Family Ties

My family is really only interested in one of the schools I applied to. I know, I know. I’m sure they’d be thrilled for me to get in to a program anywhere, but Pop has informed me that Seattle is almost the inverse of our current location and Mom has discovered that Stillwater is a tad remote (meaning it’s not actually possible to fly there commercially).

Adding more fuel to the fire, Sis & Co. just moved relatively close to the program in the Sunshine State. So, she and bro-in-law are dreaming of occasional free childcare and Mom and Pop are hoping for 2 for 1 visit possibilities. No pressure. Except:

“BUT WAIT; THERE’S MORE!”

~ Billy Mays

Turns out that the Sunshine State program is also my mother’s alma mater. And her twin sister’s. And their older sister’s. And their mom’s. And my cousin’s. To say that there was a little bit of interest in my Tuesday phone interview with Florida State would be an understatement. Folks weren’t exactly tailgating prior to the call, but it was close. Don’t believe me? Keep reading.

You see, Mom is not just an Florida State alum. She’s a Florida State FANATIC. Every Saturday during football season, you will find her perched in front of the TV, decked out in an FSU baseball jersey and various other Chief Osceola (or Soh Cah Toa, as I call him) necklaces, medallions, and other associated paraphernalia. Pop affectionately refers to the ensemble and her “shirt and shit”. I suppose it’s her contribution to the football team’s success.

Given that, I just had to laugh when, about a half hour before my interview with FSU’s PhD program director, I get an email that says:

Thinking of you__  Got on my “shirt and shit”!!!
Love,
Mom

That’s correct. My mother actually got on her “game day” attire for my PhD interview with her alma mater. Nah. She’s not invested at all. But, she might be onto something. I felt like the interview did go really well…

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Progress Report

This is going to be a very brief post. Just a quick update. Stop laughing; I’m serious. Yes, I can be verbose, but I’m a little busy and you’ll see why in a minute. I wanted to provide a status update on some significant developments. But first, a little background for perspective.

Generally speaking, the process for PhD programs in management is consistent across schools. Anywhere from 40 to a 100 people submit applications (sometimes even more at the “big name” programs). The average for my targeted schools seems to be about 70.

The admissions committee, which could be as small as 3 members or as large as the entire department faculty, then reviews the packages and eliminates roughly 70% of the applicants. Maybe more. The remaining candidates are ranked and phone interviews are conducted. Another cut is made, this time down to just a handful that are seriously being considered for an admissions offer. Those few are invited to campus for a visit and an in-person interview. If they don’t botch it completely, some or all of them should receive offers. (NOTE: Yes, apparently people actually completely botch it. UNC-Chapel Hill invited 3 people to campus last year and decided it was a complete waste of time. No one got an offer and UNC admitted no one to their program.)

The timing of these steps varies, due to the workload of the faculty involved and the application deadlines. I wasn’t expecting any word until February, but through my calls and emails, I learned that a few programs had already started the evaluation process. Here’s where the me being busy part kicks in.

 

Significant Development #1

Florida State has already made their initial cut and scheduled phone interviews. I am not sure how many interview invitations went out, but I am one of the fortunate ones. The director of their program will call me tomorrow at 1:30 PM to interview me. Cross appropriate body parts and pray fervently that I make it through and to the campus interview round. Though they ranked in the bottom quartile of my last rankings (likely in need of an update based on phone calls with faculty), they have been climbing due to a good bond with a professor there. So, I am busy practicing for it by interviewing myself. Yes, that is as hilarious as it sounds.

 

Significant Development #2

I mentioned a while back that Oklahoma State had shown interest shortly after my application package arrived and asked if I would consider coming to campus. Well, it’s official now. Their application period is technically still open, but the program director has already contacted 4 of us to come to campus for interviews. BOOM! I’m in the finals, baby! Want even better news? His invitation actually went to all 4 of us simultaneously because he wanted us to know that it was NOT a competition. They have 4 openings this year. If we’re all a fit, we’ll all get in. Naturally, I am brushing up on research publications for their entire department.

 

OK, that’s enough for now.

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Jack of all Trades, Master of None

Today, we drop in on the blog of economics professor and acclaimed author Steven Landsburg. His first two works (The Armchair Economist and More Sex is Safer Sex) are two of my favorites. He has a third book (The Big Questions), which has found its way into my library but that I have yet to read.

Landsburg’s most recent post is a celebration of the life and work of, in his words,

“Nobel laureate and all-around intellectual curmudgeon George Stigler”

I realize that I could be accused of skimping on an actual post of my own today by using Landsburg as some what of a stand-in, but I have several reasons.

1. I’m not finished with the post I want to publish next.
2. I want a somewhat relevant (to my journey, that is) reason to introduce folks to Landsburg. Agree with him or not, he will certainly make you think.
3. His most recent post includes an excerpt from a Stigler piece on “the consequences of competition in the market for higher education”.

This post, and Landsburg’s blog, certainly aren’t for everyone, but to entice you to give him a few minutes of your time, I offer this quote from Stigler:

“there are at most fourteen really first-class men in any field, and more commonly there are about six.”

In context, you should know that Stigler is speaking about academic departments at universities and colleges (hence the somewhat related topic to my academic journey); however, I believe this truth carries weight in many other endeavors. The overarching premise of the argument (or rather, the implication of that statement), is that no one entity can have the top people or pursue excellence in every field. Want non-academic examples? Here are the first few that came to my mind.

***

Think back to Jack Welch’s mandate that GE lines of business would be #1 or #2 in their respective fields. What happens if you’re not?

“fix, sell, or close”

At GE, if they couldn’t be the best at it they focused their attention, and allocated their resources, to the areas where they could.

***

Think about Jim Collins’ Hedgehog Concept from Good to Great. The number one question to ask yourself, Collins says, is:

“What can you be the best in the word at (and, equally important, what can you not be the best in the world at)?

Collins goes on to state that even if you have a core competency, it doesn’t mean you can compete at the highest levels in that field. You have to find the limited areas where you can.

***

Think about Olympic track athletes. They focus on a single event. “What about decathletes?” you ask. “Aren’t they good at everything?” My point exactly. They are quite good at several events, but hardly great (world class) at any.

To prove the point, I researched the 2008 Summer Olympic results. The decathlon gold medal went to Brian Clay of the United States. Clay was the fastest of all 40 decathlon competitors in the 100m sprint; however, he was only faster than 3 competitors in the 1500m event. Further, I took Clay’s 100m decathlon time and compared it to the 100m medal event. In 7 of the 10 qualifying heats, Clay’s time of 10.44 seconds would not have allowed him to advance past the first round. In fact, at that speed, Clay would not have made it through qualifying for USA’s Olympic 100m team. He would have been watching the Olympics on TV.

***

I think about this common trait of the most successful few in any endeavor and I think about my own life. I enjoy many things and pride myself on being well-rounded. I plan to continue to pursue multiple hobbies, but when it comes to my livelihood, I know I need to narrow it down. I’ve already taken a few steps in that direction (transitioning out of engineering into management), but I know I need to do some more pruning. In a way, that’s what completing a dissertation and obtaining a PhD is all about.

Again, click here to read the excerpt from Stigler on Landsburg’s site.

Otherwise, I leave you with something for us all to think about: What are you spending time, money, and energy on that’s better spent in an area where you can become one of Stigler’s “fourteen first class men”…or women?

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The GMAT (reprise)

A few months back, I wrote a post that mentioned my lower-than-expected GMAT score. As I promised late last week, I have a few more thoughts I’d like to share.

First, for those of you unfamiliar with the process of getting into business school, GMAT stands for Graduate Management Admissions Test. It is administered by private testing centers where you can take any number of Computer Adaptive Tests, including admissions exams and certification tests. The GMAT is owned and run by the Graduate Management Admission Council, which desires to be

the leader in the discovery and evaluation of talent, through assessments, for management education and practice around the world

I am at least glad they threw in the parenthetical caveat, though I am confident these folks think a lot more is determined by standardized assessments than I. Granted, I didn’t get the score I expected, so I will admit to a little bit of a bias here. With that disclaimer out of the way…

It is my view that the GMAT tests very little actual knowledge, but rather, the ability to learn how to take that specific test. Sure, it has the standard reading comprehension questions and some relatively straightforward sentence correction problems (well, straightforward to me because sis and I were sent to Grammar Boot Camp for a decade), but the quantitative section is the tricky part.

Now, if you know me, you’re likely thinking the following:

Wait a minute, the guy with the engineering degree thinks the math section is tricky?

Well, yeah. Kind of. I mean, it doesn’t seem like it should be that difficult. It’s largely made up of geometry and algebra questions. Going into test preparation, I thought:

In my life I have taken five calculus courses, a differential equations course, a statistics course, and three calculus-based physics courses. While my sister was taking electives like Flower Arranging and Organic Gardening, I was taking electives called Steel Design, Concrete Design, and Hydrology – all heavily based in quantitative analysis. I worked professionally as an engineer and passed two eight-hour certification tests (without studying) to become a registered professional. I can do me some math.

Well, it turns out that I didn’t account for a few things.

Thing 1: The GMAT is linear; my brain is not.

All of my successes in quantitative endeavors have been on paper tests, not computer tests. On a paper test, my mind is free to wander. If I don’t like the first question, I don’t answer it right away. In fact, on the Principles and Practice of Engineering (PE) exam, I skipped over the first 11 questions before I found the one I wanted to start with. Why does this matter? I’m no expert, but I think it’s just how I’m wired. I like to start by answering what I know that I know without thinking. Then, I move to things I think that I know, but need to spend a few minutes noodling on. Finally, I go back to the things that I’m not quite sure about and need to really dig into. This allows me to stay confident and keep a good pace. I save the most time-consuming questions and the most time for the latter portion of the test.

Well, the GMAT is on a computer, which does not allow for such creative divergence. It gives you a question and says, “answer or die”. Not really. It just makes you answer each question in a specific order. “Answer or die” is simply the way my brain interprets not being able to skip around. I’m sure that with a more significant time invesment, I could adapt to the computer system, but apparently four weeks wasn’t enough to reprogram 32 years of taking tests my way.

Thing 2: The GMAT feels like doing math with a bomb on your desk.

The GMAT allows 75 minutes for 37 quantitative problems. That’s just over 2 minutes per question, and for someone with the self-proclaimed worst case of undiagnosed ADD ever, that’s just not enough time. Seriously, it was well known in my major that I took breaks during every test. I would put my pencil down, stretch, stare at the ceiling, and clear my head several times during an exam. I might even put my head down for a bit. I never ran out of time. I did the same thing on the PE, where I had 6 minutes per question. The GMAT is the equivalent of lighting the fuse of a stick of dynamite and putting it next to my computer monitor as soon as I pick up my pencil. I can’t stop to think, because I can see the fuse burning with a pace reminiscent of Sherman v. Georgia, which means I’m actually behind before I ever really start.

Thing 3: The GMAT is too cool to use “normal” problems.

The GMAT folks have created their own little source of evil called data sufficiency. In fact, the GMAT is the only test in the history of the universe to use this type of question. Seriously. Look it up. I am not exaggerating. These questions are very strange in that they don’t ask you to find an answer to a problem, but instead ask if you have all the information you need to correctly determine the answer. Curious? Click here for some samples.

The problems aren’t really super hard to get used to, but because it is a Computer Adaptive Test, the problems get progressively more difficult as you answer more of them correctly. Harder questions = extra steps. Extra steps = more time. As we learned in Thing 2, I was out of time before I ever sat down. Throw in the fact that these questions come randomly assorted with the standard problems where you actually find answers (not good for ADD) and you have successfully created the only quantitative test I have ever taken where I failed to score in one of the highest percentile rankings.

Again, I am a little bitter because the quantitative section of the test got the better of me. If we (me and the GMAT) were two boxers, I’d be the guy that took the champ all 12 rounds, but was too exhausted to lift my gloves during the final round. So, I couldn’t land or block any punches, took 37 shots to the face in the final 3 minutes, and lost by unanimous decision.

If you were trying to determine entry to the boxing hall of fame based on that fight alone, you’d say that the guy that came up short in the fight isn’t going to get in. Understandable, if that’s the only data point you have. For me, a PhD program is the hall of fame of intellectual pursuits. Judging me on the GMAT alone is akin to judging a boxer by only his last fight. There is a total body of work to be considered. When you take that into account, the scales tilt at least to even, if not in my favor.

So, while I’m disappointed I didn’t score a knockout against the GMAT, I am happy when professors ask me my score because it gives me a chance to qualify the data, something the score report can’t do. Instantly, I am able to give context and a view into my total body of work. Plus, after talking to me for 15-20 minutes, hopefully they believe I am not an idiot, but that I am, in fact, a contender.

III

A Day in the Life of Not Very Much Life at All

This is for everyone who wonders what it is that I do all day now that I am no longer gainfully employed. I wish I could impress you with stories of a rock star-like lifestyle of late nights, lavish parties, and scandalous activities. Unfortunately, at the moment, I’m pretty darn boring. Take a gander at a pretty typical time line:

7:00 – 8:00 AM
At some point during this hour, I wake up and decide to get out of bed. I say “at some point”, because I don’t really set an alarm any more (hey, I said my life was boring…I didn’t say it sucked). My 65-pound mutt is always at my feet. He and I exchange pleasantries, I open the sliding glass door for him to come and goes he pleases, and I put food in his bowl.

8:00 AM
I try to workout first thing, though that has been limited lately (no running) because of the excessive amount of snow and ice that has paralyzed much of the metro area. After the workout, I hop in a steaming hot shower, get dressed, and drink a protein shake for breakfast #1.

10:00 AM
I make breakfast #2, which consists of eggs with salsa and black beans (don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it), coffee (in a French press because I am a snob like that), and oatmeal (the instant kind because I am lazy like that). Interesting paradox, to say the least. I am sure that this combination says something about me that I may not be entirely comfortable with. Oh well. While eating, I might return emails, play Words With Friends on my iPhone, and browse the news on my iPad. Yes, I love Apple. A lot.

Once breakfast is done, I read my daily assignment. I’m currently going through a chronological Bible with 365 daily readings. It’s pretty interesting reading things “in order”. Usually, something will strike me and I’ll jot down some thoughts in my journal (Moleskine, of course), and then pray about that and everything else on my mind.

11:00 AM
Taylor and I head to work, which involves an approximate 12-step commute into my office. I spend two hours researching doctoral programs and faculty members, emailing professors with research interests that seem similar to mine, and preparing for any phone calls scheduled for the day. Taylor spends this time lying at my feet, on his futon (yes, it’s his. His monogrammed blanket covers/claims it) in my office, or raising hell at any delivery service (he hates UPS the most) that dare bring their truck onto our street.

1:00 PM
Lunch time. The menu can vary. Sometimes, it’s a toasted turkey and cheese sandwich with bread and butter pickles and chips. Other times, it’s jambalaya or red beans and rice, hold the rice. If I’m feeling the need for more calories, it’s chicken, potatoes, and mixed vegetables. (If you haven’t noticed by now, food is kind of important to me.) Lunch is paired with an episode of LOST, courtesy of Netflix. Oh, and I’m about to wrap up season two (yes, I know that I’m 6 years behind the rest of the world) so don’t go ruining anything for me. Also, as a sort of public service announcement, if you have never watched LOST and don’t feel like dedicating 90 hours of your life and a considerable amount of brain cells to the task of trying to understand it, don’t start watching it. Don’t do it. I’m serious. If you enjoy psychology and character development, you can’t stop watching. It’s like cocaine (well, at least from what I’ve heard).

2:00 PM
Often, there is a call scheduled with a faculty member at some point in early afternoon. I’ll review my notes beforehand to get ready and practice my elevator speech about my background and research interests. The calls vary in length from 10 minutes to 45 minutes, with the majority falling in the 15-20 minute range. It’s difficult to create a bond and sell yourself as a viable candidate in 15 minutes, but you’d be surprised how much ground you can cover if you’re well prepared. Despite reportedly massive egos, most of the academics I’ve spoken with have not been quite as eager to talk about themselves and their research. They usually cover the basics, tell me about the program, and ask a couple questions of me. I’ve been fortunate enough to stumble upon a few members of admissions committees. This is a HUGE bonus, because it allows me to get a sense of whether I have a chance to get serious consideration and potentially move to an interview round. The GMAT almost always comes up (more on that in a subsequent post) and I get a chance to explain my lower than hoped for score and combat it with my published research and engineering background (relevant because of the analytical and quantitative skills gained).

4:00 PM, and beyond
This is a toss-up period. The activities usually include a snack, a walk with Taylor, teaching myself to speed read (in hopeful anticipation of being prepared to devour mountains of research papers and texts in the Fall), perusing the web, writing (for the blog and some other projects), cleaning, and catching up on more emails and phone calls. Pretty soon, this will also include attempting to sell the majority of my worldly possessions on ebay or Craigslist. So, if you need anything, contact me first. Really. Contact me. I probably have it, don’t need it, want to get rid of it, and could use the cash.

Obviously, I eat again before bed. The time depends largely on when I get hungry and the meal is some sort of basic meat and veggies combo. If I’ve been a good boy with my budget, I might even agree to a dinner out. Those outings are more rare these days, though. After supper, I’ll read a little more and sneak in an episode of Criminal Minds, Tosh.0, Modern Family, or The Mentalist with the occasional adult beverage. NOTE: I never knew I liked  non-sports TV until I got one. Then, it’s off to bed.

There you have it. Pretty plain. Less stressful than my professional life, for sure (other than wondering where on earth I’ll be in 9 months and what, exactly, I’ll be doing), but still fairly full. I’ve tried to provide a little structure and give myself projects, goals, and time lines so that I don’t condition myself to aimless freedom and waste all this valuable time I have. Then, at the end of this transition period, hopefully I’ll have more than just an empty bank account to show for it.

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