In the introduction, I mentioned that this blog serves as a replacement for a completed but ultimately unaccepted PhD dissertation and any subsequent academic publications. The reason for this rejection lies in what I describe as the research problem, though not in the conventional sense.
In academic circles, a “research problem” is typically understood as a synonym for a thesis statement—a central question or argument guiding the study. However, I use the term differently.
My research problem was twofold: one part practical, the other philosophical.
The Practical Challenge: A Lack of Materials
One of the significant hurdles in my research was the scarcity of documented materials detailing Halifax’s sewerage system installation. Since Halifax is one of Canada’s oldest cities, one might assume that records would be plentiful, but this was not the case. This lack of documentation made constructing a complete historical narrative of the city’s sanitation infrastructure difficult.
The Philosophical Challenge: What to Do About It?
Academically speaking, there were several ways I could have handled this issue:
- Investigating why the records were missing—a study that could have revealed political, bureaucratic, or cultural reasons for the gaps.
- Adjusting my research question to accommodate the lack of materials, shifting my focus to oral histories, indirect evidence, or alternative methodologies.
These approaches reflect an a posteriori way of thinking—one that adapts to the available materials and maintains the flexibility necessary for both scholarship and the natural world.
Unfortunately, my doctoral committee operated under a strictly a priori mindset.
The Consequences of Rigid Thinking
Rather than working with the evidence available, my committee insisted that I was simply not working hard enough. I was repeatedly criticized for my supposed lack of focus, my research abilities were questioned, and the legitimacy of my study was undermined.
At times, I even considered reframing my dissertation as a work of creative writing—constructing plausible narratives based on reasonable assumptions.
For example, if multiple individuals had similar documented experiences with their sewerage systems, wasn’t it logical to infer a broader pattern? The absence of abundant archival materials did not mean my research lacked value or rigor.
But mediation was not an option. My committee remained unwilling to adapt or reconsider their position.
By the time I realized how little autonomy I had in shaping my own research, it was too late.
Ironically, I found that I had enjoyed more intellectual freedom in grade school than in graduate school.
