History Lab Plus has been undergoing some big changes over the last year.

We are now recruiting a new committee and launching a survey to shape the future of History Lab Plus: https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/7ZHNB7J

Watch this space (and @historylabplus) for updates and forthcoming events.


Forthcoming events

I am writing this post as the new Chair of History Lab Plus – and want to say a big thank you to Kelly Spring the outgoing Chair for all her hard work and to the rest of the Committee.  This short post is to update you about HL+ and some forthcoming events.

We continue to work closely with the Royal Historical Society and history UK, and I have been busy attending meetings and representing History Lab Plus at events over the past few weeks. The Academic Jobs Boot Camp held in London on 20th May was a big success – the participants found the experience very useful and said they would recommend it to their friends.

There are some big events coming up over the next few months as well, run either by History Lab Plus or partner organisations, which you might be interested in:-

‘Ask the Experts’ will be held in Durham on 22nd June 2017 – aimed at postgraduate and early career researchers is aims to answer your questions about pursuing a career as a historian in academia. Senior historians will share their experiences and advice. The event is free. Register by emailing rachel.johnson2@durham.ac.uk by 7th June.

Ask the Experts flyer 2017

‘New to Teaching’ is a free 1 day workshop to be held at the institute of Historical Research on Tuesday 12th September. Participants will be engaged in sessions on curriculum design and development, teaching small groups, teaching digital history, defining teaching excellence, and apply for jobs. Register via https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/new-to-teaching-event-for-historians-tickets-33808259414

We will also be launching an exciting new event later this year – the public history and diversity workshop will be held in Leeds on 27 October – more information to follow

If you are interested in public history, then you might also be interested in the Royal Historical Society’s Public History Prize http://royalhistsoc.org/prizes/public-history-prize/


Finally, we will also be looking to appoint some new committee members over the coming months as well, so look out for further announcements.

IHR Wohl Library Exhibition Competition

IHR Wohl Library Exhibition competition

IHR Display Case

Following the IHR refurbishment, the Wohl Library now benefits from a number of bespoke display and exhibition cases which will be used to highlight the breadth of the collections and the range of work undertaken at the Institute.

Recognising the potential importance of exhibitions and public engagement for Early Career Researchers (ECRs), the library team has announced an annual competition for History Lab Plus members, offering the winner the opportunity to curate an exhibition within the IHR. Working with the library team, you will gain experience in exhibition curation, design and conservation, as well as showcasing your subject. It offers the opportunity for ECRs to display their research in new and innovative ways to the diverse range of historians who visit the IHR. No prior exhibition experience is required, and you will work alongside IHR library staff in producing the exhibition.

The winning exhibition will make creative use of the IHR’s holdings and explore a historical topic, theme or area of research in an engaging and scholarly way. It will also be aware of the range of audience that the IHR services, which includes professional historians but also the general public. There are five cases available, suggesting an exhibition list of 20-25 items. The exhibition can also include facsimiles of materials held elsewhere, and can include display boards within the cases (the IHR library will arrange the printing of these). The winning exhibition can be complemented by an online version of the exhibition hosted on the IHR website, and should also have outreach or launch event as part of the exhibition programme (for example a workshop, lecture or curator’s tour).

To enter, send your exhibition title, 250-word outline explaining what your exhibition will be about and what might be in it, and the text of a sample label (100 words max) to the IHR Librarian, matthew.shaw@sas.ac.uk. Please include your ideas for the launch or outreach event and a suggested launch date. The exhibition will run four approximately three months.

Entries due 30 September (deadline has been extended).

A range of guidance on best practice for label and exhibition text writing can be found here:








Further reading:


Academic Job Boot Camp – 14 May

History UK, History Lab Plus and the Institute of Historical Research

Academic Job Boot Camp

Institute of Historical Research, Senate House London

14 May 2016: 13.15-17.00


Are you starting to think about applying for your first lectureship in history? Submitting applications and never hearing back? The Academic Job Boot Camp is a free half-day event for early career historians sponsored by History UK, History Lab Plus and the Institute of Historical Research. It will help you to structure your academic CV, hone your cover letter, rehearse your job presentation and undergo a mock interview, as well as demystifying some of the processes around academic recruitment. The experience, feedback and advice you receive at the event is designed to improve your chances the next time you apply for an academic job.

How will the boot camp work? Participants will take part in a simulation of all stages of the job application process up to and including being interviewed as a shortlisted candidate. Twenty-five applicants will be invited to be interviewed at a half-day boot camp on 14 May 2016 at the Institute of Historical Research in London. There they will be interviewed by pairs of experienced academics drawn from a dozen universities nationwide. They will also deliver job presentations to other early career historians. All participants will receive feedback on their interview and presentation and will have the opportunity to observe how others fare. The event will end with a roundtable on how to make your job application succeed, after which there will be drinks, a free dinner and networking opportunities at a nearby pub and restaurant.

Itinerary (all locations at Institute of Historical Research):

13:15-13:30 Welcome and introductions (Wolfson II)

13:30-16:00 Mock Interviews (30 minutes each incl. feedback, conducted by pairs of academics: N304, N202, N204, N203, N102)

13:30-16:00 Job presentations (10 minutes each in front of other early career historians who provide written feedback: Wolfson II and Pollard Seminar Room N301)

16:00-17:00 Roundtable on Myths and Truths about Applying and Interviewing for Academic Jobs (Wolfson II)

17.00-19.30 Pub then dinner at a nearby restaurant

This event is free and sponsored by History UK, History Lab Plus and the Institute of Historical Research. All early career historians are encouraged to apply, with preference being given to those who have completed their PhDs.

To participate, you will need to apply for an imaginary lectureship in a real history programme. Please read the job requirements of the Imaginary Lectureship in History at http://historyuktestone.blogs.lincoln.ac.uk/profession/ and the further particulars (http://historyuktestone.blogs.lincoln.ac.uk/files/2016/04/Imaginary-Lectureship-in-History-Further-Particulars.pdf), then submit a letter of application and CV to marcus.collins@lboro.ac.uk. The deadline is midnight on Sunday 1 May and applicants will be contacted by Tuesday 3 May.

Publishing Your Research – History Lab Plus at the Social History Society

History Lab Plus is pleased to be sponsoring a lunchtime session at the Social History Society 40th Anniversary Conference in Lancaster this week. We are glad to have Emma Brennan (Manchester University Press) and Emily Russell (Palgrave) talking to us about publishing and we anticipate lots of questions!

You can find us on the programme for Monday 21st March (Day One), 1.15-2pm in CCA016.

Our incoming co-chair Kelly Spring will also be there to answer any questions you have about joining History Lab Plus and what we do. Do come and say hello!

Early-Career Life in 2015 – Christopher Phillips

Dr Christopher Phillips is currently a Visiting Lecturer at Leeds Trinity University, having been awarded his PhD in History by the University of Leeds in April 2015. He is in the process of preparing his thesis for publication under the title Managing Armageddon: Transportation on the Western Front, 1914-1918, and is pursuing funding opportunities for a new research project to investigate the development of railway towns in England between 1870 and 1970. Here he reflects on 2015, his first post-PhD, and the uncertainty of 2016. You can follow him on Twitter @DoctorCPhillips

The genesis of this blog was an, on reflection, somewhat bitter comment posted on Twitter in response to the History Lab Plus’ call for contributions on life as an early career researcher. It focused on the negatives which have largely dominated my professional life over the second half of 2015, and which ultimately overshadowed my experience of the year as a whole. Having been offered the chance to elaborate on the initial 140 character response, however, I realised that my knee-jerk reaction did not adequately reflect the range of experiences which I faced over the course of the year. What follows is not an attempt to right any of the perceived ‘wrongs’ of academia, or an attempt to comprehend why I find myself at the start of 2016 with only one task – the supervision of five dissertation students to completion in May – guaranteed to pay me an income for the foreseeable future. What it is, I hope, is an attempt to document what may (or may not) be a transitory period from PhD student to academic without the usual happy ending that other such discussions that I have read tend to conclude with.

2015 actually began rather well for me. I received broadly positive, constructive feedback on the full draft of my thesis which I’d submitted to my supervisors before Christmas, and news of the acceptance of a journal article (subject to a few wrangles over the title) within the first week of January. By the end of the month, a book review had also been accepted for publication in a highly respected journal in the field, and all 100,000 words of my thesis had been soft-bound and sent off to my examiners. In March I delivered a really well received seminar paper at my undergraduate university on a chapter of my thesis, was invited to speak at a public event at Leeds Industrial Museum in May, and despatched the final proofs for an article which had been finished almost two years before. In early April, two hours of viva examination resulted in the award of a PhD (subject to correcting a few spelling mistakes), and encouragement from both examiners to publish. In the same week as the Graduate Board confirmed my doctorate, I was invited to interview for a three-year research post.

And then the handbrake was applied. The interview did not lead to anything. Nor did any of the other thirty plus applications I submitted for various roles during the academic year 2014-15. I applied for permanent lectureships, three- and five-year research fellowships, teaching fellowships ranging from three months to two years, and a number of non-academic posts. I received no invitations to interview, and in many cases no response whatsoever. In no cases did I receive any feedback on my application, and on one specific occasion I remember the rejection email stating – in bold type no less – that no feedback would be given to ‘unsuccessful applicants’. I received only a handful of rejection emails, the majority of which were not even personalised but began ‘Dear applicant’. Some, of course, hurt more than others. The one for a permanent lectureship at a very prestigious institution which doubtless received a shedload of applicants was unsurprising. The one for a two-year fellowship where I’d done my PhD was utterly humiliating. Aside from not being deemed worthy of addressing by name, the rest of the content of these emails was equally discouraging, impersonal, and demotivating. There was nothing constructive upon which I could improve for future applications. Friends and former colleagues, including an incredibly supportive supervisor, could offer no further suggestions to improve my cover letters. Was my intended research deemed unimaginative and uninspiring? Was the relatively narrow band of teaching experience I gained during my thesis (not for the want of trying to gain more) what was holding me back? Was it the lack of a book contract that meant my applications were being consigned to the ‘no’ pile? I have no idea.

I have tried to rectify all of these, but without success. After four months of no contact whatsoever, my first choice of publisher for my ‘book of the thesis’ finally got in touch to essentially say ‘you should have proposed an entirely different book’. A second never responded to the proposal at all. I am currently awaiting the result of the latest attempt. Throughout the summer I emailed my CV to various Heads of Department to enquire about the availability of sessional teaching, without success (although, to my eternal gratitude, every single department I contacted in this matter responded quickly). The last attempt to pursue a postdoctoral fellowship with the research proposal I had developed during the final year of my PhD foundered when the academic I had contacted at a potential host simply stopped responding to my emails two weeks before the deadline.

In the middle of September, I got a job. Two weeks before the start of term I was offered the chance to teach a survey course on British History from the Roman Conquest to the Industrial Revolution, and to supervise a number of dissertations. Halfway through the term, I took over the delivery of another module – this time on US civil rights. I did not get this work through any application process, but as a result of being in the right place at the right time, and thanks to the recommendation of a former colleague who had originally been approached to do the job. Although the majority of that contract is now finished, I have been put on a database of potential teachers for another university (again at the recommendation of a former colleague) which may lead to some more teaching experience in the upcoming semester to add to my CV. I’ve also created a new potential research project which I have received encouraging feedback on prior to submission for funding through the Leverhulme Trust. Whether any of this work will lead to anything or not who knows. I am under no illusions as to the competitiveness of such schemes, but perhaps if unsuccessful on that avenue it will intrigue someone on a hiring committee for a job yet to be advertised for next year. Perhaps the extra teaching I have undertaken this term outside my area of expertise will shift me from one pile of applications to the other. Perhaps a publisher will take a chance on my thesis and offer me the chance to write the book, and that will be enough evidence to convince someone, somewhere, to offer me an interview.

In the meantime, I keep searching jobs.ac.uk and H-Net, and working on preparations for a two-day conference I am part of the organising committee for. The book is on the back burner, not least because the necessary research trips to London are too expensive, and the new research project is still in the process of conducting literature searches and scanning through what secondary material I can lay my hands on. What state either project will be in come 1 January 2017 is impossible to say right now.


Early-Career Life in 2015: Cath Feely

Our co-chair Cath Feely shares her reflection, such as it is, on 2015. You can read Cath’s post on 2014 here. This will most likely be the last time she does this because she’s all reflected out.

I’ll be honest. I didn’t really want to write this post. There are too many things that I should be doing right now, all vying for my attention and making me anxious: marking, module handbooks, planning for next semester, sorting out the admin backlog for History Lab Plus that has been neglected over a very busy semester, and so on.

But it was more than that. It was that, before I actually sat down to write, I couldn’t think of anything that I’d really achieved in 2015, my second year in a permanent lectureship. I didn’t have a story to tell about it. Nothing momentous happened. It was neither a particularly good or bad year for me. It just was.

When I started to write, however, lots of things came to mind. But I realised that what had made me most proud in 2015 weren’t ‘my’ successes. I was there, sure; I might deserve some of the credit. But they are not things that are easily itemised in a review of the year: dissertations that absolutely blew my socks off (you know who you are!), conversations with colleagues, touching and personal messages from graduating students and the like. They were all, all of them, the result of a group effort. And I realise now just how grateful and proud I am to be part of that group.

So I did do good stuff in 2015. But I did not do it alone. And the credit for any success is shared with my colleagues and our students.

That’s not to say that I don’t have personal goals for 2016, ‘the year of the book’. Now that I have done some leg work in setting up new modules, I want to write more regularly. There are plans – realistic ones, I think, too – afoot.

But I want to step back from some things too. Mostly, I want to step back from getting angry. There is a place for anger but, back in early September when the so-called ‘early career debate’ was raging on Twitter, I took some time out and drank a milkshake in a Derby café and, stupidly, fought back tears. I had taken so much of what was being said about the betrayal of early career historians by people with permanent jobs far too personally and it had tired me out. I wondered whether anyone at all cared about what we had been doing with History Lab Plus. I thought about how much, personally, I was giving and whether it was doing any good. A day or two later, I received an email from someone telling me how much difference one of our events had made to her. And that was my answer. But I also realised that it was possible to care about these issues without feeling responsible for them. I can help, yes, but I am not alone in this endeavour. I’d like to thank another anonymous scholar who, in a hotel bar, told me that it was not up to me to fix academia single-handedly. This was said with the greatest respect and I have taken it to heart, in a good way.

So there’s no advice in this post. No story. Except that it’s okay to have an okay year.

Early-Career Life 2015: George Campbell Gosling

A year ago, we published a series of reflections from early-career historians at various stages of their post-PhD lives. You can read them here. George Campbell Gosling kicked us off last year and he’s kindly allowed us to cross-post his account of 2015, one in which he felt his ‘split academic personality came of age’. Over the next few weeks, we hope to add to these reflections not just with updates from those who wrote last year, but with new voices.  If you’d like to contribute, please tweet @cathfeely or email me at c.feely[at]derby.ac.uk. Over to George (again!):

Looking back on 2015, it’s been a mix of bedding in and big changes. But the changes haven’t always been the ones I might have expected.

At the end of the year, my work life looks in some ways very similar to it did at the beginning. I’m still in the same department, even if I’ve moved up the corridor into a shared office. I’m still working on the same book, now putting the finishing pre-publication touches to the manuscript that was still coming together a year ago. Blogging about history and the teaching of it is still one of my favourite pastimes, even though I’ve started on a new research project and I’m not doing any teaching.

Yet this academic year feels very different from the last, and I guess that’s inevitable. For one thing, the second year in any institution – even if in a different position – is less stressful. You know the people and the place, the oddities and the opportunities. It’s why my only real regret from my 4+ years now of post-PhD academic life is all the moving around and uncertainty. Without it I wouldn’t have met some wonderful people and taken on some interesting and unexpected jobs, but I’d also have fewer grey hairs.

Swapping full-time teaching for full-time research is also bound to be different. Worries about how much of a student’s grammar to correct replaced with trying (and failing) to remember receipts while on archive visits around the country. The constant stimulation of mastering new topics each week with the chance to immerse myself in one (set of) thing(s). Piles of marking are out and taking minutes of team meetings is in.

But I also feel very differently about myself as an academic. A year ago I was enjoying being a jobbing history teacher. Now I feel like an historian. My appointment as a postdoctoral research fellow and the warm (yet helpfully constructive) backing of anonymous peer reviewers for publishing my first book – they both feel like more of a vindication than passing my viva. I earned the right to call myself Dr then, now I feel like I have the opportunity to put that into practice.

Put it another way – I feel like an expert now. Of course, that old friend Imposter Syndrome makes regular appearances, but through the ups and downs I do feel more confident professionally. It’s been a decade since my nan asked me why there was no NHS when she was a child. And I’ve spent the years in between thinking about the answer – even while distracted by the job hunt and trying to repeatedly refashion everything I had to say on the topic, in keeping with the latest imagined future employment opportunity. By now I know this stuff. I am an expert.

I also think I’m seen more as an expert, but often not for my research. An odd split has emerged. I feel like an expert for what I’ve been given a chance now to do full-time: researching and writing history. But I also think I appear and am seen as an expert for something else: my blogging.

I sometimes blog about my research. When I do the audience is usually many of the same people who would read a fuller academic publication, especially if I used the blog to let them know about it. Sometimes that’s the audience I want to reach and that’s fine. But the audience this past year for my blogging about teaching and studying history has  been far, far larger.

This kicked off the year before with my History Essay Checklist. I was gobsmacked by the response to what I assumed was the sort of common sense advice given by history tutors (as well as those across the humanities and beyond) to university students struggling with essay writing. It seems not. I’ve had hits again with advice on writing source commentaries, how to read for essays and why, when and how to reference in essays amongst others.

None of this is based on a greater knowledge or understanding than most history tutors, but the way it’s presented seems to be useful. This is probably because I’m useless at learning by intuition or imitation. The fact I need to analyse and learn thoroughly myself means I’m well-equipped perhaps to relay this to others. My brain works differently from most and I’ve turned that to my advantage.

By the end of 2015, over one-third of universities in the UK have now directed people to my blog from their institutional websites. The traffic from my own Warwick Uni is rivalled by Huddersfield and both Leeds and Leeds Beckett, outdone by Hertfordshire and Kent and, out in front, Victoria University of Wellington in New Zealand. When I meet people for the first time in my academic life, it’s by far the most common thing they know about me. For most people who come across me, my expertise lies in blogging study skills advice to university students.

There have been a lot of changes in 2015 and there’s been lots of bedding in. But I think I’ll look back on this, above all else, as the year my split academic personality came of age.

You can read George’s very popular blog here.

The Danger of Nostalgia: Historicising the Early-Career Debate by William Whyte

In a rather heated moment during the recent early career ‘twitterstorm’, History Lab Plus offered to host any responses to Matthew Lyons’ original piece that were constructive and sought to move the debate on. We were pleased, as historians, to see that William Whyte, a historian of universities, answered calls for a historical perspective on the debate. His response is below. We continue to be open to any constructive responses from all. E-mail us at historylabplus@gmail.com to contribute.

Historians need to be careful when they extrapolate from their own experience. History may be a broad and catholic discipline, but at its heart is surely a basic attempt to historicize: to relate past and present; to situate individual experience within broader, historical categories and trends.

In his article for History Today, Matthew Lyons raises an important issue, articulating some complaints of the early career researchers he has encountered, and (though he does not acknowledge it) also echoing many other voices within universities who are similarly concerned about the conditions in which temporary staff of all sorts currently have to work.
But in order to make his argument, he falls back on a fundamentally presentist, ahistorical – indeed anti-historical – peddling of myths. Like so many people writing about universities, he wholly ignores history and instead invents an idealized past – a past, which of course, never existed.

He’s far from alone in this. ‘Nostalgia is a big thing in academia’, observed Diana Warwick, head of the Committee of Vice Chancellors and Principals in 1996; ‘everything is worse today’. And it’s true that even those who ought to know better are prey to the myth of the golden age – indeed, when the London Review of Books turned its attention to life within Britain’s universities in December 2011, it found a variety of laments and a range of dates identified as better than now, from Keith Thomas’ celebration of the mid-1950s as a ‘golden age of academic freedom’, to Rachel Malik’s description of the mid-1990s as a ‘wonderful’ time to work in academia. In the last ten years or so, a variety of different writers have favourably compared every post-war decade with the experience of life in the twenty-first century university.

If the past is always golden, the present is always dark. Hence the language of decline, of betrayal, and crisis. In his lecture to the Australian Historical Association on 7 July, Peter Mandler challenged the notion of a broader ‘crisis’ in the humanities, pointing out that ‘It is hard to take too seriously talk of a crisis in Britain when even by the narrowest definition of the humanities the absolute number of humanities students has increased fivefold since 1967, and by the broader definition almost 10-fold’. One might do the same for Matthew Lyons’s notion of a ‘great betrayal’ of early career researchers now.

Of course, for all those individuals trapped in nine-month contracts (or worse); for those who have a PhD but no job – and seemingly little likelihood of getting one, this will seem like a crisis. As Harold Wilson is said to have observed, for the individual unemployment is 100 per cent. If anyone was ever lured into postgraduate work by the promise that they would find it easy to become a tenured member of a university, then they are quite right to feel betrayed. We mustn’t, too, make the equivalent mistake of arguing that everything is fine now, and that there is nothing to complain about. That is isn’t true, either. The work of History Lab Plus illustrates just how much more universities ought to be doing for their temporary staff.

Nonetheless, it is worth challenging the notion that there was time in which post-graduate funding was easy to obtain and permanent jobs were just there for the taking. The Robbins Report of 1963 noted that each year only 300 state-funded scholarships were available for the arts, humanities, and social sciences in the whole of the UK. In the 1980s, there were only 200 funded places for PhDs in sociology and just a few more for history.
Nor were jobs easy to obtain. Far from being, in Matthew Lyons’s words, ‘a generation which benefited from free education to degree level and generous support into postgraduate study’, the most senior staff at most universities today were amongst the very few people who managed to gain employment in the far darker days of the 1980s. Public expenditure cuts after 1981 led to the loss of about 5,600 academic jobs and creation of very few new posts. Even the Thatcher government realized that this was creating a demographic crisis in which a generation of postgraduate students would be lost forever, and in 1983 the ‘New blood scheme’ was created to hire some of the very best. It is an index of just how little this benefitted the humanities that in its three years of operation, only 66 posts were created for the arts and 78 for the social sciences. An over-privileged generation, this was not.

In that sense, our current problems are not the product of cuts, or decline, much less betrayal. They are rather the consequence of success. The number of universities, university teachers and researchers, and the number of postgraduate students has simply grown and grown. Moreover, in recent years, a rise in university income, driven by tuition fees and by increasing research funding, has enabled institutions to employ a growing – not a declining – proportion of permanent staff. By 2000, one survey estimated that half of all academics were on temporary contracts; in 2010, HEFCE produced figures suggesting that nearly 90 per cent were now in permanent employment. Moreover, about half of these people would previously have held at least one temporary job.

It is this remarkable growth that causes us so many dilemmas. Last year no fewer than 539,000 people were enrolled as postgraduate students, compared to 135,000 in 1994 and around 10,000 thirty years before that. It is quite clear that, even were universities to continue to expand, there is no way in which all of these people can expect be employed as full-time, tenured academics. It would be quite wrong for anyone to promise any one of these people that their path to a university job would be smooth or easy.

But therein lies our difficulty. Twenty or thirty years ago, most of these people would not have been able to undertake postgraduate research. Many of the institutions they attend had no history department and no tradition of taking research students at all. If the problem is the overproduction of PhDs, then which are the institutions who should be stopped from training doctoral students? Who are the individuals who should be prevented from starting research? Or do we just have to accept that there is a structural imbalance and that most doctoral students will not go on academic work?

It is a valid debate, but not an easy one. And it’s not one that will be helped by bad history or accusations of bad faith.