course sticks to me whenever he  can and now wants to do a group project with me. He is a nice enough and intelligent enough guy, but I feel quite disinclined to work with him. I don't want to tell him that and risk alienating a potential future contact. And isn't the point of these paid-for vacations to make contacts? On the other hand, if I am not working with him, I should tell  him sooner rather than  later, I suppose. He sent me a long email with ideas and about 10 readings, which almost made my knees buckle. I guess at times like  these the best thing to do is sleep over it.

All My Bags Are Packed

I am all packed and ready for summer school in Italy. Two weeks of macroeconomics surrounded by the Dolomite mountains. I am surprisingly unapprehensive about  meeting 30 fellow PhDs/early-career researchers and I suppose I have my meetup experiences to thank for that. If I can land up at a stranger's house in a posh neighbourhood for a meetup event knowing fully well that I might be the only non-white, non-Brit there and not just surviving but mostly enjoying myself,  I should be fine. And these are PhD students, so chances are they are even more socially awkward than me. I am a little apprehensive about the content of the course and the fact that it will be heavily modelling-based. A lot of it might just go over my head. But I am deep enough in my own research to know that what I am doing is not worthless. I will do my best to keep up, but I won't beat myself up for slipping. At worst, it will be a half-holiday in the lap of the Dolomites. At best, I will make new friends and connections, which might even lead to some collaborations. I am going to keep an open mind and an open heart. At the very worst, it will just be fodder for my blog.
Which brings up another question. I  don't know if I will be able to or inclined to blog or do yoga on my trip. Maybe I will decide to take a break from both activities that have served me so well this past year. But, even if I do, I am sure that I will be back.

Gratitude

This evening, I was looking through my yoga downloads wondering which video to do when I came across a gratitude practice. I immediately knew that was it. Last month was crazy. I had a lot to do--intellectual labour, emotional labour as some problems cropped up in my personal life as well as loads of running around to sort out  the logistics of my upcoming trips. I had to complete my paper, write up my progression report, hustle for my visa, deal with losing my wallet, dealing with being kicked out of our PhD room and also with a virtual stalker. But everything turned out fine and while my old friend, anxiety, called a couple of times, I never really reached the brink of despair.
Not only am I grateful for my good fortune but I am also grateful that I am learning to be kinder to myself when it feels like fate is turning against me or when I see the brink approaching.  Life is difficult, beset with problems, and we all have expectations and obligations--of ourselves and other people (and vice versa)--which we can't just wish away. But, I feel like we all can tinker with our lives to make them slightly easier. And, when the shit is raining down from the skies, a slight respite can be the difference between coping and throwing in the towel.
I am  trying to convince a friend that while it is difficult to control our thoughts, it is easier to identify our triggers/damaging behaviours and keep away from them. Of course, easier said than done and it requires self-discipline and supportive friends/family. But, with practice, we get better at it.
Another friend asked how I cope with my  wobbles. I told her yoga and blogging. I don't feel great after yoga session or after writing every blog. But, instant gratification is hardly the  goal here, and on balance, I can confidently say that my life is significantly better for having yoga and writing in it.
Has this blog become too preachy, sanctimonious even? I hope me talking about my own experiences makes my sermonizing more palatable. Or maybe it is making me seem even more self-obsessed. Well, in that case it is a good thing that I have such few readers :-)