Today I had the privilege of examining the dissertation of Anna Kravchenko at ESSEC Business School. To my delight, I discovered that she is originally from hashtag#Kazakhstan, having completed her undergraduate studies Karaganda State University before embarking on a journey that has taken her far in academia. Seeing such talent from Kazakhstan flourish on the international stage filled me with pride.
This was my first experience of a French-style PhD defense, and I found it both fascinating and humbling. The structure of the dissertation, the expectations, and the viva format differ from what I have been trained in, but the essence remains the same: to evaluate years of intellectual effort and growth.
Whenever I agree to examine a PhD, I take that responsibility with care. I always read the thesis beforehand, and if I feel the work does not meet the standard for a pass, I decline the invitation. I see no point in making the viva a site of suffering for students.
Too often, I have seen scholars subjected to unnecessarily harsh treatment, failing or being given excessive corrections that leave scars rather than encouragement. For me, the viva should never be a torture chamber. It is the threshold of a scholarly life, a moment of recognition, and it should be guided by rigor, yes, but also by kindness.
This does not mean lowering standards. On the contrary, I believe rigor and kindness must walk hand in hand. Rigor ensures the quality of our scholarship. Kindness reminds us that a PhD is not the final word on a person’s intellectual worth but the beginning of a longer academic journey. No dissertation is perfect, and no candidate is fully formed. But what matters is their potential, their ability to grow, and the community that receives them.
Examining a PhD, For me, is a joyful moment of welcoming a colleague into our community, and remembering that in academia, as in life, kindness is as essential as rigor.