Originality is Overrated

If you've been following my posts on my LinkedIn newsletter, you'll notice that I generally center my published pieces around diverse aspects of the housing industry. This ranges from exploring real estate data and economics to bringing attention to government policies and everything in between.

More recently, as I've been preparing for a Spartan race (Half Marathon + 30 obstacles) and a full marathon, a significant portion of my time has been spent "pondering on the pavement". Instead of embarking on a completely new newsletter project, it occurred to me that I could leverage my existing platform to occasionally share the introspective dialogues I engage in during my early morning runs, watching the sunrise.?

Thus, to inaugurate this fresh series, I wanted to delve into a profoundly significant facet of my life journey. I'll be discussing one technique I used to obtaining a PhD – all while juggling work, marriage, parenting through a pandemic, and nurturing two children. This inaugural piece I've titled "Originality is Overrated." It encapsulates how this single declaration played a pivotal role in my accomplishments during an difficult, time-intensive, yet immensely valuable chapter of my life.

Originality is Overrated

"Originality is Overrated" might sound like a bold claim, but believe it or not, embracing this idea actually became my secret weapon for swiftly navigating my way through my PhD journey while juggling life and smoothly traveling over unexpected speed bumps. But before we dive into the details of this adventure, let's take a moment to set the stage.

Back in 2016, I made a life-altering decision to bid farewell to my career as a high school educator and embark on a fresh chapter. Moving back in with my family, I took the plunge into pursuing a bachelor's degree in computer science, with my incredible wife right by my side. Balancing part-time jobs and hitting the books became the rhythm of my life for a good handful of years. Deep down, I yearned for this chapter to conclude sooner rather than later, allowing me to return to a life resembling what I'd left behind – albeit a happier and more fulfilling version.

As I approached the final stretch of my journey, my mentor – who would later become my PhD advisor – popped a thought-provoking question: "What's next? Are you considering furthering your education?" Initially, my response was a resounding "no," but that stance rapidly evolved as I searched platforms like LinkedIn and Indeed in pursuit of my dream job. While earning my bachelor's degree in computer science was undeniably a commendable achievement, it dawned on me that it might not be quite enough to secure the long-term career I had my heart set on. And so, my swift and certain "no" gradually transformed into a more contemplative, "I suppose I'll need to."

I sat down with my professor and laid out a few conditions for pursuing a PhD

1. I expressed my weariness of the paycheck-to-paycheck cycle and the grind of part-time jobs. My goal was to earn my PhD while maintaining a full-time job – perhaps a bit unconventional, I admit.
2. Furthermore, I made it clear that speed was of the essence. I didn't enjoy the idea of my degree dragging on for 5 to 6 years, a timeline I often heard other PhD students discussing. My aim was to complete the journey as swiftly as possible.

Fortuitously, UTSA had recently launched a part-time PhD program in Information Technology, specifically focusing on Artificial Intelligence. The inaugural cohort of this program featured a blend of both full-time and part-time students, a structure designed to enable PhD candidates to maintain full-time employment while pursuing their degrees. However, due to the part-time nature of the program, it naturally required a longer duration for completion.?

Now, let's fast forward a bit. How did I manage to attain the distinction of becoming the very first graduate from this program, outpacing even the full-time students, all while balancing a demanding full-time job, maintaining my role as a husband, and embracing fatherhood? The answer might surprise you: Originality is Overrated!

What's the meaning behind my "Originality is Overrated" mantra? Well, after diving into blogs detailing the lives of PhD students and engaging in conversations with tech-program-bound peers already in the midst of their PhD journeys, a recurrent challenge emerged. It appeared that as these individuals neared the thesis defense phase, a common anxiety surfaced – the worry of lacking sufficient publications showcasing their contributions to the field. While opting for increasing course-load to expedite the graduation process was certainly a feasible albeit demanding option, attempting to fast-track original research that could be accepted and published in research journals and conferences proved to be a daunting task.

When embarking on the research journey, your initial year or so is usually dedicated to developing a comprehensive grasp of the subject matter, allowing you to eventually zoom in on the specific arena where original research can carve its niche. The emphasis on originality stems from the necessity for your research to offer something novel and substantiated, a prerequisite for its potential publication.

Rather than kicking off from a blank slate, I adopted a two-pronged approach to tackling the challenge of publishing pioneering research. Firstly, I embarked on a comprehensive exploration of all things related to AI, leaving no stone unturned. This involved devouring an array of resources and engaging in relevant courses, which provided me with a broader perspective.

Secondly, I formulated a strategy involving every course I undertook. On the very first day, after class, I'd linger a while, take the opportunity to introduce myself to the professor, and pose a singular yet pivotal question:

"Do you have any research projects in the queue that you do not have time to work on?"

More often than not, professors find themselves swamped with a multitude of research queries. They're brimming with a plethora of potentially "original" concepts, yet due to the constraints of time and resources, they can't delve into all of them. This is where my approach comes into play.

My subsequent question, if they happen to have ongoing projects, involves proposing a meeting during their office hours. This gives us the chance to discuss and determine if any of these projects pique my interest. The beauty of this arrangement lies in its mutual benefits: the professor's ideas find exploration, and if the research gets accepted, they earn authorship credit. Meanwhile, I gain the opportunity to delve into a topic with potential publication value, and the professor offers their guidance and support. It's a harmonious arrangement that doesn't hinge on my generating a wholly original idea. Remember, the mantra remains: Originality is Overrated.

I followed this process diligently right from the beginning of my PhD journey until the day I successfully defended my thesis. I crafted several papers based on the topics that professors were passionate about, all the while immersing myself in a continuous study of a wide array of AI subjects. Eventually, a pivotal shift occurs—a moment where you start to formulate your own inquiries within the realm of AI and then address them with your personal touch of original research and critical thinking. However, this transformation isn't an overnight phenomenon; it requires time and dedication.

The crux of the matter is that you need to become an authority in your field first. This foundational expertise serves as the bedrock upon which you'll construct your own innovative research ideas. A crucial point to consider is that by the time many PhD students reach the stage where they possess the necessary knowledge for original research, they are typically 3 to 4 years into their journey with a relatively modest number of publications. In contrast, my approach yielded numerous publications by the time I was prepared to embark on crafting my own original research.

In essence, the progression is a testament to the power of adopting a collaborative approach and the wisdom in putting aside the pressure to be solely original from the outset. It's a strategic maneuver that reaps rewards, offering both a strong foundation and a solid publication track record.

To conclude, I want to make it clear that I'm not undermining the value of original research for PhD students. However, I believe that the pursuit of pure originality can inadvertently hinder students from engaging in meaningful research. The persistent quest for something completely unique can consume precious time that might be better invested in conducting substantial research. In the initial stages, it's paramount to rely on the expertise of established field authorities who've dedicated years to studying the subject. Learning how to conduct research effectively is a pivotal skill that serves as a launchpad for your journey. As your experience grows, you'll organically develop your own original ideas.

Let's face it, spending your entire PhD journey striving solely for originality might lead you down the same path that many before you have encountered – rushing to accumulate last-minute accepted research. In essence, it's a balanced approach that merges learning from the experts, building a strong research foundation, and then gradually incorporating your own innovative insights that fosters a more fruitful and fulfilling PhD experience.