Quitting, shame, and outlook for a sociology phd dropout ?
Hi all. I'm a first-year PhD student in sociology in my home country (Europe). I'm pretty much set on quitting before re-enrollment at this point and have started job searching. This has been a really difficult time, so I'm here to hear how things have gone for others and to get any advice really. I also feel like I need to share my experience somewhere before leaving. Unfortunately, I haven't managed to build a supportive network of peers within academia for this kind of request, so I'm hoping it can happen here :) I also don't feel ready to share this with my friends and family outside academia.
Here's a bit of context (I'd rather not include any identifiable info, sorry for the vagueness of it all)... I've wanted to pursue a PhD and work in academia since basically my first semester of undergrad and properly engaging with sociological research. I started studying a bit later than usual as I worked in retail and in a charity and travelled for some time after leaving high school. No one in my family had studied or even graduated from high school so it just wasn't a given for me, and I felt very uncertain about it at the time, which was compounded by poor mental health. Studying sociology was truly emancipatory for me and I did end up doing very well throughout my BA. In turn, this made be feel better and like I had found my path.
I worked in the charity sector for about a year after my BA and was accepted into a very selective master's in social sciences (our equivalent of an Ivy institution). The environment was intellectually challenging, which I loved, but it was also soul-crushing on many levels. Professors instilled a toxic competition for future opportunities including PhDs within the cohort from the first semester of our 2-year program. Unsurprisingly, there was a significant proportion of nepo baby scholars and other privileged students within that program who knew how to navigate that, creating a rift within the cohort. Being about 3 years older than most helped me steer clear of the pettiest aspects of it, but I was also made to feel like I was behind on everything, including by graduate instructors (who had come out of that program, of course). One of them joked about being the same age as I was and towards the end of his PhD while supervising a group of us doing field research. It also took me 3 whole months to figure out that the only reason everyone kept asking me if I was an exchange student was that I was the only black person on that program and one of the few attending this institution 🥲 I was born in that country. I once had a professor tweet a quote of something I had said in class, mocking me on his very public profile, because I was expressing a methodological/ethical disagreement. I had admitted during the seminar that it was poorly phrased and reframed it on the spot. I didn't have Twitter and found out about the incident months later while others were discussing it at lunch. I could go on... I kept going anyway because I genuinely love research, was getting excellent results, and receiving positive feedback about my work from other professors who encouraged me to pursue a PhD and publish my master's thesis findings. And so here I am.
I stayed at that institution, which I guess was my first mistake, and I managed to get 3 years of funding, working with a supervisor I had a lot of respect and admiration for upon starting. Before I had even signed my contract, this person failed to complete her side of the admin duties regarding my enrollment and departure abroad for fieldwork, which meant that I almost lost said funding and contract. Instead of coming clean to admin services, she threw me under the bus with an email stating that I had not reached out to her about any of it. She accidentally ccd me in that email. I was able to produce evidence that I had met with her 3 months earlier and submitted all required paperwork, as well as asked repeatedly if anything else was needed on my part. The assistant director of that institution emailed me back saying that the situation would be resolved, but that one does not start a PhD by "betraying" and "accusing" their supervisor. This almost made me quit, which I expressed to my supervisor, who told me I was lucky enough to have gotten funding and should not blow it. I somehow decided the research project was worth it and hyped myself up again. I told her I was ready to move forward and was not holding any grudges. She did apologize for "the misunderstanding" and asked if I was still willing to work with her. The truth is, I no longer had the mental bandwidth to look for someone else, explain that whole story etc. I also feared retaliation on her part if I decided to swap supervisors, knowing she is fairly influential in my subfield.
It's been a year since this incident; my research is progressing normally, though I've had to review my original project and I'm not as passionate about its current form (I understand this is the normal process of things). I've managed to publish a paper and submit another one over the last year. I also taught a course in pol sci, which I truly enjoyed. However, I feel like something really broke in me over the last few months. My passion for research no longer outweighs my discomfort with academia as a working environment. I keep witnessing the same inequalities, dismissive and/or unethical behaviours, and simply unhappy, overworked individuals antagonizing their peers.
I'm also beginning to feel the effects of institutional dysfunctions. For example, I was contacted a week in advance for the course I taught because they apparently didn't have anyone, and told the syllabus was ready. Only to be sent, I kid you not, a one-page word doc with 12 bullet-point titles for each session and 6 completely outdated references that had no internal coherence. I spent the week crafting a syllabus, trying to get a hold of my student list and my classroom number. The convenor for the course had no idea and could not find time to meet me throughout the entire semester. I got an email 2 hours before the class, finally letting me know which room I had been assigned. I honestly feel I could withstand these conditions if there was any spirit to fight back against the current state of public universities and academia in general, but people are too busy fighting for scraps in the form of the 122nd funding application, struggling to stay afloat, and often blaming those who do try to fight back.
My supervisor is also pretty nonchalant about actually supervising, with most of our meetings consisting of life stories and anecdotes of her own research without truly engaging with the difficulties I'm bringing up and notes I'm submitting. Recently, as I was explaining some very worrying political developments which hinder my fieldwork and have life-threatening consequences for people I know, her first reaction was to nod and say something along the lines of "write this down as it will make for very interesting future projects". I understand that we are moved by intellectual curiosity but this felt incredibly tone-deaf and extractive. Along with other weird interactions, it makes me fear that I'm her token diversity student studying something "unusual" and I've realised I may be read as such by other members of our lab. Jason Arday's trajectory does loom here and I'm finding myself once again questioning whether I actually belong in academia at all.
My mental and physical health are dwindling, and I'm also increasingly frustrated with something I had refused to confront up until now: the huge opportunity and material cost that staying in academia entails at this point. I'm almost 30 and realistically won't graduate with my PhD before I'm 33-34. By then, I don't think I'll want to stay in academia, and even if I were to, the prospects are grim; I might not have any shot at a somewhat stable position before my 40s. I'm currently paid a bit above minimum wage, with student debt (manageable, about 200 euros/month) to pay off and having to help support my mother, whose pension is ridiculous. I only have funding for the first 3 years of my PhD and have to hope I secure a temporary teaching position for a year or so after that. Or I'll have to use up unemployment benefits while I write my thesis, which I might need in case I don't find a job immediately after graduating, which I probably won't. I know people currently in this position, and its depressing as hell.
I know a PhD is experience in a way, but if we're honest, it's not treated as such by recruiters. I feel like pivoting back to the non profit/policy sector at least temporarily now is achievable, having some experience and a master's, but if I wait for 5 years, I expect it will be significantly harder. What are your experiences with this? And what do you think my prospects are now? I'm still considering other paths and retraining options.
I know the grass is not necessarily a whole lot greener as I've worked before, but I at least expect to relieve the constant mental exhaustion and feeling of not achieving enough. I know I had hobbies and cultivated other interests while I was working outside academia. All that being said, I'm struggling with the persistent feeling of failure that comes with this decision and would appreciate any advice or inspiration on how to deal with it ? I politically disagree with the idea that universities have a monopoly on knowledge production, and they don't, but I'm still paralysed by the fear of losing that access to intellectual stimulation and knowledge, even if I'm involved in initiatives outside the university. I'm also just sad that I can't finish this PhD as it had really become something important to me.
Thank you if you have made it all the way down here, I appreciate it.