My First-Year DPhil Presentation at Oxford

Claiming My Corner of the Social Sciences

– Kamakshi (@kam.at.oxford)

Hilary Term arrived with one of its rites of passage (at least for me): the mandatory first-year DPhil presentation. In my department, this is not just a casual progress update— it’s a moment where you publicly stake a claim on your research theme, your questions (albeit preliminary), and, in many ways, your academic identity in your cohort.

The days leading up to mine were nerve-wracking, to say the least. My supervisor and I went back and forth repeatedly over what exactly I wanted to define and defend in my themes. What was I really arguing? What conceptual ground was I claiming? Every time I thought I had clarity, a new piece of literature crept in (Zhang et al. are EVERYWHERE!). I spent most of the weekend in a spiral of rewriting slides, rearranging sections, and second-guessing my framing, knowing I had to present on Monday (amplified blues).

But somewhere between the fourth and fifth round of edits, I found a starting point that felt honest.

People often debate the parallels between STEM and the Social Sciences— what is more “rigorous”, what is more “useful”, what is more “impactful.” What people rarely talk about, though, are the discrepancies within the social sciences themselves. I am part of a DPhil cohort where much of the research is rooted in international relations, political science, history, political economy, or conflict studies. These are considered urgent, policy-facing, and visibly “serious” topics.

And then there’s me.

I work on digital studies, food and gender. I am also the only one focusing specifically on India, and more broadly South Asia. In rooms where conversations revolve around geopolitics and security, researching digital cultures, femininity, and online labour can sometimes feel like an outlier pursuit. I often find myself internally preparing a defense (even when it is not asked for?): Why does this matter? Why is this worth academic attention, time, and institutional resources?

Standing in that room presenting my work, I felt something shift. The questions I received weren’t dismissive but curious and engaged. The feedback wasn’t skeptical but encouraging and constructive. And perhaps the most surreal moment of all: my DPhil Director personally coming up to me afterward, pleasantly surprised, asking how I came up with such an incredibly interesting topic.

It is not every day that your research feels seen, and in turn, you do too. I, for one, am someone who blossoms under academic praise, and while I am learning to decentre it, it does not hurt to be complimented!

Walking out of that room, I realised something important: the value of a project is not determined by how closely it resembles dominant trends. Sometimes, its worth lies precisely in the fact that it asks different questions.

All in all, I received generous comments, thoughtful critiques, and a renewed sense of confidence. If this presentation was a glimpse into the next few years of my PhD journey, I’m excited— anxious, yes— but extremely excited to continue.