There are certain comments people make in passing that stay with you for years.
One of those comments has followed me for almost two decades.
When I was an undergraduate student, one of my professors shared stories about studying in the United States on a scholarship during the 1980s. He described how poor he had been, joking that he would arrive at academic conferences hungry enough to treat the complimentary cookies as a proper meal.
At some point during that conversation, he casually said:
“No one misses out on an education because of money.”
I suspect what he meant was that determination matters more than excuses.
But what I heard was something slightly different:
If you want to study badly enough, money will somehow work itself out.
That belief stayed with me for years.
Looking back, it probably influenced the way I approached my own PhD journey.
Starting Without a Real Financial Plan
Five years ago, when I began applying for PhD programmes, I did not have a detailed financial strategy.
I simply assumed that if I were accepted, I would find a way to pay for it.
After all, hadn’t I spent years believing that money shouldn’t be the thing that stops someone from studying?
Then the acceptance letter arrived.
And suddenly the numbers became real.
Tuition fees of more than £20,000 per year were no longer abstract figures on a university website. They were now a reality I had to face.
That was when I started seriously researching funding opportunities.
The Myth That “Everyone Gets Funded”
One statement I often hear is:
“Nobody does a PhD without funding.”
In some fields, that is largely true.
In STEM subjects, medicine, pharmacy, engineering, and some design disciplines, fully funded PhD positions are relatively common. Many doctoral researchers in these areas are employed through research projects and receive both tuition coverage and a stipend.
This is why people in those fields sometimes assume that all PhD students are funded.
But the situation is very different in the humanities and many social science disciplines.
Funding certainly exists, but it is much harder to find and far more competitive.
For international students, the challenge can be even greater.
When You Fall Between Funding Categories
Many funding schemes are designed for one of two groups:
- UK, European, or Commonwealth students
- Students from developing countries
As a Korean student, I often found myself fitting neither category.
More than once, I discovered a promising scholarship only to realise that I was ineligible before I could even apply.
The main funding routes available to students like me were:
- UK research funding schemes (such as UKRI)
- Scholarships from the Korean government or private foundations
- University-specific funding
- Employer-sponsored study leave
The opportunities exist, but competition is intense.
Strong grades alone are rarely enough.
Applicants often need an excellent research proposal, convincing references, and a project that aligns with the priorities of the funding body.
What I Saw Among My Fellow PhD Students
During my PhD, I met students with very different funding situations.
One Greek colleague received full support from the Onassis Foundation. The scholarship was prestigious enough that he regularly listed “Onassis Scholar” on conference biographies and academic profiles.
Another colleague was funded through a research project supported by the Leverhulme Trust. In cases like this, the funding is often linked to a larger research programme rather than awarded directly to the student.
These opportunities can be wonderful, but they usually come with responsibilities beyond your own doctoral project. Many funded PhD students contribute to wider research activities, assist with project work, or support their supervisor’s research team.
There is rarely such a thing as completely free money.
I also knew several doctoral students who were entirely self-funded.
One Korean student managed to secure a few smaller grants during the programme, which helped offset tuition costs.
Another supplemented their income by working as a teaching assistant throughout the academic year.
Among my own supervisor’s students, both a Japanese student and a Chinese student were self-funded. The Japanese student paid domestic tuition fees because of family circumstances and still felt the cost was significant.
By that point, I had met enough self-funded PhD students to realise they were far more common than people often assume.
Watching from the sidelines, it was easy to see how difficult that path could be.
The Funding Offer That Changed Everything
My programme was due to start at the end of September.
I received my fully funded offer at the end of August.
Just a few weeks before the PhD began.
For me, that funding transformed the entire experience.
A fully funded PhD in the UK typically means tuition fees are covered and a living stipend is provided for the duration of the programme.
Instead of constantly worrying about finances, I was able to focus on research.
That does not make a PhD easy.
But it removes one major source of stress.
What I Believe Now
Looking back, I would probably put my professor’s statement this way:
I do not believe that money never prevents people from pursuing an education.
Sometimes it does.
Financial barriers are real.
But I have also learned that when people genuinely want to continue their education, they often find ways to keep going.
Some take on teaching work.
Some piece together smaller grants and scholarships.
Some rely on family support.
And some are fortunate enough to find the right opportunity at exactly the right moment.
So perhaps the truth lies somewhere in between.
Perhaps success in academia is not just about determination, and not just about money either.
More often, it comes down to a combination of persistence, opportunity, timing, and a little luck.
In my next post, I’ll share the practical side of the story: how I searched for PhD funding in the UK, where I found opportunities, and how I eventually secured my own funding.
