øren Kierkegaard (1813–1855) was 25 and Regine Olsen was 14. After two years of dating, Kierkegaard proposed to Regine in October 1840, and she accepted. Everything was set for them to marry and build a typical 19th-century European family. They would probably move into a beautiful house and have many children. She was intelligent, cultured and witty. She was deeply admired by Kierkegaard and described by many as a young woman of great sensitivity and vivacity. Kierkegaard saw Regine as the embodiment of the romantic, devoted wife and mother who could offer him emotional stability and a harmonious family life. Their future together would be filled with happiness.
However, the engagement only lasted a year. In October 1841, Kierkegaard abruptly ended the relationship in a deliberately painful manner by sending Regine the engagement ring with a cold letter asking her to return it, and insinuating that she would find a better man than him. Regine was deeply shaken.

Girl Reading a Letter at an Open Window (c. 1657–1659), by Johannes Vermeer. In Vermeer’s young woman, absorbed in the letter she is reading by the window, we can imagine the silent moment when Regine received Kierkegaard’s letter announcing the end of their engagement.
Regine later married Johan Frederik Schlegel, a government official who would later become governor of the Danish West Indies. On the other hand, Kierkegaard never married. Years later, he wrote to Regine to explain that he had broken off the engagement because he did not consider himself worthy of her. He believed that he would be unable to make her happy. Like his father, he suffered from depression. When he died in 1855 at the age of 42, he asked that Regine be informed personally. When she died in 1904, she requested to be buried next to him — and so it was done, in Assistens Cemetery in Copenhagen.
‘‘She is the only being I have ever loved. I will never forget the sound of her voice.’’ — Søren Kierkegaard.
Following the breakup, Kierkegaard immersed himself in an extraordinarily prolific period of philosophical writing. Much of his subsequent reflection on the ‘leap of faith’, the loneliness of the individual before God and the paradox of existence stemmed from this experience. Unlike other philosophers of his time, he was not concerned with the construction of universal rational systems, abstract investigations into the nature of being, the historical progress of the Spirit, or the search for objective and scientific knowledge of reality, as pursued by Hegel and other representatives of German idealism. Instead, he turned to the individual as a concrete entity, examining their freedom, their anguish in the face of choice, their existential responsibility and their subjective relationship with God. Thus, he established a philosophy of interiority and existence that was in direct contrast to the impersonality, systematisation and abstraction of the prevailing Hegelian philosophy.
“Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.”— Søren Kierkegaard.
A key moment in the story was Kierkegaard’s decision: should he marry Regine or break off the engagement and face the consequences? Consequently, the concept of choice became one of the central themes of his philosophy. For Kierkegaard, every choice involves anguish because, when we choose one path, we abandon all the others. To choose is to lose something. Whether deciding whether to marry, to go to university or to start working, or to travel or stay where you are, in all cases there is a renunciation and therefore pain. However, Kierkegaard suggests that this suffering can be transcended when the choice is meaningful, when it expresses an inner value or deep conviction that guides us towards what really matters.
Kierkegaard’s choice shows that meaningful decisions require courage and sacrifice, as well as a deep commitment to our beliefs. He gave up a life that would certainly have brought him happiness in order to follow an urgent inner calling: to become who he was meant to be; to preserve his absolute relationship with God; and to prevent his melancholy from harming someone he loved. His actions demonstrate that meaningful choices do not always bring comfort, but they do bring purpose; they may not offer immediate happiness, but they provide direction. Like Kierkegaard, we too need to choose paths that express what matters most to us at crucial moments, even when they are difficult.
“The knight of faith gives everything, but in the same renunciation, receives everything back.” — Søren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling.
Suppose I am interested in buying a new mobile phone. Model A has greater storage capacity and memory, while Model B has a flexible screen and a high-quality camera. Inevitably, choosing one means losing the advantages of the other, which is frustrating. However, if I discover that the company responsible for Model A is involved in environmental pollution and worker exploitation, my choice becomes meaningful. In that case, choosing model B would be a meaningful decision. My anguish dissipates because my decision is guided not only by desire or a comparison of features, but also by a deeper moral sense. According to Kierkegaard, it is impossible to escape the anguish that accompanies every choice because it is part of the human condition. However, it is possible to overcome this anguish by choosing according to what gives direction and value to our existence, which provides meaning. It is from this emphasis on subjectivity, individual freedom and responsibility that existentialism would later emerge.
“Let nothing define us. Let nothing subject us. Let freedom be our very substance.” — Simone de Beauvoir.
Kierkegaard’s philosophy encourages us to reflect on our daily decisions. While there is always some degree of suffering involved in making choices, this can be minimised when we choose with purpose and meaning. For Kierkegaard, a meaningful choice is one that is made authentically and is aligned with our deepest values, accepting the anguish and renunciation that are inherent in every decision. This is particularly evident when we need to decide on our professional future. Upon completing a course — whether technical, undergraduate or postgraduate — it is common to face a dilemma about the next step. If we have completed a technical course, should we continue working in the same field, or change careers? Should we enrol on an undergraduate programme? After completing an undergraduate degree, should we pursue a postgraduate qualification, take another course, or enter the job market? And after completing a postgraduate degree, should we start a business, pursue an academic career or seek employment in the private sector? These are difficult decisions, especially because we are usually very young and inexperienced when it comes to choices that shape an entire career path. Nevertheless, a choice must be made — and it will inevitably involve sacrifices. Let’s take a closer look at postgraduate studies in particular.
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"Wanderer above the Sea of Fog", by Caspar David Friedrich (1774–1840). Like the traveller facing the fog, we too face uncertain paths: in existentialism, choice is inevitable, and it is what defines us.
The anguish of choice in postgraduate studies
The number of cases of depression among postgraduate students is increasing. Recent research shows that master’s and doctoral students exhibit significantly higher rates of depression and anxiety symptoms than the general population. In some samples, up to 40% of postgraduate students show moderate to severe signs of depression. Large-scale studies have reported that they are more than six times more likely to experience depression and anxiety than people outside of postgraduate studies (see the article on this research and the figure below). Other studies also indicate that up to 50% of postgraduate students experience symptoms of depression, anxiety or burnout during their studies, highlighting a concerning trend in mental health within academic environments (see the original article).
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Prevalence of anxiety and depression in the postgraduate student population studied in the paper ‘Evidence for a mental health crisis in graduate education’, Nature Biotechnology, volume 36 (2018). a) Overall prevalence. b) Prevalence of anxiety and depression by gender. c) Effect of perceived work-life balance. d) Effect of the relationship with the supervisor.
This is because postgraduate studies intensely bring together all the elements described by Kierkegaard: uncertainty, responsibility, loneliness, difficult choices and the constant feeling that every decision involves giving up many potential paths.
Perhaps the biggest dilemma when enrolling on a postgraduate course is the feeling of being suspended between two worlds. In a sense, we still see ourselves as students, whereas our peers who started working immediately after graduation appear to lead more independent and ‘adult’ lives. This can give us the impression that we are not moving forward and that we have fallen behind in life’s stages. Additionally, we question whether we made the right choice. The possibility that our decision could have irreversible consequences for our future causes constant unease. This uncertainty itself is a source of anguish — in the existential sense, a mixture of fear, responsibility and freedom when faced with unknown paths.
In addition, loneliness is a very common feeling during postgraduate studies. During undergraduate studies, we interact with colleagues daily, work in groups and share the challenges we face. At postgraduate level, however, each student develops their own project and often follows an individual path, facing problems and challenges that cannot always be fully understood or shared with others. Work becomes more solitary, social interactions decrease and responsibility for the progress of the research falls almost entirely on the student. This combination of high autonomy, high expectations and limited daily interaction tends to intensify the feeling of isolation.
‘‘Loneliness does not come from having no one around, but from not being able to communicate what is important to us.’’ — Carl Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections (1961).
Another challenging aspect is the chosen research area and interaction with the supervisor. In some fields, obtaining unprecedented results can take a long time, and this delay can be a significant source of anxiety. Additionally, some supervisors treat postdoctoral students as though they were undergraduates, forgetting that they are trained professionals with their own academic careers and identities. In certain contexts, especially in countries where the scholarship is managed directly by the supervisor, the relationship can resemble that between a boss and an employee. This can lead to excessive demands, long working hours, strict deadlines and the expectation that postdoctoral researchers must be fully available, ignoring the fact that these individuals have lives outside the university. All of these factors combined create fertile ground for emotional exhaustion, contributing to anxiety, burnout and persistent feelings of inadequacy.
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"The Passion of Creation" by Leonid Pasternak (1862–1945). The work depicts the silent intensity of those who struggle to transform effort into meaning.
Thinking this way, it might seem as though there is no reason to enrol in postgraduate studies. However, this is precisely the point at which Kierkegaard’s ideas become relevant. In order to overcome the difficulties and anxieties of this journey, it is crucial that the process has meaning. This does not eliminate the challenges, but it transforms the way they are experienced. Rather than comparing yourself to colleagues who have entered the job market or imagining what life would be like if you had chosen a different path, your focus shifts towards a sense of mission and inner responsibility. Research ceases to be merely an academic exercise and becomes a means of contributing to the advancement of human knowledge. In this context, difficulties are no longer seen as signs of failure, but as inevitable obstacles on a path that leads to something greater.
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Instead of becoming discouraged when your research does not yield the expected results, you can start to view negative results as valuable knowledge and clues that will guide your next steps. Looking at the work of past researchers helps us to understand that major scientific advances almost always arise from long periods of uncertainty and failed attempts. No researcher has ever made an important discovery without facing doubts, detours and mistakes. Recognising this makes the process less lonely and more human. Albert Einstein himself went through periods when his ideas seemed to be failing. He introduced the so-called cosmological constant into his models of the static universe, only to later recognise it as a mistake — a term he referred to as his biggest error. However, this same constant has since returned to play a central role in modern theories of dark energy, demonstrating how an apparent mistake can lead to new insights in scientific understanding.
“Never give up on what you really want to do. The person with big dreams is more powerful than one with all the facts.” — Albert Einstein.
In short, postgraduate study presents several challenges, but having a clear purpose makes the journey more bearable and reduces the sense of struggle. Furthermore, it is important to recognise that postgraduate study offers a distinctive experience. Through it, we learn to learn independently; to formulate and investigate relevant questions; to conduct research; to think critically; to deal with uncertainty; to organise our time; and to build new knowledge — skills that are rare outside of an academic environment. These are skills that stay with us long after we have obtained our degree, shaping our intellectual identity and the way we understand the world.
In summary, postgraduate study has the potential to make us better individuals: more reflective, attentive and aware of our ability to transform reality. Although it is challenging, this process helps us evolve in many ways, from achieving intellectual maturity to developing emotional strength in the face of uncertainty.
‘Science is more than a body of knowledge; it is a way of thinking.’ — Carl Sagan (The Demon-Haunted World, 1995).
In postgraduate studies, what are the important choices?
In conclusion, I would like to offer some recommendations to help you get the most out of your postgraduate studies. Drawing on over 15 years’ experience of teaching and mentoring over 30 students, I have identified some key points. I will soon write a more detailed text on the subject, but for now, here are some fundamental suggestions:
1 — Choose with purpose: If you want to pursue postgraduate studies, make sure you have a good reason for doing so. Many students embark on this path out of inertia, simply because it is easier to remain in the same environment and maintain their student routine. However, this is the worst possible way to approach postgraduate studies, given that they present very different challenges and demands to undergraduate studies. Choose postgraduate study because you want to learn something challenging, reach the pinnacle of knowledge, discover what humanity has not yet revealed, and study what has not even made it into books. Your main goal should be to evolve intellectually, contributing to collective development through teaching, research and problem-solving that broadens our understanding of the world.
If choice has no meaning, we risk becoming like Sisyphus, eternally pushing the boulder up the mountain without understanding why. We are condemned not by the effort itself, but by its lack of purpose. According to Albert Camus, Sisyphus’s punishment lies not in the boulder he pushes, which always returns to the starting point, but in the absence of meaning that renders the task truly absurd. Therefore, choosing with purpose is the only way to transform postgraduate study into a worthwhile journey.
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Sisyphus, by Tiziano Vecellio, 1548–1549. Sisyphus’ stone is the symbol of every meaningless choice: without purpose, the effort is repeated; with purpose, the journey is transformed.
2 — Choose your supervisor carefully: Tthe supervisor will play a decisive role in your postgraduate studies, so choose wisely. Remember that he/she will support you for two to five years (or more), depending on whether you are studying for a Master’s or a Doctoral degree. It is therefore essential that you have at least some personal and intellectual affinity with your potential supervisor, and that he or she is open to discussing ideas with you and collaborating with you on your project. Talk to other students in the group to find out about their experience of supervision, the level of demand and how students are treated. The number of projects and publications of the future supervisor alone is not the best indicator of a positive postgraduate experience. Above all, look for affinity, empathy, and competence — a combination that supports healthy and productive supervision.
3 — Choose your research area: This is a difficult but fundamental decision. Look for an area that genuinely interests you — something you want to study, not just because you have to. It is essential to have genuine curiosity, as you will devote several years, or perhaps your entire academic career, to researching specific topics. Of course, you can change areas along the way, but try to choose something you can stick with for at least two years. If you realise you have made the wrong choice, do not hesitate to change — there is nothing wrong with abandoning a topic that does not spark your curiosity. You can always enrol in another postgraduate programme, or even more than one.
As a curiosity, I recommend this infographic published in Physics World, where you can discover your scientific identity in a humorous way. This may help you make your choice.
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Solving your scientific identity crisis: //physicsworld.com/a/solving-your-scientific-identity-crisis
4 — Choose a suitable problem to study: With the help of your supervisor, select a problem that is neither too simple nor unfeasible, and that has not yet been solved. Uri Alon’s essay, ‘How to Choose a Good Scientific Problem’, provides an excellent guide to this process. According to Alon, every scientific question can be analysed along two axes: ease of approach (from easy to difficult) and potential knowledge gain (from low to high). The best questions lie at the efficient frontier between these axes: they are challenging, yet have the potential to produce significant advances. Beginning students should start with relatively accessible problems that still provide substantial learning, while more experienced researchers or established laboratories should tackle more difficult, higher-impact questions. A problem must be at the limit of what can be solved with the available tools and still lead to relevant discoveries; it is not enough for a problem to be easy or merely interesting. A problem must be at the limit of what can be solved with the available tools and still lead to relevant discoveries. In this scenario, the supervisor’s role is crucial: his/her experience helps map the scientific terrain, identify viable problems and avoid trivial questions or impossible challenges. Supervisors assist students in formulating clear questions, balancing freedom and structure, and sharing their own experiences, including failures, to highlight that science is built on trial and error. More than just pointing the way, supervisors help students find a scientific purpose, ensuring that the choice of problem is not only possible, but also meaningful.
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Choosing a scientific problem requires balancing difficulty and impact. As researchers advance in their careers, their ideal problems shift along the ‘Pareto frontier,’ moving from simple questions for beginners to profound challenges for experienced researchers and established laboratories. Source: How To Choose a Good Scientific Problem, Molecular Cell, 2009.
5 — Have a life outside of university: It is important to cultivate activities that recharge you, broaden your perspective and help you to disconnect from the daily pressures of research. Hobbies, socialising, exercise, spending time with family and simply resting are all activities that can strengthen your mental health and reduce the feeling that your entire identity depends on academic performance. A balanced life reduces stress and improves creativity, productivity and decision-making skills, including those related to research.
Even after making these choices, if a student is still unhappy with their postgraduate studies, they should not be afraid to give up or change courses. Giving up does not indicate a lack of ability; it simply means that another way of life may better align with their aspirations. People give up on marriages, purchases, trips and various other commitments all the time. Therefore, giving up on postgraduate study is not abnormal or a reason to feel guilty. Everyone has their own pace and way of developing, so finding a path that makes sense is always the most important thing. If you decide to continue despite facing greater difficulties, asking for help is a sign of maturity and wisdom, not weakness. Maintaining mental health is the most important thing, not research.
However, when these choices align, postgraduate study becomes an experience of personal and intellectual growth that brings us closer to who we want to become, rather than merely being an academic stage. Consequently, it becomes more than just a title; it becomes a significant phase in our life’s journey.
Further reading:
- Fear and Trembling, Søren Kierkegaard.
- Existentialism is a Humanism, Jean-Paul Sartre.
- How To Choose a Good Scientific Problem, Uri Alon, Molecular Cell, 2009.
- Evidence for a mental health crisis in graduate education, Evans et al. Nature Biotechnology, 2018.
- On the shoulders of giants: from the pre-Socratic philosophy to ChatGPT. This is my previous post on Medium where I discuss the evolution of knowledge and the myth of the lone genius.

