The Hidden Curriculum: 5 Things I Wish I Knew Before Starting My PhD

So, you’ve decided to pursue a PhD - congratulations! You’ve signed up for years of soul-searching, caffeine dependency, and wondering whether the printer breaking down is a sign from the universe. Sure, your university gave you a handbook with deadlines and formatting rules, but did anyone warn you about the real stuff? The unwritten rules? The social acrobatics? The delightful dance of “impress them without looking like you’re trying”? Welcome to the hidden curriculum.

Here’s what I wish someone had told me before I dove head-first into the academic abyss.

The Importance of Mentorship Beyond Supervision

Let’s be clear: your supervisor is not your life coach, therapist, or best friend—though bless your heart if you expected that.

They’re there to get you through your research (hopefully), write some letters of recommendation, and perhaps remember your name correctly at conferences. The real mentoring magic often comes from the people you stumble upon along the way—postdocs, peers, the admin who has seen it all.

Pro tip: Build a mentoring buffet. One person for career advice. One for methodological help. One who just listens to you complain about LaTeX errors. Academic survival is a team sport, and your supervisor is just the goalie (and sometimes the opposing team).

Navigating Academic Politics

You thought you were here to do science or advance knowledge, didn’t you? How sweet.

Welcome to the Game of Thrones: Ivory Tower Edition. Who sits next to whom in faculty meetings? Who always gets the seminar invites? Who funds your lab—and whose lab gets mysteriously “restructured” every five years?

Nobody teaches you how to read a room or decode cryptic committee decisions, but you’ll learn—either the hard way or through careful observation.

Hint: Keep an eye on the hallway whisperers. And for the love of tenure, don’t bad-mouth anyone near a coffee machine. They’re more wired than a spy agency.

Embracing Failure as a Learning Tool

You know those motivational posters that say “Fail forward”? Yeah. They weren’t talking about your fourth rejected manuscript this month.

Failure in academia is like oxygen: invisible, everywhere, and necessary. You’ll mess up an analysis, you’ll misinterpret a result, you’ll accidentally call a reviewer’s comments “laughable” and forget to take it out of your rebuttal letter. It’s fine. Mostly.

But here’s the deal—each of these failures sharpens you. They strip away your illusions, your perfectionism, your will to sleep. Wait—scratch that last one.

Embrace it. Laugh at it. Start a rejection folder and decorate it with stickers. You’ll thank yourself later.

The Value of Peer Support

Look, misery loves company—and academia provides both in generous portions.

Your peers are your secret weapon. They’re the ones who will help you find a comma in your 80-page draft at 2 AM. They’ll nod sympathetically when you cry over formatting guidelines. And they’ll send you memes that feel a little too real.

Form a writing group, a venting group, a walking club—whatever gets you through. Think of it this way: your cohort is the only group that truly understands the unique combination of existential dread and Excel rage you’re going through.

And hey, when one of you lands a grant or a job, you’ll all celebrate—before crying quietly into your own rejection email.

Prioritizing Mental Well-being

Ah yes, the part where we pretend we’re good at “balance.”

Academia romanticizes burnout like it’s a badge of honor. “Oh, you slept four hours? Must be nice. I haven’t blinked since Tuesday.” But here’s the truth: your brain is your most precious asset. If it melts down, your research won’t matter.

Make time for joy. Schedule breaks like they’re meetings. Say “no” like you mean it. Get therapy if you need it (spoiler: you probably do). Universities love to say “mental health matters,” but they don’t always act like it. You’ll have to be your own advocate.

Repeat after me: I am not my productivity. I am not my productivity. I am not—oh crap, I missed a deadline.

Survive, Then Thrive

The hidden curriculum isn’t in your syllabus, but it’s the backbone of your PhD experience. Master it, and you’ll walk across the graduation stage not just as a Doctor of [Your Field], but as a Jedi of academic survival.

No one nails it perfectly, but if you’re aware of the game, you’re already ahead. And someday, you’ll pass these insights on to the next poor soul who thinks “research” means “reading papers all day.” What a time to be alive.

---

About the Author

I’m Prof. Manousos Klados, founder of The PhD Mentor—a platform dedicated to helping current and aspiring PhD students and post-docs navigate academia with clarity, confidence, and community. Whether you’re struggling with imposter syndrome, unsure how to talk to your supervisor, or just wondering if it’s all worth it, I’m here to help you make sense of the madness.

Visit  https://linktr.ee/mklados for more resources, 1:1 mentoring, and brutally honest advice that actually helps.