Constructive(?) Criticism

You can always count on a bit of academic ranting on "feedback day."

I have just received yet another of my early drafts, covered in red ink and questions I can't answer. "What does this mean?!" The red ink shouts across the page; "WHY?" demands the crimson pen. "I don't fucking know!" I respond as I throw the draft into the recycling bin, quickly realise that I need those notes and go hoking through said bin to retrieve the document. Meanwhile, the friendly note at the top of the page is taunting me softly.

"Hi [my name]. Thanks for getting this to me. Here are a few notes, mainly non-substantive. I won't go into too much detail, I'll discuss the thematic issues with you next week. I think we're starting to get somewhere!"

I feel like giving him a taste of his own medicine, answering his note with some vague, rhetorical questions of my own: "Exactly WHERE do you think we are getting?" or "Can you unpack the word thematic? It is problematic for me," or finally "A FEW NOTES! A FEW NOTES! SERIOUSLY?!" The random questions which do nothing but point out something he dislikes and do not in any way direct me towards where to go next are good, but my favourite is when he makes snide comments like: Perhaps it would be an idea to limit your use of capital letters to proper nouns- that is, names of people and places. To which I would like to respond "Ooooh, is that what proper nouns are? Goodness gracious, I am so glad that after almost a decade in higher education someone pointed that out to me. Thank you, oh wise sage."

I should point out here that this man who I am mercilessly mocking is perhaps the nicest person I have ever met. He is wildly intelligent, well-respected and extensively published. He makes himself available to me on a pretty regular basis, and most of my peers would be grateful for the sheer volume of comments with which he provides me. It's just that I don't understand what he means. And I get the distinct impression that he isn't always necessarily sure either... Couple this with my other supervisor's often contradictory remarks, and throw in my crippling self-doubt regarding all things academic, and the result is one very confused little PhD student.

The way I see it, there are several main issues I have with receiving critiques from my supervisors.

1. They seem to be focused more on grammar than content.
The fact of the matter is I don't really need a supervisor for grammar correction. One of my closest friends from home is the editorial assistant to the president of Harvard - I will just send him my drafts if I am worried about punctuation and sentence fragments. Yes, these things are important, but they are secondary at this early stage. I need to know if my theoretical framework makes sense, if the scope of my project is too wide, if it is apparent that I am talking a bit pile of shite and have no idea what I am doing, etc.
Comma placement just seems a bit trivial at this point.

2. The left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing.
One supervisor tells me to focus on organisational structure, case studies and policy; the other agrees with my desire to take a 'bottom-up' perspective.
One supervisor thinks my writing style is 'preachy' and 'overstated;' the other thinks this is an important part of my voice.
One supervisor thinks I am miles ahead of where I need to be; one is beginning to panic that without early data collection I am floundering.
However, get them both together in the same room and BAM! Total love-in! They can't stop agreeing with each other.
Don't ask me which side they are taking this week.

3. My lead supervisor is Old School - very Old School (there I go with those pesky capital letters again).
I want to do research that looks at people's experiences, which empowers participants and includes them in the development of the project. I want to work under the assumption that they are the experts and that the only way I will get the data I need is by letting them have a modicum of control. This, my friends, is far too ethereal a concept for my lead supervisor. He is a positivist. Research should be pure, scientific, objective. It is a view that is well respected in some scientific communities. It has its strengths. It is not me (You can imagine what color the draft of my methodological chapter is at this point - ten points if you guessed red).

4. And finally - I know what's wrong, but now what?
I know what parts of my work my supervisors think are weak. I know what they don't like and what they think doesn't work. This has been made fairly clear via the red ink. But exactly what about it is wrong? Am I on the right track? Should I throw it away and start again? Should I just turn off my computer, hand over the keys to my office and go find a graduate job at PriceWaterhouse Coopers while I still have a chance for a normal life? Obviously if I put it in there, I thought it was correct. If it is not, I am going to need a little direction.
Throw me a bone, people.

There is a slight chance that part of the problem is my inability to accept criticism [insert gasp of shock and disbelief here]. I know everybody hates to be corrected, but it really does make me insane. Tell me I have done something wrong and I become bitchy, defensive and defiant. It also propels what is already an un-healthy dose of self-loathing/doubt into overdrive. I am finding it tough enough to convince myself that I am at all capable of joining the 5% of the population psychotic enough to undertake a doctoral thesis; you could tell me that I used the wrong font size right now and I would probably be tempted to throw in the towel. I'm also just completely unaccustomed the vast amount of criticism I am getting. I blame my high school teachers and undergraduate lecturers. The only red writing they put on my essays was large, approving check marks at the ends of paragraphs or the occasional "Yes!" in the margins. They tricked me - lulled me into a false sense of security. Against the charges of poor grammar and badly developed arguments, my defense is a claim of entrapment.

"Poor [my name]," you must be thinking now. "Poor, poor, [my name] who gets paid to sit in a nice office next to a window and read and write about things she finds truly interesting. Poor, poor, poor, girl!" I hear you cry, "Being mentored by one of the national leaders in her field who gives her lots of time and attention, not to mention advice and support for her future career." By God, you're right! I've got it pretty tough here in my ivory tower! I wish I hadn't cut off my lovely long hair so I could toss it down for a bit of rescuing. The final act of an academic damsel in distress. Alas, I guess I will just have to settle for a cup of coffee.