The main purpose of a research proposal is to show that the problem you propose to investigate

is significant enough to warrant the investigation, the method you plan to use is suitable and
feasible, and the results are likely to prove fruitful and will make an original contribution. In
short, what you are answering is 'will it work?'

The level of sophistication or amount of detail included in your proposal will depend on the stage
you are at with your PhD and the requirements of your department and University.

 In initial stages, the document you need to write will probably be three to five pages long.
It will give a general idea of what you are proposing to do but it isn't a binding contract.
Often it serves as a starting point for discussions with your supervisor to firm up the
topic, methodology and mechanics of your research.

 Some of you will be required to write a proposal at the time of confirming your
candidature (usually at the end of the first year). In some instances, this is a document of
four to five pages and may be viewed as a mere formality. In other cases a much more
substantial document of 30 - 40 pages is expected. Therefore it is essential for you to
check the requirements with your department.

Regardless of the above distinctions you should never see writing a proposal as a worthless
chore. Indeed, if it isn't formally required, it is a very good idea to write one anyway. You can
use it to your advantage. It always forces you to think about your topic, to see the scope of your
research, and to review the suitability of your methodology. Having something in writing also
gives an opportunity to your supervisor to judge the feasibility of the project (whether it is
possible to finish in time, costs, the equipment needed and other practicalities, time needed for
supervision), to assess its likelihood of success, and its ability to meet the academic standard
required of a PhD thesis.

While there are no hard and fast rules governing the structure of a proposal, a typical one would
include: aims and objectives, significance, review of previous research in the area showing
the need for conducting the proposed research, proposed methods, expected outcomes and their
importance. In experimentally based research it often includes detailed requirements for
equipment, materials, field trips, technical assistance and an estimation of the costs. It could also
include an approximate time by which each stage is to be completed.

It may sound pretentious to say that universities are places where knowledge is created, but that
really is the essence of the university: to create and disseminate better understandings of the
world around us. Professors don’t get paid huge bags of money for the books they write, and get
paid not at all for journal articles. We write to share the stuff we’ve learned through our research,
with the idea that a better understanding is better than ignorance. Some believe otherwise, such
as Globe columnist Jeffrey Simpson, who contrasts teaching versus research as a matter of
serving public versus private interests. The funny thing is that Mr. Simpson almost realizes this
distinction is a false one: “The young professor, like the doctors, nurses, judges and lawyers, are
providers of a ‘public’ service – in this case, imparting knowledge and encouraging critical and
creative thinking.”
Where does this knowledge come from? Magic? Do only dead professors, such as Einstein,
count? Yes, there are private researchers in some corners of the knowledge-creating enterprise,
but their focus is on what’s necessary for their employer, such as drug companies, and will often
not share what they learn. Professors are bound by incentives and by ethics to share what they’ve
learned as broadly as possible, which ultimately is for the public good.

Consider the businesses that tend to grow around research universities – not just bars and pizza
joints but often software companies, biotech companies and other knowledge-based businesses.
Coincidence? I don’t think so.

Critics might concede that universities do create high-tech knowledge, but that the rest of the
disciplines should be focused on teaching. My own area of research within political science has
been on how countries control their militaries when engaged in distant multinational operations.
Specifically, I’ve been studying NATO’s war in Afghanistan, and trying to understand Canada’s
decisions (as well as those of the other countries involved). Am I doing this research to
maximize my private interests? Aside from some frequent flier miles, no. My concern is how
democracies control their militaries without getting in the way of successfully running
operations.

If publicly supported university professors were not studying such issues, who would? Would
defence contractors and their associations be willing to publish results critical of the
government? The old phrase is that war is too important to be left to the generals. Well, research
of the military is too important to be left to the private sector.

People often make the classic mistake of thinking that teaching and research are two entirely
separate endeavours. Our research informs our teaching (and vice versa). Even in the biggest
classes, such as introduction to international relations, the latest research is always part of the
curriculum. My work on NATO and Afghanistan shapes how I teach about alliances. The work
of others influences what I say about democracies and war.

The pity is that such beliefs generate ignorance rather than understanding, providing support for
those politicians who want to cut spending at universities (even though such spending is a better
multiplier than prisons, planes or other forms of pork). Are our incentives too skewed? Perhaps.
We could have an intelligent debate about that, as some scholars have done much research
(oops!) about the economics of universities and the tradeoffs of various kinds of education
systems.

It may very well be the case that our current set of incentives emphasize research more than
teaching, but we need to be clear that research is a fundamental part of the university enterprise,
serving the public good, and that research and teaching are inextricably linked. After all, if we’re
not engaged in the study of what we teach, then all we can do is repeat what we learned a long
time ago.

Stephen Saideman is the Canada Research Chair in International Security and Ethnic Conflict at McGill
University.