Why I Decided to Publish Less—but Write Better—During My PhD

"Publish or perish" is a common adage in academia that reverberates loudly in graduate department hallways. This turns into a motto for many PhD candidates, motivating them to seize every chance to attend conferences, submit papers, and add new lines to their resumes. I was no exception. I was under constant pressure to publish as much as I could during the early years of my doctoral research. However, at some point, I started to wonder if more actually meant better.

In the end, I decided to prioritize improving my writing over increasing my publication volume, which felt radical in a competitive setting. This change altered the course of my PhD, and in retrospect, it was one of the best choices I ever made for my intellectual clarity, personal wellbeing, and academic development.

The Pressure to Produce


Many times, the pressure to publish starts even before the PhD process formally begins. Many of us are already concerned about future tenure-track openings, postdoctoral positions, and employment prospects when we start doctoral programs. The significance of developing a solid publication record is emphasized by peers, advisors, and institutional expectations.

I made an effort to keep up with this culture during my first year. Even when the research wasn't completely developed, I seized the opportunity to submit abstracts, co-author works, or short papers. I thought that quantity would demonstrate my commitment and increase my chances of receiving academic recognition.

Instead, I discovered that I was producing work that lacked the depth of thought I intended to convey. Even worse, I frequently felt hurried, dissatisfied, and even cut off from my research. My ideas were less clear because of the emphasis on speed.

The Turning Point


A pivotal moment occurred in my second year when a journal article I submitted was turned down—not because the research was weak, but rather because the argument was insufficiently compelling. The criticism was straightforward and helpful: the paper needed to be better framed, had more depth, and should have incorporated more of the body of existing literature.

I then came to the realization that I was rushing to write work that could be published without giving myself enough time to reflect, carefully edit, and effectively convey my research. I was writing to check boxes, not to contribute.

I made the decision to slow down at that point.

Shifting Focus: From Output to Quality


I started redefining my objectives. Rather than asking, "How many papers can I publish this year?" "What is the best way to present my research?" I inquired. I began to devote more time to thoughtful reading, introspection, and writing.

I continued to write and contribute despite this. Rather, I became more calculated. Even though I worked on fewer papers, they were all well-thought-out, meticulously researched, and well-written. I focused on coherence, clarity, and structure. I rewrote drafts several times before submitting them, and I paid more attention to critical criticism.

Although it took some time, the change was significant. My final submissions were better, got more favorable reviews, and led to more in-depth scholarly discussions. More significantly, I started to take pride in the work I was creating.

The Emotional and Intellectual Benefits


I used to get anxious when I wrote, but focusing on quality also helped. I discovered that I had more mental room to be critical and creative once I stopped putting pressure on myself to produce all the time. Writing was enjoyable once more. I gave my questions and the contributions I wanted to make to my field more careful thought.

Additionally, I started to place greater value on the research process than the final product. I put more effort into learning about methods, creating better experiments, and honing my points. Writing evolved from a chore to a tool for thought.

My academic relationships benefited from this strategy as well. My writing improved, and conversations about my work became more lively and fruitful as a result, according to my managers. Instead of hurried presentations, conferences became forums for exchanging well-considered ideas. And I became more confident as a researcher.

What I Learned About Academic Success


I discovered from this experience that publications aren't the only indicator of academic success. It also has to do with our work's integrity and thoughtfulness. A single, well-written, well-argued paper can have a greater impact and provide greater satisfaction than multiple, hurriedly written ones.

Innovation, clarity, and insight are rewarded in academia. When you're moving too quickly, none of these come naturally. Deeper contributions to your field are frequently the result of taking the time to refine your ideas, improve your writing, and purposefully present your research.

Related: You can also look into PhD programs to learn more.

My Advice for Fellow PhD Students


You're not alone if the pressure to publish frequently is overwhelming you. It's acceptable to pause and consider your writing's purpose and message. Quantity does not have to come at the expense of quality.

Allow time and space for introspection. Pick projects that genuinely interest you and treat them with the respect they merit. Consider writing a skill to be developed rather than a challenge to overcome.

If a publishing opportunity doesn't fit your objectives or don't let you do your best work, don't be scared to turn it down. Put more effort into developing a body of work that represents your identity as a scholar than just the quantity of publications you have made.

In the end, the work you are most proud of will be the work that was written with intention—not urgency. And that’s what will last far beyond your PhD.

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