The Cost of a PhD in Less Concrete Financial Terms

The Cost of a PhD in Less Concrete Financial Terms

The Cost of a PhD in Less Concrete Financial Terms | brokeGIRLrich

You might ask, what does it cost to get a PhD?

And to answer this question, you might find a school you like, look up the tuition cost, multiply it by 4 (or 5 or 6 or 7 or…. sometimes the number of years a PhD may take can be unclear) and go, ah, a PhD will cost me $80k in tuition.

Tuition is only one of the number to consider. And it’s probably the only one with a really clear calculation.

And even that’s not clear.

Most people are funded when they get a PhD. Or they have a job reimbursing some, if not all, of their tuition.

Some lunatics, like me, self-fund the thing. And even then, the initial estimate on what it will cost may well not be true because of additional scholarships, grants or funding you find along the way.

It’s also easy to forget to consider some of the other costs.

The biggest is the opportunity cost related to regular work.

Now, maybe if your job is funding your PhD and you’re doing it part time, this doesn’t apply – at least not in a strictly financial sense, because you are still trading a large chunk of your time to do one thing rather than relax, spend time with people you love, have fun, etc. All the lovely things that make life nice.

But, we are focusing more on the numbers side of thing in this post, so let’s call opportunity cost in this case lost wages.

Maybe you are a recent grad, in which case your opportunity cost is probably 4-7 years of entry level wages (that may increase a bit annually) and, of course, this also varies drastically across different industries. What I made in year one out of school was not the same that my friends with business and STEM degrees were making, was not the same that someone with an education degree was making, but you probably have a general idea of the starting wages in your field.

Or maybe you, like me, found a pocket of time later in life where this mad undertaking could work. Friends, the opportunity cause now is extra unpleasant to calculate several years of lost wages nearing peak income time.

For instance, had I not gone after this degree, there is a job I would’ve applied for with a $104k a year salary that I, maybe naively, believe I was a strong contender for. I can’t say I would’ve gotten it for sure, but if I did, at this point I’m looking at around $200k in lost wages and potential just over $400k by the time I graduate. At any rate, I was averaging between $60-90k in income prior to returning to school, so in a four-year period, that’s $240-$360 in lost wages – realistically, probably some number in the middle.

However, this number isn’t completely correct either because I do still work. I work part time over here and once in a blue moon I fly home to work a larger scale event as a stage manager.

I still managed to make close to $60k my first year of grad school and $30k during the second year. So my lost income isn’t quite as bad as I’d feared – though the instability of my income in my current life with the accompanying high tuition expenses is a special kind of stressful.

You’re also a little at the mercy of the cost of living in the place you study. I had been living with my dad during the pandemic, and likely would’ve moved out by now, but probably not to a place as expensive as London.

My monthly rent and utility bills are between $1500-1800 a month, which doesn’t include food, transportation or entertainment.

There are cheaper ways I could be living, but there are quality of life trade-offs. Some of which a younger me could’ve made without batting an eye, but a nearly 40-something me is just not doing. Like living with 8 other people in a flat.

There’s also a surprising number of ‘little’ expenses that can add up. For instance, books. Now, the school has a library, that’s a bit meh, but it’s ok, and I have access to the British Library, which is excellent, but each trip to the British Library costs me about $18 in transit costs. To get to the library is around $7.

Sometimes, ordering a used book is actually less than that, especially for some of the older, cornerstone books for some of the theories I’m studying.

And there’s conferences. Some schools are good about funding grad students to send them to conferences (and I will admit my school has been really good about this), but I’ve heard horror stories from other grad students. And we’re all expected to go.

In my case, I was to watch a bunch of immersive theatre. (The horror, I know). And it’s definitely my favorite part of my studies, but it’s also the most expensive out of pocket by far. I’d estimate I’ probably spend around £300 on theatre tickets that are related to my studies a year.

Then there are variable things, maybe you cut back on them if you have to but there is a really valid argument for mental health and happiness to include them.

My school is far from home. Flights are expensive. I’m lucky and often have credit card points, but when I don’t a $500 ticket is a steal and a $1000 to get home is not surprising.

Spending money to visit some sights in the place you’ve moved to. Grabbing some takeout. Seeing a film or going to a board game café.

Cause financial costs aside, the mental health crisis in doctoral students is bonkers and struggling to find non-destructive ways to let off some steam, which, most unfortunately, usually requires spending a little bit of money, only adds to this.

Even if you scale back some of those costs and invite friends over for dinner and buy a board game you all like to play – still costs some money. Sigh, finances of PhD students and mental health is probably a post for another day.

Just a few extra things to think about if you’re considering pursuing a graduate degree.

Did you go to grad school? Was it worth it? Do you use your degree(s) in your career?

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