I know most people outside academia thing university staff are on a long holiday between June and September, but that’s not the case. This week we have been trying to sort out some of the loose ends of Academic Year 2024/5 before we start on planning for 2025/6. The matters to be dealt with include undergraduate, taught postgraduate, and research posgraduate.
To start with I’ve had to mark my undergraduate repeat (resit) examinations. The grades need to be checked and uploaded before the appropriate examination board meeting next week. That will resolve a number of progression issues, as well as hopefully allowing some students to retrieve credit from their final year and thus be allowed to graduate.
Another set of tasks related to our taught MSc students. They submitted their dissertations on Monday which now need to be read and graded before another examination board (next Monday). They also have to do their presentations, which take place this Friday (15th August).
The following week, the School leaving certificate results come out, at which point we’ll start to get some idea of how many students we will have entering the first year in September.
Today I heard that my PhD student Aoibhinn, who passed her viva voce examination way back in May, has had her thesis corrections formally approved. She now has to submit a bound copy of the thesis along with an electronic version thereof by September 6th at the latest. Then her degree has to be approved by the Faculty of Science & Engineering (on September 16th) followed by Academic Council on (29th September). Assuming those formalities are observed, she can receive her doctorate at one of the conferring ceremonies at the end of October.
Another thing I heard today is that Aoibhinn has been awarded a prestigious research fellowship from the Alexander von Humboldt Foundation but she needs her degree certificate before she can start. That’s a stricter policy than elsewhere, but it is Germany. It’s a bit frustrating, but that particular loose end will definitely be tied soon enough, after which Aoibhinn will be off to Germany for two years. Fortunately the start date of the fellowship is flexible. Congratulations to Aoibhinn!
Yesterday evening on my way out for a meal I got talking to a couple of people who asked for directions. It turned out that they were on the National Famine Way which, to my shame, I hadn’t heard about. When I got home I looked up the website and decided to put it on my list of things to do. The question is whether I can fit it in before term starts near the end of September…
In a time filled with tales of hunger and hearbreak, the National Famine Way commemorates just one example of the cruelty inflicted on Ireland’s poor. No fewer than 1490 starving tenants of the Mahon estate at Strokestown were evicted from their homes then marched along the Royal Canal to Dublin, escorted by the Bailiff responsible for the evictions. At Dublin they travelled by steamer to Liverpool and then crossed the Atlantic on an assortment of coffin ships bound for Canada, about a third of them dying on the way. This was called “assisted emigration”.
The sorrowful journey of the emigrants is marked by 32 pairs of bronze sculptures of children’s shoes on the National Famine Way walking trail. There is a pair at Maynooth harbour, though I’ve never noticed it.
The 165km historical trail from Roscommon to Dublin weaves mostly along the Royal Canal , which passes through Maynooth. The trail starts in Strokestown Park at the National Famine Museum and ends at the Famine statues in Dublin Docklands, close to EPIC The Irish Emigration Museum, Dublin. On foot it’s a relatively gentle but long six days of walking, which will give me a chance to exercise my old knees as well as staying overnight few places along the way giving me the opportunity to see a bit more of Ireland. Being alongside the Royal Canal it’s very flat so, although it’s a reasonable distance each day, it shouldn’t be too strenuous.
Maynooth is the last stop before Dublin, actually, so I’ll be able to stay at home for the night before doing the final stage of 27km. I was a bit worried about getting to the start, in deepest Roscommon, but there is a bus from Maynooth that goes direct to Strokestown where the jouney starts. There are recommendations of places to eat and places to stay on the way so it should be fairly relaxed. At any rate it will certainly be more comfortable than the journey of the poor souls that made the same trip in 1847, at the height of the Great Famine.
P.S. Come to think of it, I might just do the 27km from Maynooth to Dublin one day just to check out if my knees can take it.
You can see that I haven’t seen that much of the world. In fact the map exaggerates what I have seen, because the only place I have visited in Canada was Toronto (and some places to the West of that); I have visited the USA too, but not Alaska. Likewise the only bit of Australia I’ve visited is Sydney and environs.
Anyway, I saw a thread on BlueSky yesterday which was asking people what was the furthest places on land they have visited North, South, East, and West. Here are my answers:
North. Tromsø (Norway), Latitude 69° 39′ N;
South. Cape Town (South Africa), Latitude 33° 55′ S;
East. Sydney (Australia). Longitude, 151° 12′ E;
West. San Francisco (USA). Longitude, 122° 27′ W.
I was initially tempted to put Nagoya (Japan) as my furthest East, but at a mere 136° 55′ it’s nowhere near as far East as Sydney. I wasn’t sure which of Sydney or Cape Town is furthest South either, but Sydney is just a little further North (33° 52′). I went to Tromsø years ago for an Aurora watch, which was great fun. Other than that my furthest North is Reykjavik (Iceland). Many of my observational astronomy colleagues will have been to Hawaii, which easily beats me in the westerly direction. Others have been to Antarctica, which beats me down under.
So my span is about 270° E-W (maximum of 360°) and about 103° N-S (maximum of 180°). Not that impressive really.
Anyway, should you be so inclined, feel free to add your own extremities via the comments box!
Today, Monday 4th August 2024, being the first Monday in August, is a Bank Holiday in Ireland. This holiday was created by the Bank Holiday Act of 1871 when Ireland was under British rule. While the August Bank holiday was subsequently moved to the end of August in England and Wales, it has remained at the start of August in Ireland.
We have had some proper Bank Holiday weather, in the form of Storm Floris. Although the worst of this passed to the West of Maynooth, the winds were powerful enough to blow one of my wheelie bins over.
As I mentioned last week, the first day of August marks the old pagan festival of Lughnasadh, named after the God Lugh, on which is celebrated the beginning of the harvest season. This coincides with the English Lammas Day, one of many Christian festivals with pagan origins. Traditionally this is the start of the harvest season and is celebrated accordingly, with rites involving the first fruit and bread baked from flour obtained from the first corn. It is also one of the cross-quarter days, lying roughly half-way between the Summer Solstice and the Autumnal Equinox (in the Northern Hemisphere).
I’m reminded that this time last year I was still on sabbatical. That seems like ages ago. When I resumed teaching last September I had to teach two modules I’d never taught before: a fourth-year Mathematical physics course on Differential Equations and Complex Analysis and a second-year Engineering Mathematics course. This time should be a bit easier as I get to do both of these again. Over the year I also had a final-year undergraduate project student and an MSc student. Both have been a pleasure to work with. The Masters course lasts a calendar year so that one isn’t quite finished, but the deadline for handing in their dissertation is close, next Monday (11th) in fact.
After I return to work tomorrow the next big item on the agenda is the repeat examination period, which starts on Wednesday August 6th. The fates have conspired to require me to be “on call” for four papers next Saturday (two of my own and two covering for a colleague): three of these are scheduled at 12.30 and the other one at 15.30 so I’l have to be by the phone all afternoon in case any matters arise. I also have three others scattered through the approximately ten days of the examination period.
After the repeat examinations are done, the marks uploaded, and the Examination Board has done its work, the next job will be to prepare for the new intake of students. This year’s Leaving Certificate results will be announced on Friday 22nd August, at which point we’ll see how many students (if any) we have studying Physics next academic year which, if all goes to plan, will be my antepenultimate…
Only a relatively small area was to have its drinking water supply cut off entirely, but residents in the rest of the shaded area above (which includes Maynooth) were requested to conserve water so as not to use up all the water already in the system that would not be replenished while the main was being replaced and a warning was in place about possible disruption to the water supply. I was worried that this might get very awkward if the works overran. Fair play to Uisce Éireann, though, because the works were completed on time earlier today. I haven’t noticed any disruption at all.
P.S. I have done my bit to help conserve water over the weekend by drinking only wine and beer.
A few weeks ago, after I posted an item about it being 40 years since I graduated from the University of Cambridge, I was talking to some students. The main subject was that the primary route for becoming a research student is to do an undergraduate degree (Bachelors) followed by a taught postgraduate programme (Masters) before starting a PhD or equivalent. In the course of that discussion I mentioned that I skipped the middle step and went straight from my (three-year) BA at Cambridge to my DPhil at Sussex. Nevertheless, I have got a Masters degree: MA (Cantab), to be precise.
I had to explain that if you graduate from the University of Cambridge then all you have to do is wait a few years and then your B.A. automatically becomes an M.A. In my memory I received news of this just a year or two after graduation but this evening I found the correspondence and it was later than that:
By December 1988 I’d already finished my DPhil thesis, though I wasn’t formally awarded the degree until the following July. I didn’t turn up to the graduation ceremony, of course. I had done at least some work for my B.A. but did nothing at all for my M.A. except survive for three and a half years. Neverthless, I still have the stiff ticket (right) which I show here alongside my B.A. certificate (left) to demonstrate that it looks just like a proper degree certificate even though it is, frankly, a bit of a fraud.
I bet our MSc students currently hard at work on their dissertations wish that theirs were so easy!
By the way, having an MA also gives you (limited) dining rights in College. I’ve never once availed myself of this privilege.
So here I am, back from a sweltering London to an almost-as-sweltering Maynooth. It was 33 degrees where I was in London yesterday and 30 degrees here in Maynooth earlier today, though it is now cooling slightly. Such a temperature is very unusual for this part of the world.
I was visiting South Kensington Technical College Imperial College for the last couple of days, working there. The surrounding area is of course looked very posh and looked resplendent in the summer sun. The area around the Museums was very busy with tourists, but it was nice to see people out and about, enjoying themselves in the sunshine.
I had hoped to publish a few OJAp papers on Wednesday morning before leaving for the airport. Unfortunately, as explained here, Crossref was offline all day Wednesday so I couldn’t do that. I caught up on Thursday morning by getting up before 6am and publishing 4 papers before heading down for a very nice hotel breakfast at 7am.
The journey to London on Wednesday didn’t get off to a very good start. My Aer Lingus flight from Dublin was delayed for an hour waiting the arrival of the aircraft from, of all places, Barcelona. Worse was to follow. I had decided to take the tried-and-trusted route from Heathrow Terminal 2 to South Kensington via the Piccadilly line. All went well until we approached Acton Town when the driver explain that there was a signal failure ahead at Covent Garden which meant the line in front was congested. Thereafter we inched along waiting for a succession of red lights to clear. The Piccadilly line has rather old trains without air conditioning, so it was like sitting in a slowly-moving sauna. Then we reached Turnham Green (where the train was not supposed to stop), and the driver opened the doors to give us a bit of fresh air. I spotted a District Line train to Upminster on the other side of the platform. That line does not go through Covent Garden so I dashed across and took it for the rest of the journey. I got to my hotel about 90 minutes later than planned, but not late enough to miss the welcome dinner at Ognisko, a very nice Polish restaurant.
Fortunately the hotel the Imperial staff had booked for me was very nice, and had good airconditioning. The rest of my stay was very pleasant, if intense. I even got back to Dublin on schedule yesterday evening and had time to go to the shops to get something for dinner last night and breakfast this morning.
Now that I’m back I have a report to write, but that can wait until tomorrow. Today I have to attend to a thirsty garden.
At the Social Dinner at the EAS in Cork I got talking to a young postgraduate student while we were both in the queue for burgers. We chatted about the trials and tribulations of doing a PhD and about the general perception that it is a very hard slog. What I said was that, although at times it was definitely tough going, I had the best time of my life doing my PhD – well, DPhil actually – and I know many others who feel the same. I think you need work hard, but also enjoy it.
Me having received my Doctorate in 1989.
The main point is that a postgraduate research degree is very different from a programme of undergraduate study. For one thing, as a research student you are expected to work on your own a great deal of the time. That’s because nobody else will be doing precisely the same project so, although other students will help you out with some things, you’re not trying to solve the same problems as your peers as is the case with an undergraduate. Your supervisor will help you of course and make suggestions (of varying degrees of helpfulness), but a PhD is still a challenge that you have to meet on your own.
(Incidentally, I don’t think it is good supervisory practice to look over a research student’s shoulder all the time. It’s part of the purpose of a PhD that the student learns to go it alone. There is a balance of course, but my own supervisor was rather “hands off” and I regard that as the right way to supervise. I’ve always encouraged my own students to do things their own way rather than try to direct them too much.)
That loneliness is tough in itself, but there’s also the scary fact that you do not usually know whether your problem even has a solution, let alone whether you yourself can find it. There is no answer at the back of the book; if there were you would not be doing research. A good supervisor will suggest a project that he or she thinks is both interesting and feasible, but the expectation is that you will very quickly be in a position where you know more about that topic than your supervisor.
I think almost every research student goes through a phase in which they feel out of their depth. There are times when you get thoroughly stuck and you begin to think you will never crack it. Self-doubt, crisis of confidence, call it what you will, I think everyone who has done a postgraduate degree has experienced it. I certainly did. A year into my PhD I felt I was getting nowhere with the first problem I had been given to solve. All the other research students seemed much cleverer and more confident than me. Had I made a big mistake thinking I could this? I started to panic and began to think about what kind of job I should go into if I abandoned the idea of pursuing a career in research.
So why didn’t I quit? There were a number of factors, including the support and encouragement of my supervisor, staff and fellow students in the Astronomy Centre at Sussex, and the fact that I loved living in Brighton, but above all it was because I knew that I would feel frustrated for the rest of my life if I didn’t see it through. I’m a bit obsessive about things like that. I can never leave a crossword unfinished either…
What happened was that after some discussion with my supervisor I shelved that first troublesome problem and tried another, much easier one. I cracked that fairly quickly and it became my first proper publication. Moreover, thinking about that other problem revealed that there was a way to finesse the difficulty I had failed to overcome in the first project. I returned to the first project and this time saw it through to completion. With my supervisor’s help that became my second paper, published in 1987.
I know it’s wrong to draw inferences about other people from one’s own particular experiences, but I do feel that there are some general lessons. One is that if you are going to complete a research degree you have to have a sense of determination that borders on obsession. I was talking to a well-known physicist at a meeting not long ago and he told me that when he interviews prospective physics students he asks them “Can you live without physics?”. If the answer is “yes” then he tells them not to do a PhD. It’s not just a take-it-or-leave-it kind of job being a scientist. You have to immerse yourself in it and be prepared to put long hours in. When things are going well you will be so excited that you will find it as hard to stop as it is when you’re struggling. I’d imagine it is the just same for other disciplines.
The other, equally important, lesson to be learned is that it is essential to do other things as well as your research. Being “stuck” on a problem is part-and-parcel of mathematics or physics research, but sometimes battering your head against the same thing for days on end just makes it less and less likely you will crack it., I’m sure that I’m not the only physicist who has been unable to sleep for thinking about their research or who has spent hours sitting at their desk achieving nothing at all. The human brain is a wonderful thing, but it can get stuck in a rut. One way to avoid this happening is to have more than one thing to think about.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been stuck on the last clue in a crossword. What I always do in that situation is put it down and do something else for a bit. It could even be something as trivial as making a cup of tea, just as long as I don’t think about the clue at all while I’m doing it. Nearly always when I come back to it and look at it afresh I can solve it.
It can be difficult to force yourself to pause in this way, but I think it is essential to learn how to effect your own mental reboot. In the context of my actual research this involved simply turning to a different research problem, but I think the same purpose can be served in many other ways: taking a break, going for a walk, playing sport, listening to or playing music, reading poetry, doing a crossword, or even just taking time out to socialize with your friends. Back in Brighton in the 1980s I spent most evenings in bars and nightclubs. I never felt the slightest bit of guilt for having so much fun. Without the nightlife and all that I’m not sure I would have finished my PhD.
So, for what it’s worth, here is my advice to new or prospective postgraduate students: work hard but enjoy the challenges. Listen to advice from your supervisor, but remember that the PhD is your opportunity to establish your own identity as a researcher. So take ownership of it. And never feel guilty about establishing a proper work-life balance. Having more than one dimension to your life will not only improve your well-being but may also make you a better researcher.
The summer examinations at Maynooth being over and the finalists having received their degree results I was reminded that I’d missed the anniversary of my own graduation. The main reason for that is that I couldn’t remember the date. I thought it was in July, actually, but rummaging through my files reminded me that it was on Saturday 22nd June 1985. Maynooth graduands will have to wait until September at the earliest for their conferring ceremony.
The degree certificate, incidentally, is not at all fancy. The only thing that surprised me about it was that it’s not in Latin!
The Stiff Ticket for my Degree
The one I got when I collected my DPhil from Sussex University is far more elaborate. It’s also worth mentioning that although I did Natural Sciences (specialising in Theoretical Physics), the degree I got was Bachelor of Arts.
I don’t remember much about the Cambridge graduation, perhaps because the previous evening (Friday 21st June) we were plied with alcohol at the MacFarlarne-Grieve Dinner (a special event for graduands), then finished up in The Pickerel, the closest pub to the College. Our ceremony started at 9.15am and I wasn’t the only person graduating with a hangover.
The whole ceremony was dpme in Latin (or was when I graduated) and involved each graduand holding a finger held out by their College’s Praelector and then kneeling down in front of the presiding dignitary, i.e. either the Vice-Chancellor or Deputy Vice-Chancellor. I can’t remember which. The magic formula that turns a graduand into a graduate is:
Auctoritate mihi commissa admitto te ad gradum Baccalaurei in Artibus, in nomine Patris et Filii at Spiritus Sanctii
Other than that, and the fact that the graduands had to walk to the Senate House from their College through the streets of Cambridge, I don’t remember much about the actual ceremony.
After the ceremony we returned to Magdalene College for a garden party. I found this quite stressful, because my parents had divorced some years before and my Mum had re-married. My Dad wouldn’t speak to her or her second husband. At the garden party, the two parts of my family occupied positions at opposite corners of the lawn and I scuttled between them trying to keep everyone happy. It was like that for the rest of the day and I was glad when it was all over.
Anyway, the following October I started as a research student at the University of Sussex doing a Doctorate in Philosophy. I finished my thesis in 1988. Those three years were hard work but, on the whole, very enjoyable. I have a similar length of time in front of me before I retire. By the end I’ll have had 40 years in higher education (29 in the UK and 11 in Ireland). Hopefully, by then I’ll have figured out what to do when I leave University.
This morning I took an impromptu trip to Trim, which is situated in the Boyne Valley in County Meath. There has been a small astrophysics workshop going on there this week, attended by some people I know including a couple of old friends from Nottingham, Frazer and Meghan. Trim is less than 30km from Maynooth as the crow flies. Unfortunately I couldn’t find a crow willing to offer me a lift, public transport from Maynooth to Trim is difficult, and I don’t drive, so it wasn’t easy to arrange to meet up. Fortunately this morning one of our postdocs was driving up for the morning session of the meeting so I cadged a lift and and stayed until lunch before getting a lift back to Maynooth.
It was a nice trip. An added bonus was that the workshop venue was just a few metres away from the historic Trim Castle, which was built in the early 13th Century. We had time for a quick walk around before leaving to return to Maynooth.
As you can see, it’s a standard model Norman castle. The Keep, though not entirely intact is pretty well preserved; there’s certainly a lot more left than in the case of Maynooth castle. Quite a lot of the curtain wall and the gates have survived quite well too. In order to get inside the Keep (and climb to the top) you have to take an official tour, but we didn’t have time for that.
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In the Dark 