PhD entry in IITs tougher for students from marginalised communities

 Despite official policy, OBC, SC and ST applicants less likely to gain admission as compared to those from General Categories

Scheduled Caste and Scheduled Tribe applicants are half as likely to get selected for a Ph.D. programme at leading IITs in the country as aspirants from the General Category (GC) are.

Data collated from a series of RTI applications, including from The Hindu, on the number of applicants versus the number of those admitted to Ph.D. programmes in the five older IITs has indicated that the acceptance rate is skewed against students from the SC, ST, and Other Backward Classes (OBC) communities.

The acceptance rate, which refers to the number of students selected for every 100 students who applied, stood at 4% for students from historically privileged castes (General Category). It falls to 2.7% for OBC students and further down to just 2.16% for SCs and 2.2% for STs.

Policy ignored

This finding comes against the backdrop of the Education Ministry’s data submitted to Parliament last year showing the failure of the IITs to fill Ph.D. seats as per reservation.

It showed that of the total admissions made by all IITs from 2015 to 2019, only 2.1% went to STs and 9.1% to SCs. The government’s reservation policy mandates allocation of 7.5% seats for students from the STs and 15% from SCs.

Similarly, 23.2% seats went to applicants from the OBCs against the 27% mandated by reservation. Remaining 65.6%, or roughly two-thirds of all the seats, went to GC applicants.

The IITs have often cited the lack of applicants from the marginalised communities for the situation. However, the RTI data reveals quite the opposite.

Five-year period

The RTI query data covered 3,279 Ph.D. admissions made from among 95,445 applicants in the five-year period from 2015 to 2019 in the four popular departments of civil (CE), electrical (EE), computer science (CSE), and mechanical (ME) engineering departments in the IITs of Madras, Bombay, Delhi, Kanpur, and Kharagpur.

These five IITs accounted for nearly 60% of all Ph.D. admissions made by all 23 IITs. Within these five IITs, the four departments included in the analysis accounted for roughly 25% of all the admissions made in around 80 different departments offering Ph.D.s.

The trend of acceptance rate being significantly higher for GC students is more pronounced in the Delhi, Madras, Bombay and Kanpur IITs. Though the skewed acceptance rate was observed in IIT Kharagpur also, it did marginally better.

In absolute numbers, only 238 of the 11,019 SC applicants and 40 of the 1,809 ST applicants got selected, according to the RTI data.

The disparity is more visible when the proportion of each category of applicants was compared with their proportion among those who gained admission.

The percentage of GC students among those admitted was always higher than their percentage among those applied. However, the converse was true for OBC, SC and ST candidates. Their percentages among those admitted was always lower than their respective percentages among applicants.

For instance, in IIT Delhi, while 63.3% of all applicants were from GC, they accounted for 76.3% among those admitted. In contrast, the percentage of OBC, SC and ST candidates dropped from 22.9%, 11.9% and 1.9% in the application stage to 17%, 6% and 0.7%, respectively, in the admission stage.

Few of the specific instances where the skewed admission rate was striking included the January 2019 admission cycle in EEE in IIT Delhi. Of the 195 SC applicants, only three were selected (acceptance rate of 1.5%) while none were selected from the 30 ST applicants. In contrast, 50 students were selected from the 1,071 GC applicants (4.7%).

In the July 2016 admission cycle in EEE in IIT Kanpur, 29 candidates were selected from 396 GC applicants (7.3%) while not a single one of the 46 SC applicants made it.

Bucking the trend

Interestingly, data from IIT Guwahati painted a different picture, countering the explanations for the disparity in other IITs.

According to data on 456 admissions and 13,033 applicants provided by IIT Guwahati, the acceptance rates for students from marginalised communities were roughly similar or even higher than GC students.

While the acceptance rate for GC candidates was 3.3%, it was 4% for OBCs, 3.4% for SCs, and 4.9% for STs.

While IIT Guwahati also failed to fulfil the reservation-mandated allocation of seats, it was the only major IIT that came closest to the desired numbers. The percentage of OBC, SC and ST candidates among those admitted were respectively 21%, 12.3% and 5.5%.

‘Selection bias’

Responding to the data, Professor and Chair in the Department of Anthropology at Harvard University Ajantha Subramanian said it was far more likely that the failure to fill the reserved seats was due to selection bias.

Professor Subramanian, who has written on the workings of upper caste privileges in the IITs in her book The Caste of Merit, told The Hindu, “There has been long-standing opposition among IIT administrators and faculty to reservations, which they see as a form of unjust government intervention in their meritocratic institutions.”

Arguing that the data showed the pyramidal structure of Indian education in which exclusion increased as one moved through advancing degrees, Professor Subramanian said the argument of “merit” was often used as an alibi for continuing social exclusion.

“A truly just admissions policy must directly address the vastly different circumstances from which students come so that so-called ‘merit’ is recognised as the by-product of unfair structural advantages and not simply as innate talent,” she said.

The recent report of an Education Ministry-constituted committee, which included administrators from a few IITs, has faced criticism for recommending the abolition of reservation in faculty recruitment.

Sukhdeo Thorat, Professor Emeritus, Jawaharlal Nehru University, and former Chairman of University Grants Commission, who previously headed a committee to look into caste-based discrimination at the All India Institute of Medical Sciences, said the data highlighted the need for a further detailed study on the issue.

He stressed the need for increased transparency in the admission process and the presence of OBC, SC and ST members on the selection panels.

ChintaBar, a student collective in IIT Madras, has said the acceptance rate must ideally be higher for students from reserved categories with different cut-off marks for them.

Pointing out that the number of applicants from reserved categories was many times higher than the reserved seats, it urged the IITs to follow reservation in letter and spirit.

The Hindu reached out to the six IITs for their comment. IIT Delhi and IIT Kharagpur did not respond to repeated queries.

The other IITs ruled out the possibility of any bias in the selection process, and said the admissions were conducted in a fair manner. Confirming that the reservation policies were followed in all seats funded by the Education Minstry and different cut-off marks were followed for reserved category students, they said efforts were being made to fill seats as per reservation.

IIT Guwahati did not directly answer a question on reasons for the acceptance rate being uniform. The institute, however, said it was working towards admission policies to ensure all seats under reserved categories were filled.

Students from the Scheduled Caste (SC) and Scheduled Tribe (ST) communities have significantly poor representation and acceptance rate in Ph.D programmes at the Indian Institute of Technology (IIT) Madras, analysis of data obtained through the Right to Information (RTI) Act revealed.

The analysis was based on data provided by IIT Madras regarding 2,195 admissions made from 54,462 applicants in the five-year period from 2015 to 2019.

The data showed that SC students numbered only 7.6% and STs were just 1.2%. The reservation policy requires that 15% of seats be allocated to SCs and 7.5% to STs.

Moreover, the data showed a significant difference in the acceptance rate, which refers to the number of students admitted for every 100 applicants. While General Category (GC) students, which in the case of the IITs predominantly refers to those from historically privileged communities, had an acceptance rate of 4.4%, it was 2.9% for SCs and 2.7% for STs.

Only 167 of the 5,855 SC applicants and 27 of the 991 ST applicants were selected.

Interestingly, the institution had filled the reservation-mandated seats for Other Backward Classes (OBCs), thanks to nine of the 16 departments that managed to fill the seats. . 29.8% of the seats went to OBC candidates against the 27% of minimum allocation to be done as per reservation norms. The remaining 61.6% seats went to the GC category.

Though IIT Madras had admitted 3,874 Ph.D. scholars from 2015 to 2019 according to the data submitted by the Ministry of Education in the Parliament last year, it provided community-wise data on applications and admissions for only 2,195 admissions (57% of the total).

Despite appeals through RTI, a few of the 16 research departments in IIT Madras did not give data for some semesters. For the Mathematics Department, the administration said it had data for only one semester.

It can be noted, however, that the RTI data followed a fairly similar pattern to that of the data submitted to the Parliament in terms of seat allocation. Of the 3,874 admissions, 64.4% went to the GCs, 27.9% to OBCs, and only 6.4% to SCs and 1.3% to STs.

The RTI data threw light on how the difference in acceptance rate was more pronounced in some departments.

For instance, in Aerospace Engineering (AE), the acceptance rate was 6.6% for GCs and only 1.7% for SCs. In absolute numbers, only five of the 292 SC applicants were selected. In contrast, 100 applicants were selected from the 1,520 GC candidates.

A stark difference in acceptance rate was also observed in Applied Mechanics, Electrical Engineering, Humanities and Social Sciences, and Management Studies, between GC and SC applicants.

The Department of Computer Science and Engineering had one of the highest number of applicants from SC and ST categories. From the 755 SC applicants, only four were selected and from 136 ST applicants, none were selected. 

While the overall acceptance rate was lower in the department, it was lower still for SC and ST applicants.

Engineering Design and Mechanical Engineering were among the exceptions, with similar acceptance rates for all categories. While most departments had poor acceptance rates for STs, departments like Physics, Metallurgical and Materials Engineering, and Ocean Engineering, had better acceptance rates for SCs. Consequently, they came closer to filling seats as per the reservation rules.

Ruling out the possibility that the difference in acceptance rate was due to selection bias, Bhaskar Ramamurthi, Director, IIT Madras, said that the institution in fact adopted a strategy of calling a high percentage of SC and ST applicants for interview.

He said that an internal analysis of the past three years of data showed that SC and ST candidates were roughly 10% and 1.7% of the total applicants to the institution. He said that while 32% of applicants were called for an interview overall, the rate was 65% for SC and ST candidates.

“Only 25 to 30% of those from SC/ST categories who are called attended the interview,” he said. While the percentage selected among those interviewed was 24% overall, it was 16% for the reserved categories. “The acceptance rate for SC/ST is therefore not lower given that the calling rate is double,” he said.

On how the institution filled the seats reserved for OBC with the acceptance rate being better, he said, “We do not know why, but are happy that this is so.”

RTI data for 2015-2019 reveals poor acceptance rate for students from marginalised communities, with 25 of 26 departments not filling OBC, SC quotas either.

None of the 26 departments in IIT Bombay managed to fill seats reserved for Scheduled Tribe students in Ph.D. programmes between 2015 to 2019, according to data obtained through Right to Information queries.

The data obtained by the Ambedkar Periyar Phule Study Circle, a student collective in IIT Bombay, showed that 25 of the 26 departments failed to fill Other Backward Classes (OBC) and Scheduled Castes (SC) quota as well. Eleven of the 26 departments did not admit a single student under ST category in the period under question.

Of the 2,874 admissions for which data was provided by the institution, 71.6 % went to General Category (GC) students, which in terms of IITs predominantly constituted students from historically privileged communities; 19.2 % went to OBCs, 7.5 % to SCs and 1.6 % to STs. Reservation policy demands a minimum allocation of 27% to OBCs, 15% to SCs and 7.5% to STs.

Skewed entry

In 13 of the 26 departments, more than 75% of the seats went to students under GC.

The data showed the acceptance rate, which refers to the number of students selected for every 100 applicants, to be lower for students from reserved categories than those from GC. While the acceptance rate was 3.8% for GC, it was 3.1% for OBCs and STs and 2.5% for SCs.

In 16 of the 26 departments, this skew in acceptance rate was more pronounced with SC and ST students having acceptance rates at half or lower those for GC applicants.

For instance, Electrical Engineering (EE) and Mechanical Engineering (ME) departments had the highest number of ST applicants. While two of the 148 ST applicants got selected in EE with an acceptance rate of 1.4%, the acceptance rate was 3.8% for GC. In ME, not a single ST candidate from 110 applicants got selected whereas 168 students were selected from 4,590 applicants under GC with an acceptance rate of 3.7%.

In the Energy Sciences and Engineering department, only 5 of the 610 SC applicants got selected with an acceptance rate of 0.8%. In contrast 82 from 3,902 GC applicants got selected with an acceptance rate of 2.1%.

Computer Science was one of the few departments that recorded dismal acceptance rates across OBC, SC and ST categories. Only five from 797 OBC applicants, four from 495 SC applicants and one from 78 ST applicants were selected with an acceptance rate of 0.6%, 0.8% and 1.3% respectively. In contrast 69 applicants from 2,997 GC applicants were selected with an acceptance rate of 2.3%.

The Centre for Studies in Resource Engineering (CSRE) and SJM School of Management (SJMSM) were the two departments that did not admit a single student from among SC and ST applicants. The two departments together selected 74 students from among 1,780 applicants under GC. However, none were selected from 313 SC and ST applicants.

Environment Science and Engineering (ESE) and Centre for Policy Studies were the only departments to fill seats reserved for OBC and SC students. ESE and Humanities and Social Sciences (HSS) came closer to filling seats reserved for STs. HSS also had marginally better acceptance rate for OBC, SC and ST applicants.

Interview

The data also indicated that more students from marginalised communities were rejected at the interview stage.

A comparison of the proportion of students from different categories showed that their proportion remained fairly the same at the application stage and the interview stage. Overall, around 12% of applicants got rejected; the remaining 88% made it to the interview stage.

However, among those selected post the interviews, while the percentage of GC increased to 71.6%, the proportion of students from all other categories went down.

GC candidates accounted for 64.8%, OBCs 22.2%, SCs 11.1% and STs 1.9% in both application and interview stages. However, among those selected post the interviews, while the percentage of GC increased to 71.6%, the proportion of students from all other categories went down.

‘Fair selection’

In response to queries on the data, the IIT Bombay administration said that the selection process was fair and transparent.

“Lower cut-offs and extra efforts are made to take candidates as per reservation categories to fill the seats,” a spokesperson for the Institute said.

On the acceptance rate being different, the spokesperson said, “IITs have very high expectations of our student input, which is needed to carry out research towards a Ph.D.”

“While we do get sufficient candidates in certain departments, in some other departments, students of the required calibre tend to take up industry jobs rather than join for a Ph.D which has extra uncertainties and lower income levels during Ph.D and in some areas even post Ph.D. It is possible that the family background and economic level may have an impact on such candidates applying for a Ph.D. This requires a proper socio-economic study,” the spokesperson added.

(Source: The Hindu)

As PhD season beckons graduate students, this novel is a graphic reminder of the hell of academia

Tiphaine Rivière’s ‘Notes On A Thesis’, translated from the French by Francesca Barrie, is a reminder of all that can go wrong, and probably will.

The post-graduate admission season is upon many college graduates once again, as millions of hopefuls across the world – and India – wait with bated breath for their acceptance letters to PhD programmes and graduate school, while others get ready to embark on their research stints. For students looking for a sneak preview of what might – and the operative word is “might” – lie in store, there is no better time to pick up Tiphaine Rivière’s 2016 graphic novel, Notes On a Thesis, a no-holds-barred case study of the modern PhD student’s journey.

It tells the story of 20-something Jeanne Dargan, the embodiment of impostor syndrome –a persistent mental roadblock for some students which causes them to disbelieve or downplay their achievements. The text opens with an incredibly insightful scene of the schoolteacher’s reaction to a professor’s response to her PhD thesis proposal. “Fed up” of her unrewarding job, she is over the moon when he offers to be her academic supervisor. After celebrating for all of about 30 seconds, she asks her partner if he minds “checking the email” in case “someone’s pranking [her]”. He confirms the news, and the celebrations continue.

‘No dream job’

Jeanne’s reaction to the news is fascinating – her immediate instinct is to second-guess her achievement. This is just the first of Rivière’s many insights into the mind of the self-doubting, first-time academic. More broadly, her narrative is a humorous dissection of the idiosyncrasies, apathies, and double-standards that plague academia and its machinery.

Rivière’s text is a masterful exposé of the sad state of modern academia. She uses self-deprecating humour (the favourite of millennials everywhere) and piercing irony to expose its thankless and isolating nature. She also reveals the colossal gap between students’ expectations of entering academia, and its tiresome reality. For Jeanne, what started as a passion project quickly becomes the bane of her existence. This text, as if waving its arms and shaking the reader’s shoulders, screams that in reality, “a PhD is no dream job”.

While the graphic novel has been translated from French to English, the translator, Francesca Barrie, retains the sharp wit that is characteristic of French voices. Indeed, it is difficult to tell it is a translated work at all. At the same time, because this is a graphic novel, Barrie faces the challenge of fitting each translated rendering within the constraints of the pre-existing speech bubbles. Even so, Barrie delivers superbly, and the dialogue feels contemporary, and rolls off the tongue.

Indeed, Barrie does readers everywhere a favour with her translation; this is a work of fiction all college libraries will gain tremendous value from. Her translations perfectly complement Rivière’s visuals, which are rooted in iconic French landmarks.

A morbid refrain

Jeanne’s particular case of impostor syndrome is followed by an almost irrational urge to throw all her weight behind the project, perhaps inspired by the author’s real-life experience of writing her own PhD thesis in three years. Yet, the novel is so much more than an autobiographical chronicling of a thesis-writing journey. Rivière undercuts the text by illustrating the dangerous streak of manic perfectionism in young researchers today, which gives rise to deep anxiety and depression. She critiques this idea of the modern academic subject being programmed to robotically soldier on past each deadline, until they snap.

Jeanne’s “not a day more” spiel, right on cue at the end of almost each section, serves as a morbid refrain that bookends this obsession. Even though the text is a scathing critique of academia and its people, it is not only empathetic towards Jeanne, but also towards figures like professors and the people in charge of funding, for they have their own constraints. Similarly, it shows how professors lose sight of their priorities after achieving success in their field.

The novel comes to life with the rich visual detail Rivière injects into every page with composites of various forms, like Jeanne’s notes and schedules, screenshots of emails with professors, scans of student IDs, and of course, various types of bureaucratic paperwork littered throughout. The illustrations are made in an easy-breezy, cartoony style, and the characters’ expressions are punchy and larger-than-life.

The devil is really in the details with this novel. Each page is laid out uniquely and given a distinct visual style. The backgrounds allow the characters to pop, as they are often solid colours, or feature monochromatic, fuzzily drawn details. This creates visual depth in the panels and anchors the characters in the foreground. The drawings are simple, yet animate both the body and mind of each character, coasting the eye along the page.

As the narrative gets darker in theme and plot, the colour scheme follows, with the muted yellows being replaced with darker shades of blue in the second half. The striking visual metaphors capture Rivière’s unique understanding of the world of academia, and force the reader to stop and reflect. In fact, the amount of reflection Jeanne does almost lifts off and out of the page, forcing the reader to introspect as well.

Between the lines

Rivière’s linework and spacework push the form and elevate Notes On A Thesis above your average graphic novel. Traditional rectangular panels are dissected, switched out for circular ones, or sometimes ditched altogether. She also uses gutters in ingenuous ways for us to read between the lines.

The way Rivière uses space in this text heightens the reader’s understanding of Jeanne’s interiority. For example, the reader feels like they are sitting alongside Jeanne in a scene where she crouches in a corner with her thoughts. Both the reader and Jeanne become small as the room suddenly grows in size, now occupying the entire page.

Her final paper presentation is represented as a maniacal swimming session where she is literally whirling through words and gasping to come up for air. The author also takes us through each “hurdle” of the highly exclusive academic fortress that is the BNF, the national library of France, “a second home for all Parisian PhD students”. This is a microcosm of academia itself, and its illustration emphasises its exclusionary nature.

So intimidated is Jeanne by the students in her first lecture that they are represented as tigers. They transform into kittens in the following panel only after a student asks an intellectually low-stakes question about the nature of their assessment, as Jeanne realises “they’re just babies after all”. Rivière also captures the sense of inadequacy fuelled by painful small talk between colleagues around research topics. Such people literally eat up her speech bubbles while bombarding her with theirs.

It’s so bad that Jeanne literally holds up a mask to converse with a peer, while putting a gun in her mouth behind it. While she borrows book after reference book, she gets little work done. Her initial drive is no match for the temptation of procrastination. This is embodied by the visual representation of her thesis, drawn as a warped set of buildings, which later take on a monstrous, kraken-like form.

For the students, the drive to succeed literally changes them forever, and is a kind of unique trauma inflicted on their bodies, as well as their brains. The first PhD students the reader meets are overworked and feel purposeless. One student is pictured visiting a shrink, because they “feel like a fraud”, yet another nod to impostor syndrome. The more seasoned students look disturbing. Overcome with physical and mental fatigue, they look like the undead.

Their resignation is indicated by speech bubbles that drip downwards like melted wax, as if they will fall off the page. At various points in the text, we see Jeanne’s ID from over the years. The image of her in her final year resembles the after picture of a serious drug addict.

Through the point-of-view shifts in the text, Rivière demonstrates the often divergent concerns and experiences of the side characters relative to Jeanne. These uninterested professors, lazy doctoral officers, and oblivious loved ones curb and curtail the passion of young researchers. They ensure that the PhD quest is a maddening one, and Jeanne is discouraged by them time and time again. Rivière uses these characters to vividly frame the unglamorous and thankless portrayal of the path to academia.

For student readers, the actions of these characters may feel so familiar at times that they may just invoke the image of their real-life counterpart. For example, we all know a Pauline, Karpov’s teaching assistant, a teacher’s pet who make overbearing jokes with the professor and feel that exam grades give a “good idea” of one’s “true intelligence”.

Advisor from hell

Krapov, Jeanne’s supervisor, represents the indifferent, problematic academic more interested in securing grants than listening to a student’s ideas. Despite being a visionary on Kafka, he has hardly any interest in Jeanne’s work. He offers her some generic improvised remarks in their first meeting, and essentially, no feedback: “It would be wrong to constrain you with limiting directives at this point”.

This scene is humorous due to the dramatic irony Rivière created by the shift in points-of-view with Krapov and Jeanne’s thought bubbles. It also exposes an archetype of academia – the bad advisor. This is someone who will not help you develop your thinking at all. Such critically absent advisors leave the burden of a good thesis solely on the shoulder of the student, adding to their woes. This novel navigates these tensions with its ironic moments, like the one where Jeanne is drawn as a puppy crying for Karpov’s attention.

For anyone undertaking an intensive academic project, Notes On A Thesis should be required reading. It is a first-of-its-kind look into the deep personal and emotional toll of undertaking an academic endeavour like the PhD dissertation. At the same time, the themes will be familiar to all, for each of us has been Jeanne at some point in life – plagued by self-doubt, slaughtered by deadlines, hounded with questions by loved ones who don’t understand, and crushed under the massive weight of uncertainty.

Rivière leaves the novel darkly open-ended, leaving the reader to deal with the political apathy located in newly issued funding cuts and to dream about “what’s next” in their own life. Even though Jeanne completes the thesis, the historical figures of Franz Kafka and Arthur Schopenhauer ensure that the reader does not interpret the ending as hopeful.

We are not left with an introspective notion or a world brimming with possibilities, but an image of the latter as an uncaring void forever implicated in the dangerous phenomenon running through it: the fight for one’s passion, the pressure to always have a plan, and the bane of answering the question: “What’s next?” – all of them sentiments in which Indian readers will definitely see shades of their own experience.

Notes On A Thesis, Tiphaine Rivière, translated by Francesca Barrie, Jonathan Cape, London.

(Source: Scroll)

Brit jailed for life on spy charge in UAE

A British PhD student has been sentenced to life in prison in the United Arab Emirates (UAE) for spying.

Matthew Hedges, 31, of Durham University, has said he is innocent, and that he had been researching the country's security strategy.

Prosecutors say he admitted the charges in an Abu Dhabi court, which found him guilty of "spying for or on behalf of" the UK government.

The PM said the UK was urgently seeking talks with the Emirati government.

Daniela Tejada previously said her husband Matthew Hedges was being held
in "inhumane and degrading" conditions

Theresa May said Foreign Secretary Jeremy Hunt was "seeking a call with Foreign Minister Abdullah bin Zayed".

Mr Hunt said he was "deeply shocked and disappointed" by the verdict.

He said he had raised the case with the "highest levels of the UAE government", adding the verdict was "not what we expect from a friend and trusted partner of the United Kingdom, and runs contrary to earlier assurances".

In a statement, Hedges' family said that during the first six weeks of his detention he was interrogated without a lawyer and consular access was unavailable.

During this time he was made to sign a document in Arabic which transpired to be a confession, they said.

"Matthew does not speak or read Arabic," the family added.

Hedges' wife Daniela Tejada, who was present during the brief hearing earlier, said she was in "complete shock".

Daniela Tejada has repeatedly rejected suggestions her husband,
Matthew Hedges, is a spy

She said: "Matthew is innocent. The Foreign Office know this and have made it clear to the UAE authorities that Matthew is not a spy for them.

"This whole case has been handled appallingly from the very beginning with no-one taking Matthew's case seriously."

She said the British government "must take a stand now" and the UAE authorities "should feel ashamed for such an obvious injustice".

Ms Tejada said her husband shook his head as the verdict was delivered, adding: "I am very scared for Matt.

"I don't know where they are taking him or what will happen now. Our nightmare has gotten even worse."

At prime minister's questions, Tory MP Crispin Blunt told Mrs May she should make clear to the UAE that "if he is not released, I don't see why we should be committed to their defence".

According to Abu Dhabi newspaper The National, a life sentence means a maximum of 25 years in jail, after which Hedges would be deported.

Hedges, who is also liable for the costs of the case, has 30 days to appeal during which time he will be held in custody, the paper reports.

Attorney General Dr Hamad Saif Al Shamsi confirmed the sentence was not final and said Hedges had the right to appeal before the Federal Supreme Court for retrial.

He said: ''The defendant confessed in detail to his crimes during investigations whereby he was accorded his full rights and assurances as per the UAE constitution and state laws to fair and transparent trial."

Dr Al Shamsi said Hedges had appeared in court with British embassy representatives.

Meanwhile, Mr Hunt urged the UAE to reconsider the case.

"Our consular officials have been in close contact with Matthew Hedges and his family," he said.

"We will continue to do everything possible to support him."

Matthew Hedges was detained at Dubai Airport in May

Hedges is said to be in a poor state of mental health, the BBC understands, and Ms Tejada has previously criticised the lack of treatment he has received in prison.

His family allege his physical and mental health "seriously deteriorated" during solitary confinement and he was fed a "cocktail of medication" by guards that caused him to vomit on a daily basis.

Vice-Chancellor of Durham University, Professor Stuart Corbridge, said the conditions Hedges was being held in "breached his human rights".

"[And] this judgement has been delivered in the absence of anything resembling due process or a fair trial," he said.

"There has been no information given on what basis Matt was handed this sentence and no reason to believe that Matt was conducting anything other than legitimate academic research.

"We are committed to doing what we can to get Matt home safely and swiftly."

What are the links between the UK and UAE?
By BBC Reality Check

More than 5,000 UK companies do business in the UAE - it's the UK's largest export market in the Middle East and the 13th biggest in the world.

The UK exported a total of £9.8bn of goods and services in 2016.

The top UK goods exported to the UAE last year were:

• machinery and mechanical appliances
• electrical equipment
• precious stones and metals
• motor vehicles
• optical, photographic and medical equipment
• The UK imported £4.8bn worth of goods and services from the UAE in 2016.

There are about 120,000 UK nationals living in the UAE, according to the UK government.

British educational institutions have a presence too, with 11 UK universities represented.

The UK also has important military ties with the UAE and in 2012 announced a defence partnership with the country.

Last year a BBC investigation uncovered sales of surveillance equipment between a UK company and countries in the region, including the UAE.

(Source: BBC)

Student presents thesis in underwear after professor says her 'shorts are too short'

Letitia Chai said her protest was against 'oppressive beliefs and discrimination' 

A student has stripped down to her bra and underwear during her thesis presentation in protest against her professor’s comments that her choice of clothing was inappropriate.

Letitia Chai, a senior student at Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, took off her clothes during her presentation, which was filmed on Facebook live, to stand up against “oppressive beliefs and discrimination”.

Ms Chai organised the protest after her teacher allegedly questioned her choice of clothing during a test run of her thesis presentation and told her: “Your shorts are too short”.

Describing the incident in a Facebook post, Chai wrote: “She proceeded to tell me in front of my whole class that I was inviting the male gaze away from the content of my presentation and onto my body.”

“I think that I was so taken aback that I didn’t really know how to respond,” she told the Cornell Sun.

Ms Chai said that some students in the class were also surprised by the teacher’s comment but one international student agreed with the teacher and told her she had “a moral obligation to dress more conservatively” in respect for her audience.

“Needless to say, I was shook,” Ms Chai wrote.

After she left the classroom, her teacher came out to talk to her and according to Ms Chai, she asked her what her mother would think of her outfit.

“What would my mom think? My mom is a feminist, gender, sexuality studies professor. She has dedicated her life to the empowerment of people in all gender identities. So, I think my mother would [be] fine with my shorts,” she wrote.

When asked what she was going to do, Ms Chai replied: “I’m going to give the best damn speech of my life.”

Writing on Facebook, Ms Chai invited others to support her on the day of her actual presentation and asked people to “strip down” to their underwear with her during her 15-minute address.

The event was filmed on Facebook Live as Ms Chai removed her clothes and some of the students in the room joined her in support.

She told the audience of several dozens that this was a call for “solidarity” with students like her who had been asked to “question themselves about their appearances for the comfort of others”.

The teacher involved told local media: “I do not tell my students what to wear, nor do I define for them what constitutes appropriate dress. I ask them to reflect for themselves and make their own decisions.”

Following the incident, 11 of the 13 other students in the class issued a statement saying they “supported Ms Chai’s commitment to the cause of women’s rights” but did not agree with her recollection of the events.

“All of us feel that out professor’s words and actions were unfairly represented in the post, with certain quotes taken out of context and we wish to clarify any misunderstandings that may have occurred,” they said.

The students described their teacher as an “outstanding member” of the university and “a gift to Cornell”.

“In an environment like Cornell, where it is so easy to feel dismissed by both your peers and higher-ups, she is unparalleled in her support of us,” the statement read.

(Source: Independent)

The ever-tightening job market for PhDs

More than 12 percent of all Ph.D.s complete their doctoral programs with over $70,000 of combined undergraduate and graduate student-loan debt. Why do so many people continue to pursue doctorates? See what laura Mckenna writes in The Atlantic:

If you’re a grad student, it’s best to read the latest report from the National Science Foundation with a large glass of single-malt whiskey in hand. Scratch that: The top-shelf whiskey is probably out of your budget. Well, Trader Joe’s “Two Buck Chuck” is good, too!

Liquid courage is a necessity when examining the data on Ph.D.s in the latest NSF report, “The Survey of Earned Doctorates,” which utilized figures from the University of Chicago’s National Opinion Research Center. The report finds that many newly minted Ph.D.s complete school after nearly 10 years of studies with significant debt and without the promise of a job. Yet few people seem to be paying attention to these findings; graduate programs are producing more Ph.D.s than ever before.

Getting a Ph.D. has always been a long haul. Despite calls for reform, the time spent in graduate programs hasn’t declined significantly in the past decade. In 2014, students spent eight years on average in graduate school programs to earn a Ph.D. in the social sciences, for example. It takes nine years to get one in the humanities, seven for science fields and engineering, and 12 for education, according to NSF. In other words, Ph.D.s are typically nearing or in their 30s by the time they begin their careers. Many of their friends have probably already banked a decade’s worth of retirement money in a 401K account; some may have already put a down payment on a small town house.

While most doctoral students rely primarily on some combination of grants, teaching assistantships, and research positions to cover tuition and living expenses, they also often use personal savings, spouses’ earnings, and student loans. Consequently, more than 12 percent of all Ph.D.s complete their doctoral programs with over $70,000 of combined undergraduate and graduate student-loan debt. Rates are especially high in the social sciences and education. Those debt levels are alarming, especially because fewer students have jobs lined up immediately after graduation than was the case 10 years ago.

The job market for those with advanced degrees is clearly tightening, according to the NSF study, with many more Ph.D.s in all fields reporting no definite job commitments in 2014 compared to 2004. Nearly 40 percent of the Ph.D.s surveyed in 2014 hadn’t lined up a job—whether in the private industry or academia—at the time of graduation.

It may not be surprising that Ph.D.s in the humanities and social sciences are struggling to find tenure-track faculty jobs. After all, graduate schools produced two new history Ph.D.s for every tenure-track job opening in 2014. However, with the heavy push towards STEM at universities and opportunities for positions in the private industry, the employment woes for engineering and science Ph.D.s are puzzling.

Ph.D. graduates who reported that they had accepted positions found work in the private industry, academia, or as post-docs. Most Ph.D.s in the humanities, education, and social sciences who have secured plans will work in academia—but the report does not indicate whether they are employed in tenure-track positions, in non-tenure track jobs, or as temporary adjunct jobs, which have grown in popularity in recent years.

A Ph.D. who wins the rare job as a tenure-track professor earns on average about $60,000 per year, according to the NSF report. In contrast, post-doc positions—temporary research spots that are most common in the sciences and draw 39 percent of the Ph.D.s with post-graduation commitments at universities—pay a little over $40,000 per year. Incidentally, the median entrance-level salary for college graduates with a B.A. in 2014 was $45,478.

It’s unclear what happens to the 40 percent of Ph.D.s who don’t get a job of some sort—even of the post-doc variety—after graduation. Perhaps some move onto other professions after a year or so. Maybe some work for peanuts as adjuncts. Others may rely on their partner’s income. What’s more, as Inside Higher Ed’s Scott Jaschik notes, the tightening job market means increases in job-market competitiveness, as new Ph.D.s must compete for positions not only with their own cohort but also with the unemployed Ph.D.s. who graduated in previous years.

So, you would think that this kind of information, which has already been discussed in many news articles and books over the years, would dissuade universities from admitting more students. You might even think that super-smart students would try their hands at other careers. After all, when news about the bad employment market for lawyers came out, the number of applications to law schools plummeted. Wouldn’t the same thing happen to Ph.D. programs? Apparently not.

In 2014, doctoral programs in the United States awarded 54,070 Ph.D.s—12,000 more than 2004. All fields, except for education, saw an increase, with the biggest increases in science and engineering.

Why hasn’t all this information helped winnow down the ranks of aspiring professors—why hasn’t it proved to be an effective Ph.D. prophylactic? Are people risking so much in the hopes of getting a cushy job with a six-figure salary and no teaching requirements? Is it because academia is a cult that makes otherwise sane people believe that there is no life outside of the university? Are graduate programs failing to inform their students about the realities of the job market? There are no answers to those questions in the charts and graphs from the NSF.

Without serious changes in higher education, such as higher pay for adjunct professors or decreasing the time spent in graduate school, chances are thousands of new Ph.D.s in their early 30s will be struggling this fall.

A woman interviewed 100 convicted rapists in India. This is what she learned.

In India, many consider them “monsters.”

Madhumita Pandey was only 22 when she first went to Tihar Jail in New Delhi to meet and interview convicted rapists in India. Over the past three years, she has interviewed 100 of them for her doctoral thesis at the criminology department of Anglia Ruskin University in the United Kingdom.

It all started in 2013, first as a pilot project, months after the highly publicized gang rape and murder of a woman now known as “Nirbhaya” meaning “Fearless One.” The details of the case — a young, aspirational medical student who was attacked on the way home with a friend after watching the movie “Life of Pi” — struck a chord in India, where according to the National Crime Records Bureau, 34,651 women reported being raped in 2015, the most recent year on record.

Nirbhaya brought thousands of Indians to the streets to protest the widespread culture of rape and violence against women in 2012. That year, gender specialists ranked India the worst place among G-20 countries to be a woman, worse even than Saudi Arabia where women have to live under the supervision of a male guardian.

“Everyone was thinking the same thing,” said Pandey, who at the time was on the other side of the world, in England, finishing off her master’s. “Why do these men do what they do? We think of them as monsters, we think no human being could do something like that.”

The protests forced a national conversation about rape, a topic which still carries huge stigma in India. Pandey, who grew up in New Delhi, and saw her city in a new light after the Nirbhaya case, said: “I thought, what prompts these men? What are the circumstances which produce men like this? I thought, ask the source.”

Since then, she has spent weeks talking to rapists in Delhi’s Tihar Jail. Most of the men she met there were uneducated, only a handful had graduated high school. Many were third- or fourth-grade dropouts. “When I went to research, I was convinced these men are monsters. But when you talk to them, you realize these are not extraordinary men, they are really ordinary. What they’ve done because of upbringing and thought process.”

Madhumita Pandey

In Indian households, even in more educated families, women are often bound to traditional roles, Pandey said. Many women won’t even use their husbands’ first names, she pointed out. “As an experiment, I phoned a few friends and asked: what does your mom call your dad? The answers I got were things like ‘are you listening,’ ‘listen,’ or ‘father of Ronak’ (the child’s name).’”

“Men are learning to have false ideas about masculinity, and women are also learning to be submissive. It is happening in the same household, Pandey said. “Everyone’s out to make it look like there’s something inherently wrong with [rapists]. But they are a part of our own society. They are not aliens who’ve been brought in from another world.”

Pandey said that hearing some of the rapists talk reminded her of commonly held beliefs that were often parroted even in her own household. “After you speak to [the rapists], it shocks you — these men have the power to make you feel sorry for them. As a woman that’s not how you expect to feel. I would almost forget that these men have been convicted of raping a woman. In my experience a lot of these men don’t realize that what they've done is rape. They don't understand what consent is.”

“Then you ask yourself, is it just these men? Or is the vast majority of men?” she said.

In India, social attitudes are highly conservative. Sex education is left out of most school curriculums; legislators feel such topics could “corrupt” youth and offend traditional values. “Parents won't even say the words like penis, vagina, rape or sex. If they can't get over that, how can they educate young boys?” Pandey asked.

In the interviews, many men made excuses or gave justifications for their actions. Many denied rape happened at all. “There were only three or four who said we are repenting. Others had found a way to put their actions into some justification, neutralize, or blame action onto the victim.”

One case in particular, participant 49, sent Pandey on an unexpected journey. He expressed remorse for raping a 5-year-old girl. “He said ‘yes I feel bad, I ruined her life.’ Now she is no longer a virgin, no one would marry her. Then he said, ‘I would accept her, I will marry her when I come out of jail.’”

The response shocked Pandey so much that she felt compelled to find out about the victim. The man had revealed details of the girl’s whereabouts in the interview. When she found the girl's mother, she learned that the family had not even been told that their daughter’s rapist was in jail.

Pandey hopes to publish her research in the coming months but said she faces hostility for her work. “They think, here comes another feminist. They assume a woman doing research like this will misrepresent men’s ideas. Where do you begin with someone like that?” she said.

(Source: WP)

Is a PhD the path to a grad job?

Ask the waitress with several degrees who worked hard at university. Now she's finding the academic job market too competitive – and employers aren’t interested in her qualifications either. She shares her experience in the Guardian. Read on: 

Today, I applied extra lipgloss, perfect eyeliner, and blow-dried my hair. I went to ask a restaurant manager for a waitressing job. You see, the stakes are high – I’m desperate for even a minimum wage job. This is in spite of the fact I have several university degrees.

With my final PhD draft due in a week, I have degrees in economics, sociology and politics, research skills in qualitative and quantitative methods, teaching experience at universities, a decent publication record, and a significant conference list of presentations. But now I need lipgloss and cafe connections to get a job.

It might be my own fault for having bought into the lie – study hard, get a good job. While I was always warned that full-time academic roles are difficult to attain, I was told that a PhD is an asset. We can get casual research work until we are qualified or, more accurately, connected enough to step into a full-time position. Employers outside the university will value the transferrable skills and critical-thinking capabilities.

This, I have now discovered, is far from the truth. Employers external to the university don’t want a PhD, they want five years of industry experience. Other employers consider me overqualified for basic research tasks. They don’t want to pay the higher rate of employing a PhD.

For those that might scoff, consider the fact that despite my education, I have been living on a scholarship valued just above the poverty line and volunteering my time and research skills to NGOs throughout the course of my doctorate. Ingrained within PhD students is a tendency to work hard; value the experience of the opportunity; and work a significant proportion of the time for an amount nowhere close to what we have trained for.

So, I worked hard. And as my PhD is drawing to a close, I faithfully applied for research work. Causal, part-time, full-time, university, NGO, you name it, I applied. I applied for graduate programmes, requiring only a credit average bachelor’s degree. I applied for administration. I applied in the media industry and in the public sector.

I didn’t even get shortlisted for an interview.

The truth of it is what the university doesn’t tell you. You learn along the way that research, including that produced by PhDs, brings in cash for universities. More PhDs are beneficial for an institution reliant on government funding. But they compete on graduation for fewer jobs in what was an already competitive field. The time spent on producing our PhD effectively renders our previous degrees useless – no graduate employer wants a degree from four years ago.

Even for someone with a PhD, sometimes waitressing jobs feel like the only option. Photograph: Alamy

In Australia, where I study, the emphasis on research production increased. As a result, a number of academics, who had a teaching-only focus, were required to leave my university. A significant proportion of these academics who had focused on teaching were women.

Those wishing to retain an academic job were required to conduct their research in their own time, without a funding budget to support it. This also proved harder for women who still tend to bear the majority of childcare responsibilities. It’s also harder for those from low-income backgrounds, who maintain other work to support their ill-paid academic endeavours.

The pursuit of more funding is also evident in the way universities chase more student enrolments, perpetuating the notion that a degree will guarantee a good job in spite of the oversupply of education. Students are encouraged to select specific majors which will benefit the university. I’ve been requested from the higher ups to grade on a curve since easy grades encourage retention, and I have been prevented from failing students.

When I first started my PhD, I ran a conference desk with someone who had completed her doctorate. What struck me at the time was how bitter and jaded she had become. Working causal tutoring jobs, she was failing to find full-time academic employment five yearsafter completing her PhD. I was confused and told a mentor, who explained that this can happen and that frequently PhD graduates will be exploited with regard to our time and work.

However, she pointed out that no one will employ an individual who appears disgruntled or complains. Therefore, she concluded, just keep smiling and carry on. More perniciously, my mentor also considered that all academics are already aware of the failures of the system, the exploitation that occurs, and the mental health crisis that accompanies it. Aware, and yet so embroiled in the system that action is not only not taken, but actively discouraged in favour of adhering to the status quo.

So, here I sit, a disgruntled graduate of the system. A PhD turned waitress. A waste of taxpayer money, of my own time and that of the people who taught me. I write this as a means to speak out, as I refuse to be another cog in the wheel that turns according to a code of silence. What’s more, I share my story, as I’m sure I know I’m not the only one who’s emerged from the system bewildered, lost, and with a bitter aftertaste of having been cheated – all in the name of funding. 

The human cost of the pressures of postdoctoral research

A paper on conformal algebra has recently caused a stir on social media. Not because of the science, but rather the heartfelt plea in the acknowledgements.

Every scientist knows how difficult it is to get a research paper published; reviewers may take exception to the way a study might have been run, or the way the data are analysed, or how the results have been interpreted. It’s part of the process, and hopefully, the end point is a more scientifically useful paper, something that adds new meaning to a research discipline.

When Oliver Rosten sent a new paper to the Journal of High Energy Physics (JHEP), ultimately it wasn’t rejected because of the science – this was deemed sound. It was because of the acknowledgement:

Acknowledgement that appears in Oliver Rosten’s recent EPJ C paper.
Photograph: Pete Etchells/European Physical Journal C

Rosten met Francis Dolan in 2006, when they were both working on two-year fellowships funded by the Irish Research Council. “We got on well from the start – we had the same sense of humour, and became pretty close friends,” recalls Rosten. “But both of us for different reasons found our time in Dublin to be very stressful.” Indeed, Rosten has since taken a job outside of academia.

Compounding this was a long-term history of depression. “Francis suffered for all of his adult life from depression – I think manic depression,” explains Rosten. “He had staggering creativity as part of that. When he was in the groove, he had these staggering work benders, disappearing for a period, and then emerging with some remarkable new result.”

The postdoctoral period is one of the most difficult in the academic career ladder. Very often, researchers in these positions live on a cycle of short contracts that give them as little as six months to work on a project. It can end up being an extremely isolating experience, especially if it requires a move to a different city or country. Over the course of five years, Dolan held positions in Cambridge, Dublin, Southampton, Amsterdam and Crete, most of which meant living away from his partner.

Around the time he started his stint in Crete, Dolan died by suicide in 2011, at the age of 34. Rosten firmly believes that the nature of the postdoctoral system contributed to Dolan’s death. “There’s this backdrop of short-term contracts, which can often be poorly paid in absolute terms,” he says. “Then this constant moving is a key thing, particularly for those suffering from mental health issues, because basically every couple of years your entire support network can disappear overnight.”

Most work on mental health issues in universities tends to focus on undergraduate or postgraduate students. Yet despite forming the backbone of most academic research, postdocs are often completely missing from this research. That being said, there is some evidence that in comparison to other occupational groups, the overall mental health of those working in academic is relatively poor – in particular, levels of depression and anxiety tend to be inflated. A Guardian survey in 2014 of 2500 academics with self-reported mental health issues suggested that 66% of people agreed that their problems were directly related to their university work. Similarly, two-thirds reported that they had not spoken to anyone in a senior position about their mental health.

Given the lack of data, a recent report commissioned by the Royal Society and Wellcome Trust has argued for the need for more research specifically on the prevalence of psychological distress in postdoctoral populations. Alongside this, it pushes for the development of a standard model for assessing stress and psychological distress in research environments, with a view to developing better quality interventions.

Postdoctoral research can be an isolating experience Photograph: Don McPhee for the Guardian

Rosten would like to see more done at the university level. “Part of the thing that I would really like to see change is every institution have staff whose sole role it is to help the postdoctoral community, particularly at the start, and particularly in terms of training in mental health issues,” he says. One role that these sorts of staff members could have is to make sure that the transition between institutions at the start and end of postdoctoral contacts ensures continuity of mental health care provision – although this idea isn’t without its own issues surrounding logistics and confidentiality.

As for Rosten’s rejection from JHEP, a terse email from the handling editor convinced him to withdraw the paper. “They asked for the acknowledgement to be changed, and I said that I couldn’t do it – it’s an important part of the work for me,” he explains. The editor’s email, in many ways, summed up many of the problems that Rosten was trying to highlight:

I think the first phrase is too much: I guess there were more basic problems in Dolan’s life than the pressure put by physics work. Certainly people, say in businness [sic], behave more brutally than in academia. The second phrase could be OK but a bit out of place: in a scientific paper we discuss about science, not about life.

After a number of other rejections, some based on the scientific content, some based again on the acknowledgement, he eventually decided to contact handling editors directly to see if they would consider keeping the acknowledgment intact if it were to be accepted. “One journal ignored me, but the next journal I came to sent me an incredibly supportive email and said absolutely, this is a really important thing to say.” The paper was published in the European Physical Journal C in July. Rosten is ambivalent about the journey. “Because I wasn’t in academia, I had the luxury of knowing that when I was withdrawing the paper from each journal that it couldn’t harm my career. I’m certain that I would have made the same decision if I was in academia, but realistically I would have paid a price for it.”

When they parted ways after their time together in Dublin, Rosten and Dolan would send each other long emails every few months to keep in touch. Shortly before he died, Rosten was planning on sending him a message – but job interviews got in the way. He explained to me that he will always regret not having the chance to send that last email. Hindsight often has a way of leaving us with indelible marks in this way. But the message in Rosten’s acknowledgement, now a permanent fixture in the scientific record, is perhaps a fitting legacy to the memory of his friend.

(Source: The Guardian)

PhD scholar speaks out on alleged sexual harassment by IIT Bhubaneswar professor

I am giving you the following information regarding sexual harassment at a work place in a national level institute, IIT, which led to the de-registration of me and my husband from the PhD programme on account of sexual harassment.

At that time, I was the only female student in our professor’s laboratory. From day one, I noticed a difference in the way he behaved with me. However, he always used to say I was like his daughter. My soon to be husband joined IIT Bhubaneshwar as a PhD scholar under the same professor in January 2012. He and I got married in November 2012.

After I got married, I could slowly see the ill-intentions of the professor regarding me and other female students in the lab. When he came to know about my pregnancy, he intentionally started to physically and mentally torture me and my husband. He used to force me to use the staircase to go to the lab on the 4th floor. According to him, it was good for my health in that condition. He made comments on my husband’s body language, speaking style, etc. He said that my husband did not behave like a student. However, in reality, he used to interfere in my personal life which was not acceptable to my husband and he’d protest against it.

He said that he came to know about my pregnancy only two months before the delivery. Yet, at such an advanced stage, he pressurized us to shift near the laboratory in the name of convenience, so that I could do research and spend more time in the laboratory, especially the odd times. I was well aware of his intentions and did not entertain the issue.

I took a six-month maternity leave in 2013, as per the PhD regulations in India and also according to the CSIR, JRF and SRF guidelines. But after three months or so, the professor, acting as the Dean R&D at that time, stopped my fellowship. He blamed it on the pending money from the sponsoring agency – CSIR.

After stopping my fellowship, he insisted that I join the laboratory as soon as possible before the end of my leave. I must also mention that the professor always asked me to not apply for any kind of leave.

In my absence, the professor tortured my husband both physically as well as mentally. He would ask him to work more as he was the only male student at that time. The work he’d make my husband do was not even related to academics. It was more like a clerk or peon’s work.

The actual intention of the professor was to keep all the female students near him to fulfil his sexual desires and to push my husband away from the laboratory. He had also suggested that my husband give me a divorce as I was a working woman and would not be able to take care of my family well. All these issues were creating immense pressure on my husband and he was getting more depressed by the day.

Due to all this, I decided to join before my maternity leave ended. The professor saw that I was not able to spend more time (8 am-8 pm) because of my baby. So, he pressured me again to stay near the institute. But all his efforts went in vain as I refused once again.

When he failed to keep me in front of him, he increased the torture on my husband. It went to such an extent that in June 2014, my husband got a brain stroke and had to get operated at the age of 28.

The professor assumed that my husband would not be able to come back to his normal self. So at that time, he behaved in a godlike way with me and assured to help in every way. However, everything changed once my husband recovered and joined in the research work after only two months or so.

My husband’s presence was not welcomed by our professor. He had instructed him to stay away from the other lab mates (three female students including me) to ensure a ‘good environment’. He assumed that my husband would resign from the PhD programme. But instead, my husband started his research work in full swing. To destruct him from his goal, the professor started his mental torture again. He had been admitted to the hospital again, in March 2015.

I always tried to prevent any interaction between my husband and professor as it had a harmful effect on my husband’s health. He also started to avoid him as much as possible. The intention of our professor was clear to us. My aim was to complete our thesis as soon as possible and be free of him.

However, the harassment went on. He called me during odd hours, made a registry for attendance (which was torn by him only after one month or so as our attendance was good). The professor also suggested me to divorce my husband and proposed to send him to an ashram. Not only this, he also assured me that he will give me ₹10,000 a month as I may face difficulties in my life due to the absence of my husband.

When all his tricks did not work, he started to blackmail me in the name of my husband’s degree. He clearly passed the message to me and later to the other lab members that he would not give a degree to my husband. He even tried to stop his semester registration in January 2016 but the Doctoral Advisory Committee (DAC) allowed him as they did not find any problem with his research work.

The professor thought that if he could terrorise me on the basis of my husband’s degree, I would give in to his demands. I tried to get a temporary leave from the PhD programme to stay away from him. But the DAC members didn’t let me because they did not understand the intention of the person.

The DAC asked me to submit a synopsis, which is actually the pre-PhD. report at IIT. In the pressure of DAC, the professor allowed my synopsis to be submitted, which was appreciated by the DAC and other students of the school in the month of June 2016.

After the synopsis report submission, as per the rules of IIT, the scholar has to submit the thesis within 60 days. I submitted my thesis at the professor’s desk for the final correction, which he delayed intentionally and asked me to make an application to Dean of Academics to extend the time of 60 days to 90 days.

During this period, the professor wanted me to have frequent meetings with him in his office at odd hours, which I strongly refused. After that, he tried to create trouble for me from various ways. This was reflected in his denial to sign on my husband’s registration papers in July 2016. He conveyed to the Head of the School, School of Basic Sciences, IIT Bhubaneswar that he will not sign my husband’s thesis under any circumstance.

The harassment reached to such an extent that I was forced to lodge a complaint to the National Women Commission (NCW), Odisha State Women Commission (OSCW), Women Grievance and Redressal Committee (WGRC) and the Internal Complaints Committee. But IIT found it suitable to investigate the matter through the Internal Complaints Committee where not even a single person was up to the rank of a professor and the investigation proceeded with the accused, keeping in mind his influential position.

In the meantime, the head of the school called a meeting with the DAC, my husband and I. In the meeting, the head of the school proposed that my husband leave IIT Bhubaneswar with all the work he had done till date. We protested against this as he spent four vital years of his career at IIT. He had completed his coursework and research work with the requisite number of publications and was fully prepared to submit his thesis. The head of the school kept the case on hold since things didn’t go according to our professor’s wish. He later forwarded it to the Dean of Academics.

After a number of queries put in front of my husband in August 2016, the Dean of Academics asked him to submit the detailed research report for judgment of the status of the thesis. But this act was illegal as the tenure of the PhD in IIT is for eight years and it is unfair to ask for a report after four and half years.

Simultaneously, the professor found serious problems in my thesis and asked me to get more data. However, in this regard, the person said

(i) I had the data but was not submitting it intentionally.

(ii) I did not work hard enough to get a degree from IIT Bhubaneswar.

This made the DAC, myself and others stunned. In one meeting with the DAC and the Dean of Faculty of Planning at IIT Bhubaneshwar, I was called. The meeting was also recorded. Each of the members got the actual picture about the false information provided by the professor on my thesis and as a result, the other DAC members resigned from the DAC post on the issue of unethical behaviour of the supervisor.

In October 2016, my husband was told that his case was forwarded to the Research Programme Evaluation Committee (RPEC), IIT Bhubaneswar. From there, it was forwarded to the senate and it was decided to cancel the registration of the scholar. My husband was directly intimated by the office order of cancellation of his PhD registration in February 2017, without any prior notice.

Finally, after 10 months or so, the IIT authority asked me to do a semester registration under the accused person, which was not acceptable due to the sexual harassment. harassment. I had shared my ordeal with the National Commission for Women and other committees.

I also forwarded my concern about a full-time government employee (as I got a government job at that time) cannot do registration in any full-time course. As per the norms of the PhD of IIT Bhubaneshwar, if the student gets a job during their PhD tenure, and if they want, they can be allowed a temporary leave for a maximum of 12 months. I had applied for the leave in the month of December.

Also, despite our sincere desire to change the supervisor before the higher authorities, IIT did not take any action. Ultimately, as a measure of punishment to raise objection against the professor, both my husband and I became victims of the Professor and IIT. Without changing my supervisor, IIT cancelled my PhD registration as well, in June 2017. As expected, IIT did not find the person to be guilty.

However, I repeatedly conveyed my message to the committees on the unfair investigation.

The behaviour of the professor to a woman, a couple of bright students and finally to a family harm the society and this land in many ways such as:

1. Our country missed two PhD degrees although the government paid us the necessary stipend to use our brain in research.
2. Such instances are examples of why there have been an increase in the suicide of IITians.

This issue is intimated till date with-
1. To the Prime Minister of India.
2. Ministry of Human Resources (MHRD) through letter and mail.
3. Ministry of Women & Child Development (MoWCD)
4. Chief Minister of Odisha.
5. Chief Minister of West Bengal.
6. National Commission for Women (NCW).
7. National Human Rights Commission (NHRC).
8. Odisha State Women Commission.
9. The Director & Deans of other IITs in this land.
10. Council of Science & Industrial Research (CSIR), Govt. of India.
11. University Grants Commission (UGC), Govt. of India.
12. The Board of Governors, IIT Bhubaneswar.
13. Internal Complaints Committee (ICC), IIT Bhubaneswar
14. Women Grievance and Redressal Committee (WGRC), IIT Bhubaneswar.

All the information obtained till date from IIT Bhubaneswar by a number of petitions through RTI Act, 2005.

My Appeal to IIT Bhubaneswar:

1. The case of sexual harassment must be re-investigated as I am not at all satisfied with the outcome of the ICC. The intention and capability of the ICC to give proper justice were made clear to me at the first meeting with them in which one of the members terrorised me on account of complaining to them.

2. IIT has to give the PhD degree to me and my husband without any hassle by making a neutral panel of referees and judge the thesis accordingly.

3. The person must be removed from any important post like Dean, Head of the School, etc. of an institute like IIT where a number of good students are coming to fulfil their dreams.

4. It needs stringent and exemplary action by IIT Bhubaneswar, which will set an example to other staff to not dare to sexually harass at IIT Bhubaneswar. The Internal Complaints Committee of IIT Bhubaneswar did not follow the principle of natural justice read with the Doctrine of Audi Alterem Partem and with the opportunity of being heard as well as the Doctrine of Legitimate Expectation.

It is my earnest request to all of you not only to help a woman get justice for her and her family against sexual harassment but also unethical practices going on by the administration of an international level institute of our country by spreading the issue nationwide.

Editor’s Note: According to a Times of India report, IIT Bhubaneswar has rejected the allegations based on the ICC findings. IIT Bhubaneswar Director RV Rajakumar said that they had followed appropriate rules and had wasted no time in instituting a probe when the allegation came.

Rajakumar told TOI that the de-registration of the PhDs of the woman and her husband had nothing to do with the allegation. According to him, her husband could not satisfy the research programme evaluation committee (RPEC) with the progress of his research in October 2016.

(Source: YKA)