Tales of a PhD advisor

A few years ago, I may have achieved a world record of sorts. 60 percent of the students in an advanced course that I was teaching requested me to become their PhD advisor. 

To put the numbers in perspective, the class just had 5 students. I was flattered and agreed to supervise all the 3 students who made the request. Two of these students continued working with me, and one later moved to the research group of my colleague, Soumen Maity. This month, both my students have successfully defended their thesis. Jewel Mahajan defended on the 1st of December, and I am posting this blog right after the conclusion of Jishu Das's defence. Jishu has been co-supervised along with my colleague, Baskar Balasubramanyam. So, as of today, I am a proud advisor of 4 PhD students.  May I exult in the joy for a few seconds and remind myself that in my field and at my career stage, this is a number to be reasonably proud of? 

My first two PhD students, Sudhir Pujahari and Neha Prabhu graduated in 2016 and 2017 respectively; they both hold faculty positions now, and are doing very well. Sudhir joined as a PhD student at IISER Kolkata, and later moved to IISER Pune with me; Neha joined me at Pune. Incidentally, Sudhir is the second Math PhD from IISER Pune. The first PhD from our department is Yasmeen Akhtar, who was supervised by Soumen Maity, and is now a faculty member at BITS Goa. 

As the year comes to an end, it feels great to reflect on my journey and experiences as a PhD advisor. The relationship between a PhD supervisor and students is one of the most important relationships in the academic journey, and also a fundamental component of how knowledge grows in a field. Several comparisons are made with other formative relationships in life, such as the parent-child relationship. 

My relationship with each of my students is unique. While I saw (and continue to see) each of them grow as mathematicians and human beings, it is equally true that they have seen me grow as well, both professionally and personally. My students found me at distinct stages; the person who advised Sudhir and Neha (Students 1 and 2) was very different from the person who advised Jewel and Jishu (Students 3 and 4). 

When Sudhir started working with me, I was six months into my first faculty position. Neha joined me a year or so after I moved to Pune. So, I was at an "early-career" stage when both of them started working with me. My early career years had their own set of struggles and anxieties. The key struggle was that I was experimenting with different ideas, and it took me some time to build a vision for my core research programme. I have written about this struggle here. In that sense, both Neha and Sudhir were fellow-adventurers, but the anxious part of me did indeed wonder once in a while if I had started supervising students too early on. Looking back today, these fears now appear unfounded. In fact, the success of a joint project with Neha helped us both to forge research paths to move ahead. 

By the time Jewel and Jishu started working with me, I had passed through the "early-career" stage. I had clear research goals in mind, and was determined to pursue them systematically and in a focused way for the next few years. That is why, even as the pandemic raged and I was only able to meet my students online, I never had any doubt that both will finish successfully. In the case of Jishu, Baskar and I were co-advisors, and Baskar is a walking encyclopaedia on the topic. On their part, despite the difficulties of pandemic-induced isolation, both the students displayed a remarkable amount of resourcefulness and sincerity. We got used to discussing ideas and questions over long emails (and occasionally, long WhatsApp and text messages as well, a practice that I now strongly discourage in my students; WhatsApp and text messages are best used only for urgent communication). They took full advantage of several international conferences and seminars being held online, notwithstanding the late night hours in Indian Standard Time. Like any research project, our projects also experienced some turbulence from time to time, but it only made us more determined and excited to finish them. My work with Jewel led to a long article on a topic that has been of great interest to me, and has now appeared in the Journal of Number Theory [in fact, writing this paper has been a valuable academic experience, and some day, I am going to write a blog post exclusively about it]. Jishu has multiple papers under review, but here's something that makes me happy and proud: Student 2, Neha initiated a nice research project with him and their article has now appeared in the Journal of the Ramanujan Mathematical Society. 

I would like share a few reflections about PhD supervision.

1) Student first.

Student supervision is not exactly smooth. Since I live in Pune, I can't help but compare supervision to driving on rough roads full of new speed breakers (which weren't there yesterday), not to mention the change in the entire landscape due to the ongoing metro construction. Roadblocks can either occur due to difficulties in the projects, and or due to a complete contrast in the personalities and priorities of the mentor and the mentee. Since mentees in this case are adults with minds of their own, there will likely be many situations of disagreement, or when the student just refuses to act as per the expectations of the advisor (or vice versa). When ego issues find their way into this mix (a perfectly human thing to happen), it is easy to forget the overriding goal, namely the training of the student.

The role of the guide is to train the student, make the student aware of opportunities and "advise" the student about issues to which they have limited exposure. The key goal is to initiate the student into the scientific journey. But, at the end of the day, it is an advisory relationship where the student may have a different path in mind or a different style of traveling from what the guide may have envisioned. For example, the student may not be so keen on the research project that the guide has suggested, but may have built collaborative networks for a different project. Is the guide to be like a nagging/overbearing parent who insists that the student do everything exactly as they want? Or, is the chief guiding principle to be what is best for the student so that they get a degree and move on in life? 

The "nagging/overbearing" persona does have its advantages occasionally: it has to be turned on when the student is procrastinating before submitting something, not compiling their thesis in an acceptable format, or when their idea of preparing conference talks is to copy their papers onto slides (this is a perfectly natural thing to do for someone speaking on their work for the first time). How much and on what matters the guide is to persist depends on the situation at hand (will the student lose their fellowship or visa status if a document is not submitted on time?) and the level of awareness in the student (is the student mindful of the consequences of not submitting something on time, or not doing something carefully?) 

But, as a guide, the most important skill to practise is to tailor our reactions based on what is best for the student, namely that they get their degree along with the skills and expertise to move on. This is similar to dealing with the bumps, debris and traffic on Pune roads by remembering how our roads and public transport will eventually transform when the metro is fully operational. To carry the analogy further, do we want the PhD journey of a student to be like the metro (making progress and transforming Pune, day by day), like the failed BRTS project (took off, and then stalled), or even worse, the "proposed" Pune airport project at Purandar (which never seems to take off, even as multiple cities in India of all tiers get their own airports)?

2) Growing together.

The relationship between a mentor and mentee is that of synergy. We work towards a common goal, build ideas together and bring complementary skills into a project. The outcome is as significant for the student as it is for the advisor, even though the consequences for the student may be more evident. Every project that I have finished with a student initiates the student into a new research theme and questions that they may choose to focus on in their initial days before eventually developing their own vision. But, it also adds a new dimension to my own research programme. Many colleagues and friends assign a PhD problem to their student independent of their own research goals, and let the student take it forward on their own with some guidance. Perhaps, I may do this in the future. But, at this time, I find myself heavily invested in the projects of each of my students; I assign problems to my students that I've been thinking about myself. These problems have been of great importance and relevance to my core research programme. At a deeply personal level, each successful project that leads to a PhD not only opens a path for the student, but also renews my faith in larger goals. As such, we both become a part of each other's journey of growth.

3) Sincerity and mental flexibility matter the most.

All my students have very different personalities. Each has their defining strength, and looking back, I can now see how the specific strength of each student is demonstrated in their work. Each student also has their own struggles, and I have faced unique challenges in each relationship. Some students may demonstrate more creativity in their work. Some are willing to jump right into a problem, while others may need a little prodding in this direction. Some are extremely thorough with each aspect of their writing, while some like to get their work out as quickly as possible, and have to be gently encouraged to put more care into proofreading. Sometimes, the same student is very thoughtful while writing a paper, but not so while preparing a talk, or vice versa. Some can work on multiple aspects of a project at the same time, while some do much better focusing on one part at a time. 

So, the other day,  I tried to "rank" what qualities or strengths are most desirable in a student, or what "weaknesses" are the "least desirable". I could only come up with one conclusion: as long as the student is sincere about their work, has the flexibility to accept feedback and believes the guide to be squarely on their side, every attribute falls into place. 

Sincerity in both the guide and the student is a vital part of the PhD journey. The student's sincerity manifests in their willingness to work, and the guide's sincerity manifests in them contributing wholeheartedly to the student's growth. This makes the interaction meaningful, pleasant and forward-looking, even with all the personality foibles. A trust develops that has the potential of surviving (and even flowering) through the years ahead. 

In essence, what made each advisory relationship successful was the love for mathematics in each student and the fundamental willingness of each student to work hard and improve themselves through feedback. My eldest two students are now my friends: I feel happy when they make an effort to keep me updated about their professional journeys or when they reach out for advice. I have received valuable advice from them as well. Now that the youngest two have graduated, I hope that they will also see me as their lifelong cheerleader and well-wisher. Further, with every new student I supervise, I hope to become a better mathematician and a better human being.

Does it matter?

Two months ago, I traveled to Srinagar for a few days. This was in the middle of the teaching semester, and I had requested my co-instructor for the course (a large second year class of 200 students) to cover for me. This trip was not for a personal vacation, but it was also not for a research conference or collaboration. I am a member of the editorial board of Resonance, a journal of science education published by the Indian Academy of Sciences. This journal is widely read by school and college students and teachers all over the world, and the goal is to publish good articles, either containing new discoveries or a good exposition of existing science which can be understood by a wide readership. This year, Resonance decided to combine one of their editorial board meetings with an outreach programme at Srinagar. The programme would bring together college students from all over Kashmir, who would be treated to expository talks in the different sciences for a week. They would also have the opportunity to interact with the speakers (plenty of time was allocated for this) about topics of interest, and to ask lots of questions about the topics, course of future study, a life in science and more.

Earlier this year, when Professor B. Sury, the chief editor of Resonance asked if I would be interested in being a part of this programme, I immediately said yes (mainly because of the interesting venue). On the day of travel, I woke up at 1 am to catch a red-eye flight to Delhi, in order to make a decent connection to Srinagar. The uneven sleep hours did not bother me at all. In a truly joyful and excited state of mind, I listened to a podcast and read a book through the journey. I was mesmerised by majestic views of the Himalayas as the plane entered Kashmir, and felt grateful for the opportunity to be here as we descended into the valley.

While waiting at Srinagar airport for a fellow EB member who was to arrive an hour later, however, I suddenly grew anxious: Is it right for me to travel for five days for a non-research-related reason? Is this vanity? Am I avoiding "real" work by doing this?

The essence of all these worries was: does this activity "matter" as much as producing research? In a raw, "transactional" form, I suppose the question is: what position does such an activity hold in your CV? Or more pertinently, will it help score a point for tenure or promotion or whatever evaluation you are up for next? This, of course, points to larger issues. During several faculty meetings, faculty members raise several variants of this question. What matters? Does anything other than our research articles count positively in a CV? How much "weightage" does it have? Sometimes, I've heard the question taking a rather stark form: if research productivity is all that counts, why should a scientist at a research institution spend time mentoring students or making an effort to teach well or, by extension, participating in an educational outreach programme? 

As I was musing on these issues, a gentleman sitting next to me, waiting for his ride, struck up a conversation. Coincidentally, it turned out that he travels a lot for art outreach activities in schools and colleges. He described the students that he meets at these programmes in Kashmir as eager, inquisitive and interactive. This made me realize that I was thinking of the entire question of what matters from a limited viewpoint. The question was not if this activity mattered to a promotion committee. The right question was, "Does this activity matter to the students that I am going to meet?" 

While reading email discussions over the preceding week, I had learnt that students [including a very large number of women students] from all over Kashmir were traveling to Srinagar for this event, and the university administrators had worked hard to make the accommodation and programme arrangements. This was right in the middle of a curfew-like situation because there was to be a presidential visit the next day, and Srinagar was practically covered in a security cordon. People were working round the clock to make this event a success, and most importantly, students had traveled on their own, far away from their homes to learn science. Later, I came to know that Professor Jasjeet Bagla from IISER Mohali (the organizer on behalf of Resonance) had arrived a few days earlier to monitor the arrangements. Professor B. Sury, the chief editor of Resonance, was so seriously invested into making the event a success that he prepared four extra talks, just in case there were last minute cancellations by speakers. The speakers at this event (and associated events organized at colleges in places like Baramullah, Anantnag and Kupwara) spanned a vast and continuous spectrum of ages and career levels. There were retired academics above the age of 70, there were academics at very senior positions and there were some professors who had taught and interacted with me when I was a college student. There were several academics closer to my age and career stage. There were also younger people who had started their faculty positions very recently. But, we were all committed to the programme, and almost everyone had chosen to stay for a long duration (as opposed to simply flying in/giving a talk/flying out) [1]. We traveled the next morning from our guest house at Kashmir University to the venue for the programme (the Government College for Women at M. A. Road, Srinagar). A large community of students from the Physics department at KU (including, to my pleasant surprise, a high number of women research scholars) accompanied us to the venue as volunteers for the event [2]. They also served as friendly guides pointing us to several important landmarks in the city [3,4]. 

Professor Anil Bhardwaj, Director of the Physical Research Laboratory, Ahmedabad, sparked off the programme by a talk on India's space missions. As he shared video footage of the recent moon landing and other successful missions along with scientific details of the work that goes behind these missions, there was loud applause and plenty of questions from the students. Surrounded by happy, inquisitive students and passionate teachers,  I found all misgivings and anxieties about the trip and my participation sliding away. I was where I belonged and I was doing something that I joined the academic profession to do: interacting with students, sharing ideas with them and teaching them in whatever capacity I could. 

Coming back to the question of what matters, the simplest answer I can now come up with is that one has to remember the goals of each activity and place them in the right "box" if we must. It is true that when I prepare my next appraisal report, I will focus on my research projects: articles, PhD supervision, teaching duties at IISER. The outreach/science communication activities will most likely be relegated to the last page. In a sense, good communication skills involve a judgement of what to communicate in different situations. A tenure/promotion/evaluation committee (consisting of members who are spending their precious and severely limited time trying to understand our performance, and give us helpful feedback for our career progression) would be more interested in a presentation of our research programme and ideas, and how well we have been able to take them forward. So, this may not necessarily be the right place to describe our passion for outreach/science communication. 

Nevertheless, this does not detract from the value and importance of participating in an activity like the Resonance Science Outreach Programme. It is a valuable opportunity to teach younger people about what we do and love. In a country like ours with a vast student community that is hungry to learn, such opportunities matter and they have an impact. But, we are more likely to find the impact in the shine in a student's eyes than in an appraisal report. Those of us who have spent considerable time and effort in teaching and outreach beyond our institutional duties will attest to the sheer delight of receiving emails and updates from student participants over the years as they make their way up the academic and professional path. Somewhere, somehow, we made an impact to that one person, they remember and value that association, and we get a chance to see them grow, even if from a distance. And the right place to share our excitement of such activities may not be an appraisal report, but a lecture or outreach session itself, expository articles and possibly, blog posts such as this one! The fundamental issue, therefore, is not about whether something matters or not, but where does it matter and who does it matter to.

If science communication/outreach is something that someone genuinely enjoys and finds value in, the onus is on them to contribute to the extent possible. I do realize that not all academics may consider this important, or even have the skills to do this effectively [5]. Prioritizing science outreach may involve a tremendous amount of personal organization and time management, and there may even be times when we absolutely cannot make time for it. But isn't this true for all the things that we love? Choosing to not participate in outreach activities or not having the time or willingness for them is okay. But, if we do want to participate in them and avoid them only because they do not carry "weightage" in a CV, we may be losing out on something valuable that can indeed have a real impact.

I hope that I may always have the energy and willingness to balance all my professional activities: make progress in my research to the best of my abilities in the supportive ecosystem that IISER provides, make the best use of the opportunities and resources that are available to me, and also be able to share the joy of doing mathematics with students whenever I can. I can think of so many colleagues (including senior colleagues) who work very hard at their science research, are excellent teachers and travel widely to deliver lectures to students in schools and colleges all across India [6]. An example that comes to mind is that of my former PhD advisor, Professor Ram Murty. A Canada-based mathematician and a celebrated number theorist, he visits India each year during the summer and winter holidays. Over the last few decades, he has followed an itinerary to travel to several different colleges and institutes in each visit. After a major health scare in 2017, he had to scale down his travels: but, he still travels twice a year and manages to visit multiple institutions in each trip. 

While spending time on teaching and outreach activities, be it within or outside our institution, it helps to remember that we are all part of a chain of teachers, and must keep it going. While at Srinagar, another symbolic way in which I was reminded of this was a view of a temple named after the great monk and teacher, Adi Shankaracharya, that stands atop a hill visible from many parts of Srinagar.

The trip to Srinagar certainly mattered to me in more ways than one, and I will always cherish the memories and the reflections. 

[1] It is my lasting regret that I did not stay for the whole week of the programme. I wish I had also volunteered to travel to other places in Kashmir to give talks, like many of the other speakers. 

[2] The men students told me about a difficult situation: earlier that morning, they had all been turned out of their hostels without advance notice due to the security arrangements for the presidential visit, and had to find alternative accommodation.  They still managed to keep up their spirits and attended all the talks. I felt terribly sorry for them; students at IISER would be very upset at a much lower level of inconvenience. I do understand the tough choices that the administration had to make, and this makes me reflect on how students in Kashmir have had to navigate their studies through challenging times.

[3] Thanks to the inputs from one of the students, I made a solo trip to the Shankaracharya temple. It was one of the most memorable temple visits I have made; to imagine Adi Shankaracharya being here several centuries ago brought a lot of inspiration.  

[4] Something amusing and intriguing happened as I started walking up to the temple: a CRPF security member at the temple told me that this was not my first visit, and that she had seen me before. There's very little chance of that happening; I was last there in 1997. The driver who took some of us to Gulmarg the next day said the same thing: that he had seen me before. It made me very curious about a potential doppelganger (like the Canadian Maple to the Kashmiri Chinar) :-)

[5] At the cost of sounding mean, I can easily think of some people who will actually drive students away from science if they were to venture to give talks at such events. 

[6] Please check out the YouTube page of the Science Activity Center at IISER Pune. In these videos, many IISER members, as well as well-known educators from various parts of the world deliver lectures on interesting science topics to school students.