![\"\"](\"https:\/\/world.edu\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/03\/grammar_typos.jpg\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
In the UK system, the majority of PhD students pass their viva \u2018with minor corrections\u2019. Your examiners present you with a list of corrections, you go away and implement them. Easy, yes? Well, no, not necessarily.<\/p>\n
If you\u2019re lucky, corrections are simply typos, formatting issues etc. So far, so good. Any thesis will inevitably contain some of those, and you\u2019d definitely want to correct them before submitting the final version. Corrections of that nature can legitimately be considered \u2018minor\u2019. But corrections of that kind are only a small part of the story. Much more problematic, in my experience, are corrections that, although still considered \u2018minor\u2019, involve re-thinking and re-writing. Nobody warns you that you\u2019ll need to re-gather your energy and brainpower to tackle them. That, for me, turned into a struggle for which I was completely unprepared.<\/p>\n
Let\u2019s be clear: getting through your viva \u2018with minor corrections\u2019 is a great achievement. Your work is definitely of the required standard, but there are still tweaks to be made, perhaps to make connections clearer or to fine-tune an explanation. After all, you and your supervisors have become so close to your work that you may not realise that a particular point is not entirely clear to somebody reading it for the first time. This means that \u2018minor\u2019 corrections are entirely legitimate, and indeed should be welcomed as contributing to the quality of your final thesis. So why, when my examiners reeled off their list, did making those corrections seem like another huge mountain to climb? After all, it was the most likely outcome of the viva, so it wasn\u2019t a surprise.<\/p>\n
The problem, I think, was that after six years of researching and writing, and (for reasons beyond my control) a long and anxious wait for the viva, I had simply burned out. I had nothing left to give. While my supervisors cracked open a bottle of bubbly after the viva and people started gathering to congratulate me, I found it hard to celebrate. My brain felt completely drained, yet I knew that I somehow had to address those corrections before I could pass the finishing post. To my examiners and supervisors, those corrections were indeed \u2018minor\u2019, but to me they seemed bewildering and daunting.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo the minimum necessary,\u201d my supervisors advised. For the first few days, all I could do was stare at my thesis. It was if it was carved in stone. It was only painfully slowly that my energy and brainpower returned and I felt able to tackle the typos, the easiest of the corrections. Once that barrier had been broken, the corrections that involved re-thinking and re-writing followed. In the end, I wrote three additional paragraphs at various points in the thesis and expanded my illustrations of an argument at another. Not, after all, a big deal.<\/p>\n
Given that there is so little advice around on how to deal with \u2018minor\u2019 corrections, perhaps I\u2019m unusual in having experienced this response. Or perhaps people like supervisors, having come out the other side, quickly forget what it\u2019s like to have to re-visit your thesis at the very point when you may have nothing left to give. In case it helps others to avoid a crisis, here\u2019s my advice:<\/p>\n