Posted by Peter Tennant
When I was four feet tall, and each year felt like a Chinese dynasty, certain annual events used to really standout. The first hot day of summer. That strange day when there were flying ants everywhere. And the day when young adults would cry in the streets.
Apparently they had 'A-levels'. Or more accurately, they didn't.
These days, I find it harder to notice anything among the blur. Christmas is a long lunch. Summer a short weekend. But every now and again, grown men and women can still be found crying. The tears are usually less visible. But there’s no doubt about it, Fellowship applications are the A-levels of the early career researcher.
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| Vladimir Putin, after hearing he didn't get his fellowship |
In a recent post, Fuse director Martin White listed personal funding (in particular getting a Fellowship) as one of 10 "easy" steps to achieve "rapid and effective progression" in a research career. It reminded me of one of those weird logic puzzles. If Andrea is lazier than Beth, and Catherine is greedier than Delia, how many cakes will Delia eat before Andrea has woken up? In short, getting a Fellowship may make career progression easier, but it's certainly not easy to get one. At least not in my experience.
At this point, my academic enemy would probably volunteer a simple explanation. Like the overly-blunt PE teacher to the short fat boy (sorry, boy of below average height and above average weight) who doesn't understand why he's so rubbish at the high-jump. But as much as we might blame my own academic physique, the statistics tell a bruising story. For every 5-10 applications, only one will be successful.
On the surface of it, this doesn't sound too bad. At least not in a world where there are hundreds of applications for any one academic position. But firing off a job application and applying for a Fellowship are like chalk and cheese. Occasionally cheese may have a chalky texture. But I guarantee, the chalk and pickle sandwich will never catch on.
To start with, Fellowship applications belong to that special category of things that completely take over your life. Partly because they take up so much time – I reckon I did about 200 hours on my NIHR Fellowship application, not to mention the countless time staring into space 'thinking' about it. And whenever I did stop thinking about it, a friend would usually ask: "Have you heard about your Fellowship yet?".
But it's the personal focus that makes a Fellowship application so uniquely challenging. Yes, the project needs to appear excellent. But so do you. And, sadly, not just in the eyes of your Mum (sorry Mum, but I'm afraid 'having good A-levels' isn't quite enough any more). Which means there's lots to write about how great you are and why you deserve the money more than anyone else. There's no place for modesty. So if I ever come across like a egotistical jerk, I'm just practising for my next application. Honest.
Before finishing, I would like to offer some advice. Some magic formula that boosts those slim chances of acceptance. But as a twice-reject, you might as well ask McDonald's to help solve the obesity epidemic. All I can advise, is you try to keep your emotional distance. They might call it personal funding, but (believe it or not) rejection is nothing personal.
At this point, my academic enemy would probably volunteer a simple explanation. Like the overly-blunt PE teacher to the short fat boy (sorry, boy of below average height and above average weight) who doesn't understand why he's so rubbish at the high-jump. But as much as we might blame my own academic physique, the statistics tell a bruising story. For every 5-10 applications, only one will be successful.
On the surface of it, this doesn't sound too bad. At least not in a world where there are hundreds of applications for any one academic position. But firing off a job application and applying for a Fellowship are like chalk and cheese. Occasionally cheese may have a chalky texture. But I guarantee, the chalk and pickle sandwich will never catch on.
To start with, Fellowship applications belong to that special category of things that completely take over your life. Partly because they take up so much time – I reckon I did about 200 hours on my NIHR Fellowship application, not to mention the countless time staring into space 'thinking' about it. And whenever I did stop thinking about it, a friend would usually ask: "Have you heard about your Fellowship yet?".
But it's the personal focus that makes a Fellowship application so uniquely challenging. Yes, the project needs to appear excellent. But so do you. And, sadly, not just in the eyes of your Mum (sorry Mum, but I'm afraid 'having good A-levels' isn't quite enough any more). Which means there's lots to write about how great you are and why you deserve the money more than anyone else. There's no place for modesty. So if I ever come across like a egotistical jerk, I'm just practising for my next application. Honest.
Before finishing, I would like to offer some advice. Some magic formula that boosts those slim chances of acceptance. But as a twice-reject, you might as well ask McDonald's to help solve the obesity epidemic. All I can advise, is you try to keep your emotional distance. They might call it personal funding, but (believe it or not) rejection is nothing personal.
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