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Writer's pictureRachel McKeown

Alternatives to Masters

Thinking about doing a PhD? It has become the norm to pursue a Masters degree first, but this is not the only route into a doctorate programme. Rachel Mckeown explains how and why she jumped straight from her undergraduate course to her PhD, and what your options are.



Rachel presenting a poster on her work with developing xenopus (frog) brains at a conference in Heidelberg. Image credits: Rachel Mckeown

One of the questions I’m often asked about my PhD is where I did my Masters. It’s almost as if the question of whether I did a Masters isn’t necessary; everyone does a Masters before a PhD, right? As I approached the end of my undergraduate degree in Natural Sciences at Cambridge University, this was my assumption. The finishing line was approaching and it was time to choose my future path. My sights were firmly set on pursuing a PhD, but what did I need to be able to do that?


Feeling a little overwhelmed, I sat down over a coffee with my Director of Studies. When I mentioned Masters programmes, he told me there were only two reasons for considering one before my PhD. The first was if the PhD-of-my-dreams specifically required or requested me to have one. This is often the case in European countries, but not in the UK and the US. The second was if I wanted to use a Masters as a stepping-stone to transition from one field of science to another. Otherwise, the road to a PhD was already open to me.


Backing up a little, I was no stranger to lab life by this point. During my undergraduate years, I was the eager beaver seeking summer placements. In my first year, following a little Googling, I fired off an email to a professor at the Department of Physiology, Development and Neuroscience (PDN), and with exams wrapped up, I stayed put and launched headfirst into a mission to learn patch-clamp electrophysiology. This involves forming a tight seal with the cell membrane (in this case, of mouse hippocampal neurons) to record its electrical potential over time. This can reveal any changes to the strength of synaptic connections. At first I was oblivious to the notorious reputation this technique has for being difficult, but my naïve optimism was rapidly replaced by reality – just getting the basics required long, tiring hours of practice, the kind you can’t get from a textbook or a YouTube video. On my final day, though, when I sent a barrage of action potentials through a hippocampal circuit and observed a rise in the excitatory post-synaptic potential (or EPSP) in the neuron I had patched, the flood of euphoria and sense of achievement made me realise what a personal experience scientific research was. The payoff for all the hard work had me hooked. This was also my first true lab experience, seeing how a team of researchers tackle projects unified by a central theme, but with their own personal question. Undergraduate lab practicals are useful, but they don’t capture the ins-and-outs of research life. If I closed my eyes, I could see future Rachel discussing the latest papers, presenting her data and collaborating with colleagues.


Fast forward to my second summer and internship number two. I was still smitten with neuroscience, but I thought I’d switch it up a bit. My placement this time was in the same department, but swapping the top floor for the basement and hippocampal slices for the giant fibres of earthworms. Yes, that’s right – a slightly unconventional model! My task for eight weeks was to develop a recording system for this fibre to investigate supernormality, whereby a second action potential races along slightly faster than the first. This type of research was different; rather than focusing on an established technique to answer a defined question, here I was breaking new ground in the methods department. This certainly came with its fair share of frustration when attempt after attempt failed, tweaking my self-made protocol each time. Ultimately, this project didn’t bear much fruit during my short time there, but again, it taught me resilience and that even uncompleted projects have value - this research was carried on by another student. The day-to-day dynamic was very different to my previous placement, too, with only the lab head for company. I got far more personal attention and discussion this way, but I don’t think I’d choose it over a bigger research group; the sense of community was lacking for me.


The final year of my undergraduate degree came with a built-in internship in the form of a two-term research project. This was my longest research undertaking and it was soon clear I’d struck gold. I was fascinated by the topic (the guidance of axons by chemical and mechanical signals in the brain) and the atmosphere was incredibly engaging, friendly and relaxed. It was a challenge to leave the lab to head to lectures, which frustratingly dominated my timetable. I got to know the PhD students, all speaking so positively about their experiences. Without expecting to, I’d stumbled across my dream PhD. You don’t get far in science without a few bold moves, so I raised the idea of staying on as a PhD student with my supervisor. I went into his office slightly shaking at the thought of the bubble being burst, but almost sprinted home afterwards to call my family and share the news - he was happy for me to stay! The icing on the cake came a few weeks later, when a ‘ping’ in my mailbox delivered the offer of a Harding Distinguished Postgraduate Scholarship.



Rachel at work in her lab. Image credit: Rachel Mckeown

Looking back, I’ve sometimes wondered if it was the best decision to catapult straight from an undergraduate degree into a PhD. I certainly saved a lot of time and money – Masters programmes come with a hefty price tag. I’d also already unlocked many of the benefits of a Masters programme in having taken on three projects by this point; many of the Masters years of doctoral training programmes are structured with three project rotations. I knew my way around a lab and what I was getting myself into. Perhaps most significantly, I’d found where I wanted to be. I knew the research area, and my supervisor wasn’t requesting a Masters. All of my placements served as try-before-you-buy experiences, showing me what I valued most in a research environment, and ultimately gave me a springboard into my current project. Together, they also likely improved my standing on the PhD funding battleground – with so many promising applicants fighting for coveted scholarships, demonstrating experience in research can be a key part in success. It could potentially be favoured over a non-research Masters programme; there’s a sweet spot between academic study and hands-on experience, the latter of which could come equivalently from internships, industry or practical Masters projects.


However, part of me thinks that I’d have benefited a lot, both as a scientist and as a person, if I’d taken a little time to explore and grow after my undergraduate degree. For all I know, I could have fallen head-over-heels for industry research and steered away from academia, or found another field of neuroscience to pursue. Beginning my PhD aged 22, I’ve often felt like the ‘baby’ of the lab, lacking the experience of my lab mates. At times it has been overwhelming, especially when in the spotlight (like during presentations). PhDs can take their toll, especially early on when I felt like I was stumbling around in the dark trying to find a foothold. Rather than being a detour on my academic trajectory, taking a different path before my PhD to develop my confidence would have made me a more resilient and assertive student, better able to buffer the stresses that pave the road to success when projects span years, not mere weeks.


If you were to ask me now, as a third-year PhD student, if I have any regrets, my honest answer would be no. I am fortunate to be surrounded by the most wonderful and supportive people who I see more as my friends than I do my colleagues. Enthusiasm is infectious and I couldn’t imagine having found a more stimulating environment - going with my gut feeling has never paid off more. Though, I do feel I owe a fair bit to luck – a PhD is no walk in the park and had I not come across this opportunity by chance, I would certainly have taken more time to consider my future plans. Who knows where I’d be then? All I know is there is no right or wrong way to approach a PhD. What matters is choosing the right path for you.


 

This article was written by Rachel Mckeown and edited by Ailie McWhinnie. Interested in writing for WiN UK yourself? Contact us through the blog page and the editors will be in touch!

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