Your Abstract: What, Why, How, When?

20/10/2021  -  10.30

Dr Benjamin Halligan, Director of the Doctoral College

“And can you email me an Abstract too?” That’s the question you’ll get from your supervisor, towards the end of your time preparing your doctorate – in our case, at the University of Wolverhampton, about six months before you intend to submit the thesis for examination. I would guess that some researchers remain vague about this matter of the Abstract: it seems a mini-summary, a couple of hundred words long, and something to do with form-filling. It isn’t really assessed… it’s not really part of the thesis… it’s so short it can’t begin to capture the scope and richness of your work… and you’ve got more urgent, thesis-related matters to be getting on with when they request is made…

So it’s no surprise then to hear that, in reviewing the written feedback from examiners of Viva Voces that have run over the last year, I’ve been coming across requested changes to Abstracts. Three examiner responses seem typical here. Firstly: the Abstract doesn’t really reflect the actual thesis – it seems to talk about a slightly different variant of the thesis. (Perhaps, in these cases, the Abstract drew too closely on earlier drafts, or annual assessment prose from a previous year). Secondly: the Abstract isn’t at all aligned with the actual thesis – even the title given in the Abstract is different to the eventual title of the submitted thesis. (Here, it may just well be that the changes in the final few months were so wide-ranging that between the Abstract being written and given to the supervisors, and the thesis itself submitted, quite a gap between the two opened up). Thirdly: this Abstract isn’t an Abstract. I want to deal with this response in this blog. But, just before, let me outline the use and journey of the Abstract, to provide some context for the idea of what an Abstract should be.

That request for an Abstract from your supervisor will be at the behest of securing an examination team, in anticipation of the thesis submission. The examiners will need something of an executive summary of the work to come, so that they can discern whether the work speaks to their areas of expertise, in terms of both approach and content. So the Abstract is forwarded by the supervisors as part of an invitation to the examiners. And this may be why, half a year later, examiners can be jarred by a thesis which is somewhat different to that thesis promised by that Abstract. Of course, as I note above, revising the Abstract is part of the standard examination and correction processes around theses, so those necessary changes can be made.

But, beyond all this, once the doctoral degree has been awarded, the Abstract can begin to take on a life of its own. Your thesis then becomes available to the global academic community, and the Abstract is the first port of call for other researchers, scoping existing work and trying to ascertain whether your particular thesis is worth downloading and engaging with, to better their own research. So that Abstract will live on as a possible entry point to your work and findings. (There is a bit of a benefit in this: it means that innumerable other Abstracts are available online, so some desktop research will soon deliver many useful examples for you as you think about writing your own Abstract). Consequently, inaccurate or unwelcoming, or difficult or dense, or vague or light-touch Abstracts might only ultimately damage the reach of your work by dissuading others from engaging in it. Data from open access university archives shows that some theses are downloaded thousands of times every month, by researchers all over the world. GoogleScholar tracks citations too, allowing you to see who is mentioning your work in their publications. The Abstract then is pivotal in terms of the use of your research by others.

What, then, should be in the Abstract? I would suggest it needs to look more to your Research Questions than your Conclusion. I would front-load the Abstract with something of the spirit of your investigation, followed by a briefer summary of findings. In short: what you did, how you did it, and what was discovered. In terms of formulations of words, and thinking about that crucial opening sentence: “This thesis mounts an investigation into…”; “This research centres on the ways in which…”; “This work asks, for the first time, why…”; “This thesis seeks to understand occurrences of…” Thereafter you need to indicate the methodological approach – and this is typically done either with the appropriate terminology, or even citing the work that has directly influenced the thesis. But you may feel it appropriate to be a bit expansive rather than determinist here: “The thesis utilises the body of thought associated with… in order to replicate the experiments first done by…”; “The thesis seeks to advance these current theoretical paradigms through an engagement with the work of…”; “By applying this new body of theory to older ideas of…”

After this, we tend to get something of the story of the work – even a bit of a narrative: the succession of experiments, or case studies, or groups of subjects with whom you’ve engaged. “The thesis first looks to…”; “With that data, the research was able to test these results in a new field by then turning to…”; “Since the archives are so extensive, the research focussed in on figures who…” Note here the tendency to a past tense. The Abstract is written so as to describe the work as it exists, in a completed form. This is quite different to the anticipatory tenses in the thesis itself – particularly the Introduction – which are all about how the research “will”, “will seek to”, “will then turn to”, and so on. And, finally, I would boldly state your Conclusion: “With these findings, the research proves that…”, “This new data reveals that the disciplinary field has been mistaken in previously thinking that…”, “The thesis has therefore assembled a new and effective method of…” This, after all, signals a foundational attribute of the thesis: the discovery of new knowledge. But remember: this Abstract is going to be read by people who aren’t necessarily familiar with your disciplinary field and its language and terms, so your Abstract needs to be understandable to those readers too.

Once you’ve got a draft of the Abstract, read it aloud. Does it flow? Does it make sense? (Is it within word count?) Are there any ambiguities? Have others look at it too. Do they understand what it’s trying to communicate? Are you happy with it?

As you can see, the Abstract isn’t really just another thesis-related chore. It’s the invitation to the examiners, and to generations of potential readers to come, beyond that. In a sense it’s the very packaging of your doctoral work once it’s complete. So do give yourself the time to think, draft, test with others, redraft, talk through with your supervisor, redraft… and achieve confidence that, as you prepare to submit, your Abstract will be serving you and your research well for the many interested parties who may be reading that Abstract in the years to come.