Coping with Rejection: How Not to Suck at Grad School

Coping with Rejection: How Not to Suck at Grad School

SR Shaw

Rejection happens to every academic. Most academics have many many times more rejected manuscripts and unfunded grants than successes. Nearly every academic knows that rejection is part of the job, a necessary step to improving work, and is simply part of the process of producing scholarly work for wide consumption. Rejection is not failure, but a necessary step toward success. Knowing this information does not help. Rejection stings. Experienced academics will say, “It is part of the job. Get over it.” This is as useful as the classic stupid advice such as, “Calm down” and “Have you tried not being depressed?” Multiple rejections tend to cumulate and cause deep professional and psychological distress. There are many coping strategies that people use to address rejection. You will find a coping mechanism that works for you. Here is how I think about rejection:

As an aside, rejection is part of real life. A potential romantic partner is not sufficiently interested. Your attempt to cook chicken paprikash results in family scorn and disgust. You fail a driving test. A financial investment does not work out as planned. We rarely get everything we want. But some rejection cuts even deeper. Imagine being a poet, actor, or artist where rejection of your work reflects on your ability to tap into deep elements of your soul. Academic rejection is also personal as it reflects on our ability, skill, and suitability to a career where most of us can easily be replaced in a pitiless system of limited contracts, constricted budgets, and a competitive culture that arises from these realities. I think it is a good idea to normalize rejections in academic work. But no matter what anyone says, rejection sucks.    

Rejected papers and unfunded projects are ego blows and reinforce our anxiety-driven imposter syndrome. Some reviews are unnecessarily personal. Manuscript reviews often make the rejection about the authors. Those hurt the vulnerable and can crush the ego. I am not sure why mean-spirited comments about how “the author could benefit by having a native English speaker edit the paper prior to submission” or how “the author must be an undergraduate student” help improve a paper. When there are actual or implied personal references, I seek consultation with an experienced colleague to ensure I am perceiving the review accurately. I often bring a less-than-helpful personal reviews to the attention of the editor. Yes, I may pass editorial judgment on the reviewer, but reviewers needs to be accountable for their work and punching down on the vulnerable is not cool. A bit pedantic, but it helps to stand up for yourself and contribute to the productive tone of peer reviews in the future. More useful, mine for nuggets of useful information along the with the dreck of a personal comments.

Other reviews and decisions appear to be arbitrary. Or the reviews appear to be careless and haphazard, which is not unusual for reviews that are usually volunteer work. You can challenge a review or appeal a decision. But seriously, don’t do that. Move on to another journal. Most appeals reek of late-night texts to your ex. They are just not that into you, you don’t want to publish where the people cannot appreciate your work, and you can do better. Remember that are thousands of journals out there. Even worse, when a review is spot-on and perfectly identifies errors. These accurate negative reviews might hurt worst of all.

The ability to cope with inevitable rejections may be one of the best predictors of success in academia. To continue to work and produce at a high rate despite a reinforcement schedule that is delayed in the best of times and apparently random and lean in the worst of times requires mindful consideration of what rejection means and how your work can benefit from rejection.

Basic Strategies

It is the work, dummy. I have a single-minded focus on improving. If the editorial decision is accept, then I hope the reviews improve the product. If the editorial decision is reject, then I hope the reviews improve the product. I am not better or worse at my job due to rejection. There is always another project. And there is a home for every paper. You were not rejected, your manuscript was denied publication in a journal that likely rejects more than 50% of submissions. Repeat after me: it is not me, it is the work. Make the work better. After rejection, learn, get better, find a new home for your project, get help from a colleague or mentor, improve it, and persist. Even a paper that completely crashes and burns with some fatal flaw can be salvaged for parts for the next project: several paragraphs from the intro, descriptions of some methods, formatting of results, figure designs, and the like can be used to make the next project better.  

Control what you can. Make your project the best possible manuscript. Have others review or use a pre-print service to get feedback. Match your work to a journal. Format it correctly to the idiosyncratic issues of the journal. I know what people say about that, “I don’t have time for that.” My response is, “Do you have time for a rejection?” Make the manuscript your best effort. Submitting a poorly edited half-assed effort because you expect the reviewers to write your paper for your is a poor strategy. Even when you do your very best work, there is still a chance of rejection.   

Rejection is a luxury. Weirdly, I am usually grateful that a random reviewer volunteers their time and expertise to keep me from embarrassing myself by publishing substandard work. Yeah, it’s a love-hate thing. Thanks for teaching me some new things and thanks for finding the flaws, but you suck, Reviewer #2. A bit absurd, but it works for me.

Think strategically. Many negative reviews are because there was little research put into the nature of the journal or funding agency. Carefully review and read papers that have been published under the editorship of the current editor. Your paper needs to fit perfectly with the type and style of topic and methods. If the thought is, “I want to publish in Top of the Mountain Journal X, so I will argue my paper that does not quite fit is different and special…” Then you are going to have a bad time. Your paper will be rejected. Moreover, a poor fit between paper and journal almost ensures that the reviews will not be productive, or you will receive the merciful desk reject. If you think that your work is so pure, brilliant, and perfect that writing in a tone or using a method consistent with the journal’s style and mission is below you, then you are going to have a bad time. Editors not only evaluate quality of research and manuscripts, but also curate a collection of scholarship in a volume. Time invested in finding the perfect journal or funding source to match your work strategically is time well spent.

Have multiple projects rolling into the pipeline. I like to have at least two projects under review at any one time. I am not an especially prolific author of manuscripts, probably below average for a top research university. Nor am I especially ambitious with a need to push ideas or win awards. However, I want to have multiple projects under review to protect my ego. When an inevitable rejection arrives, I have the hope that the next paper will receive a better fate. Having only one project under review is quite stressful. This is a highly motivating state for me to get something new into the review pipeline. Placing too much personal resource into a single paper that is “your baby” or “put your heart and soul” into a manuscript is a poor use of emotional resources. You produced a thing. Hopefully, you will produce more and increasingly better things.    

Share the load. Share the load and the emotional blows of early rejections with others. Co-authoring papers has many advantages. An underrated advantage is shared responsibility and commiseration when experiencing rejections. Being a member of an academic writing group that honestly shares ups and downs is also a good resource.  

Being ground down. No single rejection bothers me anymore. A recent situation was that five consecutive projects were rejected. The cumulative effect of the rejections got me down. I was wondering if I was experiencing some cognitive decline or if I were somehow blackballed from publishing. I was afraid to submit another paper. No less than 8 people reviewed the next article before I clicked the submit button. Accepted with minor revisions and all was right with the world.     

Stages

When that rejection comes, here are the stages I go through:

1)     Profanity. Then I put it away and go on with my day.

2)     I schedule an hour in my calendar within the week to review the comments carefully.

3)     I highlight the reviewers’ points, areas, and topics to be revised. Also note when the reviewers got something wrong because that usually means I was not clear enough.

4)     Develop a submission strategy to the same journal or a new journal.

5)     Same journal means a point-by-point addressing of the reviewers’ concerns. New journal means documentation is not needed. But note that even in a new journal, the same reviewer might be assigned due to subject area expertise—and they want to see their ideas incorporated into a new draft.  

6)     In my writing queue, I finish my current project first before undertaking major revisions of a rejected paper (FYI—in my mind, Revise and Resubmit decisions are the same as rejections—a lot of work to be done).

7)     Make revisions (or reanalyze data, rerun the experiment, or whatever is required) with the new journal or improving the fit with rejecting journal always in mind.

8)     Rework cover letter because the last cover letter didn’t work.  

9)     Submit. Keep those balls in the air and juggle as fast as you can.

10) Thank your co-authors. Toast your submission with the adult beverage of your choice. Celebrating submissions is far healthier than celebrating acceptances.

Conclusion

Rejections suck. No way around it. When I worked at a hospital and my kids were ask what their dad does, they would say, “He works at a hospital and helps kids.” When I moved to academia and they were asked the same question, they would say, “He stares at his computer all day and swears a lot.” Laugh at your rejections. Learn from your rejections. Always have a new project underway, something that will give you hope no matter how many rejections come your way for the previous project.

 

 

Steven R. Shaw is associate professor in the Department of Educational and Counselling Psychology at McGill University in Montreal, QC, Canada.