Table of Contents Link to heading

1. Not Passion, But Reality Link to heading

I didn’t start my PhD journey out of pure academic passion—and I certainly didn’t take the traditional path.

After earning my master’s degree, I joined a leading state-owned automotive company in Shanghai, working on autonomous driving algorithms. I wasn’t chasing big money or fast promotions—I just wanted something stable, with no overtime.

But things didn’t go as planned. In my third year, the entire department was shut down.
And it wasn’t just us. Colleagues who jumped to other companies faced similar uncertainties. In today’s auto industry, no matter how good you are, you’re still just one strategic pivot away from being cut.

That’s when it hit me: this path doesn’t lead to a future—it leads to a dead end.
A career where projects can be reset overnight, supply chains collapse without warning, and no amount of effort guarantees security. You’re basically a patching screw in a fragile machine.

Instead of waiting to be pushed out again, I chose to jump tracks on my own terms.
I chose the PhD route—mostly out of a desire for change, and partly, I’ll admit, to escape.

2. Why a PhD Became an Option Link to heading

A PhD wasn’t my dream. It felt more like a default answer after all the other ones started failing.

  • I asked the industry: Can I still outrun its growing instability?
    → No. The problem isn’t the algorithms—it’s the structure.

  • I asked the market: Is there a clearer, more predictable path for growth?
    → Not really. Big tech is a conveyor belt; startups are a gamble.

  • I asked myself: Is there any space where I could at least regain control of my own pace?
    → Education, though rigid, seemed temporarily safe.

At this point, a PhD felt like a kind of delayed hedge.
Not a perfect solution, but maybe a way to buy time—perhaps a stepping stone into academia, or simply a few quieter years to think and recalibrate.

3. A Calculated Gamble Link to heading

At the end of the day, doing a PhD is betting time against an uncertain future.

You’re gambling that four to six years of your life might lead to a more respectable role:
a lecturer, a supervisor, a tenured professor, a research lead.
But the flip side is just as real:
unemployment after graduation, endless postdocs, or getting stuck in the margins of the academic system—only to end up back in the job market.

You’re betting your most productive years on a path where:

  • You don’t control the timeline;
  • You don’t control the outcome;
  • And sometimes, you don’t even own your work.