A PhD Is Not Just About Finding Something New. There Is More to It Than That.

 

Some little thoughts on originality, unexpected findings and lessons from my own PhD journey.

When I was doing my PhD, one phrase that kept appearing in the academic world was "original contribution to knowledge." If you are a PhD student, I am sure you have heard this phrase many times too. During proposal presentations, discussions with supervisors, research methodology classes and even viva preparation, this phrase seems to follow us everywhere.

But have you ever stopped for a moment and wondered what it actually means? Does it mean our research must discover something that nobody in the world has ever discovered before? Does it mean we need to come up with a completely new theory? Or perhaps find a research topic so unique that nobody has written about it?

Well, after completing my own PhD journey, I have come to appreciate that originality is not necessarily as complicated as we sometimes make it. In fact, I think we sometimes put too much pressure on ourselves, especially when trying to convince others that our research is something special.

One interesting thing I realised is that originality does not always appear exactly where we expect to find it. Sometimes, we begin our research with one idea about what our contribution might be, only to discover something rather different when we finally analyse our data and write our discussion chapter.

So, I thought I would share a few things I learned along the way, including a little plot twist from my own doctoral research. Nothing too academic or complicated, just some personal reflections that might be useful, especially if you are still trying to figure out what makes your PhD research original.

 Your PhD Doesn't Have to Change the World

Sometimes, I think we expect too much from ourselves. We want our research to be special, our topic to sound impressive and our findings to be something extraordinary. Nothing wrong with that, of course. After all, we are spending years working on something, so naturally we want it to mean something. But here is something I have learned. Your PhD does not have to change the whole world. It just needs to contribute something meaningful to what we already know.

For example, let's say many researchers have already studied leadership in organisations. Does that mean there is nothing left for us to investigate? Of course not. Perhaps previous researchers studied leadership in private companies, but we want to understand it within Malaysian public universities. Maybe they used qualitative interviews, while we want to examine relationships between variables through quantitative research. Or perhaps we want to explore how another factor might influence an existing relationship.

The general topic may be similar, but our approach and the insights we produce could be different. And that difference, if properly justified and supported by evidence, may become part of our original contribution. Of course, simply changing the research location or method does not automatically make a study original. What matters is whether the difference helps us understand something meaningful that previous research has not fully explained.

I think this is where we sometimes misunderstand the idea of originality. We assume that being original means everything about our research must be new, from the topic and theories to the research framework and findings. But research does not always work that way. Sometimes, originality comes from building on what others have already discovered, questioning an existing assumption or providing new evidence from a different context.

And interestingly, we may not fully recognise that contribution at the beginning of our research. Sometimes, it becomes clearer much later, especially when we start examining what our findings actually mean.

 Sometimes, Research Doesn't Give Us the Answer We Expected

This is probably the part I can relate to most through my own PhD experience. When we develop our research framework and hypotheses, we naturally have certain expectations. Based on previous studies and theories, we may expect a positive relationship between two variables or believe that a particular factor will influence another. We spend so much time developing our arguments from the literature, so naturally we hope that our findings will support what we have proposed.

But what happens when our data tell us something different? What if a relationship that we expected to be significant turns out to be statistically insignificant? Or what if the relationship exists, but behaves differently from what we initially expected? Does it mean our research has failed? Not necessarily. Sometimes, this is where the interesting part of research begins.

Let me share a little example from my own doctoral research. My study examined how ethical leadership and Islamic Work Ethics influence the development of learning organisations in Malaysian public universities, with psychological safety acting as a moderator. I collected data from 303 administrative staff across two public universities. Basically, I wanted to understand how leadership, work ethics and employees' sense of psychological safety might relate to an organisation's ability to continuously learn and improve.

Some findings were quite straightforward. Ethical leadership showed a significant positive relationship with learning organisations, which was consistent with what I expected. However, Islamic Work Ethics did not show a statistically significant direct relationship with learning organisations. To be honest, this finding was quite surprising, perhaps even a little alarming at first, especially when previous studies had suggested that Islamic Work Ethics could encourage positive workplace behaviour, knowledge sharing and innovation.

So, naturally, I started wondering why. Does this mean Islamic Work Ethics are not important in developing a learning organisation? Of course, we cannot simply make that conclusion. When I explored this further in my thesis discussion chapter, I realised there were several possible explanations. One interesting idea is that having good personal work ethics does not automatically mean an organisation will become a learning organisation.

Think about it. An employee may be honest, hardworking, responsible and committed to Islamic ethical values. But if the organisation does not have the right systems, supportive leadership or opportunities for knowledge sharing, those personal values may not necessarily translate into organisational learning. This explanation can be understood through the organisational learning framework by Crossan and colleagues (1999), which describes how learning moves from individuals to groups and eventually becomes part of organisational practices.

Another possible explanation is what we might call a normalisation effect. In a workplace where Islamic ethical values are already familiar and widely accepted, these principles may have become part of everyday working life. As a result, their influence on differences in organisational learning may be less noticeable. This is one possible interpretation that can be discussed using institutional theory, although my research did not directly test whether such a normalisation effect had occurred.

And then came another interesting finding, something I would call a little plot twist in my thesis.

I examined whether psychological safety, which generally refers to employees feeling safe to speak up, share ideas and take interpersonal risks, would influence the relationship between ethical leadership and learning organisations. Interestingly, the positive relationship between ethical leadership and learning organisations was stronger when psychological safety was low, rather than high.

At first, this may sound a little strange. We normally think that a psychologically safe working environment should support positive organisational outcomes. So why would ethical leadership show a stronger relationship with organisational learning when psychological safety was lower? One possible explanation is that ethical leadership may become particularly important in environments where employees feel less confident about speaking up or sharing their opinions. In such situations, leaders who demonstrate fairness, integrity and ethical behaviour may play an especially meaningful role in supporting organisational learning. Of course, this is a possible interpretation, not proof of why the relationship occurred.

What made these findings interesting to me was not simply that some hypotheses were unsupported or that the results were different from what I expected. It was the opportunity to look at the relationships from another perspective, explore possible explanations and connect the findings with existing theories. These discussions helped me see aspects of my research contribution that were not necessarily obvious when I first developed my proposal.

And that brings me to something I think postgraduate students should remember. Sometimes, the originality or novelty of our research becomes clearer only after we have collected the data, analysed the findings and started writing the discussion chapter.

Of course, unexpected findings do not automatically mean we have discovered something new. We still need to compare our results with previous research, consider the limitations of our study and support our interpretations with relevant theories and evidence. But we should not immediately see an unsupported hypothesis as a failure either. Sometimes, a finding that initially seems disappointing can open the door to a more interesting discussion.

Looking back, I think this was one of the most valuable lessons from my PhD journey. The findings that surprised me were also the ones that encouraged me to think more deeply about my research. And perhaps that is where part of our original contribution can emerge, not simply from discovering something completely new, but from offering a meaningful explanation or a different perspective on something we thought we already understood.

 What Makes Our Research Good Enough?

Another question worth thinking about is what actually makes research good enough, particularly when we want to publish our findings. We often focus so much on originality that we sometimes overlook other important aspects of research quality. An interesting finding may attract attention, but it does not automatically mean the study is strong enough to be published.

Think about the journal articles we read. A good research paper should clearly explain what the researcher is trying to investigate and why the study matters. The methodology should be appropriate, the data should be suitable and the analysis should be properly conducted. More importantly, the conclusions should reflect what the findings actually show, rather than what the researcher wishes they had shown.

Sounds quite straightforward, right? But achieving all these things requires effort. We cannot simply claim that our research makes an important contribution without showing how the evidence supports that claim. We also cannot draw conclusions that go beyond what our data can reasonably tell us. Even when our findings are interesting, weak methodology or unsupported interpretations can affect the credibility of the study.

I think this is especially important when discussing unexpected findings. It can be tempting to describe every surprising result as something novel or groundbreaking. But originality is not just about finding something different. We need to explain why the difference matters, how it relates to existing knowledge and what others might learn from it.

A strong thesis is not necessarily the one with the most complicated words, the most impressive diagrams or the longest discussion. Sometimes, what matters more is how clearly we explain what we have done, why we did it and what we found. Good research is not about making everything sound complicated. It is about presenting a convincing argument based on appropriate evidence.

And perhaps this is also how originality becomes meaningful. It is not enough to say that our findings are new or different. We need to help readers understand what those findings add to the existing body of knowledge.

A Little Thought Before I End

If there is one thing I have come to appreciate after completing my PhD, it is that originality and novelty do not always appear in the way we expect.

When we first prepare our research proposal, we are usually asked to identify our contribution to knowledge. We explain our research gaps, justify our framework and describe what makes our study different from previous research. And yes, these are important parts of planning a PhD. We need a clear direction and a reasonable justification before beginning our study.

But there is something interesting about research. The contribution we propose at the beginning may not be exactly the same as the contribution we finally recognise at the end.

Sometimes, after months or even years of working on our thesis, we discover that our findings do not fully support our original expectations. Perhaps a relationship we expected to be significant turns out otherwise. Perhaps a variable behaves differently from what previous studies suggested. Or perhaps the results reveal a pattern that we did not initially anticipate.

At that moment, it may feel disappointing. We may even start questioning whether something has gone wrong with our research. But before jumping to that conclusion, perhaps we should ask ourselves another question: What are these findings actually trying to tell us?

I think this is where the discussion chapter becomes particularly meaningful. It is not merely a place to repeat our results or explain which hypotheses were accepted or rejected. It is where we begin to make sense of our findings, connect them with existing knowledge, consider possible explanations and identify what our research may genuinely contribute.

I am not suggesting that every unexpected result is a new discovery. Sometimes, a surprising finding may simply reflect the limitations of our data, research design or measurement. But sometimes, when properly examined and supported, it may reveal something worth understanding further. And that possibility is what makes research interesting.

So, to my fellow postgraduate students, especially those still worrying about originality and novelty, perhaps we should not expect to have every answer at the proposal stage. We certainly need to know why our research is worth conducting, but we should also remain open to what the findings may eventually reveal.

Your original contribution may begin with a research gap, a different context or a new approach. But it may also become clearer through an unexpected finding, a thoughtful interpretation or an explanation that helps us see an existing issue differently.

For me, that was one of the meaningful experiences of completing my PhD. I began with certain research expectations, but some of the most interesting discussions emerged from results that did not turn out quite as I had imagined.

Perhaps originality is not always something we must fully discover before starting our PhD. Sometimes, it is something we gradually recognise through the research process, and only truly understand when we reach the end of our thesis.

After all, research is not about making the findings agree with what we already believe. It is about being willing to learn something from what we actually discover.

And sometimes, the answer we never expected may be the one that gives our research its most interesting contribution.

Just a little sharing from my own PhD journey. I certainly do not have all the answers, but I hope these reflections offer something useful to those who are still finding their way.

To everyone still working on your thesis, keep going. You may discover something meaningful in places you least expect.

Feeling Stupid During Your PhD? Good. Maybe You're Doing Something Right.

Just some random thoughts about research, learning, and being okay with not knowing everything.

Let me share something interesting..

I recently came across an old article written by Martin A. Schwartz in 2008. The title really caught my attention.

“The Importance of Stupidity in Scientific Research.”

Stupidity? In research? Seriously? 

At first, the title sounds a bit funny. We always think researchers, especially PhD students, must be very clever people. They read thick books, write complicated papers, and talk about things that sometimes even Google cannot explain properly. Haha.

But this article made me think.

Maybe we have misunderstood what being a researcher really means.

You see, when we were in school, being smart usually meant knowing the correct answer.

Teacher asks a question. We answer correctly. We get good marks. Everybody happy.

But research is a different game.

In research, sometimes even your supervisor doesn't know the answer. Your professors may not know either. And that's perfectly normal.

Because if everybody already knows the answer, then what exactly are we researching?

Think about that for a while.

I remember during my own PhD journey, there were times when I felt completely lost.

Read one journal article, suddenly another five questions appeared.

Thought I understood something, then came another theory that made me confused again.

Sometimes I wondered, "Am I really doing a PhD, or am I just discovering how much I don't know?" 😂

And the funny thing is, the more we read, the more we realise how little we actually know.

Schwartz calls this productive stupidity.

Sounds strange, right?

But the meaning is actually beautiful.

It means we are brave enough to explore something we don't understand yet.

We ask questions. We make mistakes. We try again. Sometimes we get things wrong. Sometimes we spend days looking for an answer, only to discover that we were asking the wrong question from the beginning.

Frustrating? Of course lah.

But that's how learning happens.

One thing I really like about this article is the reminder that research is not about proving how clever we are.

It's about having the courage to admit that we don't know.

And believe me, saying "I don't know" is not always easy, especially when people expect you to know everything just because you are doing a PhD.

But actually, there is nothing wrong with not knowing.

The problem only starts when we pretend to know, or when we stop trying to learn.

Sometimes, our ego becomes a bigger obstacle than the research itself.

We are so afraid of looking stupid that we become afraid to ask questions.

And when we stop asking questions, we stop growing.

Simple as that.

Looking back at my own PhD journey, I realise something.

Perhaps those moments when I felt most confused were also the moments when I was learning the most.

Not because I suddenly became smarter overnight.

But because I slowly learned to be comfortable with uncertainty.

To accept that I don't need to have all the answers today.

I just need to keep searching.

And maybe that is one of the most valuable lessons a PhD can teach us.

Not how to become the smartest person in the room.

But how to remain curious, humble, and willing to learn, even when we think we already know enough.

So, to anyone currently doing research, especially my fellow PhD candidates, don't be too hard on yourself.

If today you feel lost, take a break.

If you don't understand something, ask.

If your research doesn't work, try another way.

And if you feel stupid sometimes, welcome to the club. Haha.

Just remember, feeling stupid doesn't automatically mean we are making progress. We still need to put in the effort, think carefully, and learn from our mistakes.

But don't let that feeling stop you.

Because sometimes, the most important discovery begins with three simple words.

"I don't know."

And perhaps the real beauty of education is not that we finally know everything.

It's that we become humble enough to realise we never will.

A PhD may give us the title of Doctor. But the real achievement is knowing that we will always remain students of life.

Just my two cents. 😊

---

Inspired by Martin A. Schwartz (2008), “The Importance of Stupidity in Scientific Research,” Journal of Cell Science, 121(11), 1771.

https://doi.org/10.1242/jcs.033340

Not Everyone Can Become a General, But Everyone Deserves a Meaningful Career

Sedikit renungan selepas hampir 30 tahun dalam tentera

Selepas hampir 30 tahun berkhidmat dalam tentera, ada banyak perkara yang hanya kita benar benar faham apabila kita keluar dan melihat semula organisasi dari luar. Semasa masih berkhidmat, kita bergerak mengikut sistem. Posting datang, kita pergi. Kursus datang, kita hadir. Diberi appointment, kita buat sebaik mungkin. Ada kawan yang naik pangkat lebih cepat, ada yang perlahan, ada yang akhirnya sampai ke pangkat tinggi dan ada juga yang berhenti pada satu tahap walaupun masih mempunyai bertahun tahun untuk berkhidmat.

Semakin saya fikirkan perkara ini, semakin saya merasakan bahawa pengurusan kerjaya dalam tentera sebenarnya jauh lebih besar daripada persoalan siapa naik pangkat dan siapa tidak. Ia adalah tentang bagaimana organisasi mengurus manusia yang telah dilatih dan dibentuknya selama 20 atau 30 tahun. Dalam bahasa pengurusan hari ini, kita bercakap tentang career development, talent management, human capital dan succession planning. Tetapi dalam bahasa mudah, persoalannya cuma satu. Adakah kita benar benar menggunakan orang kita sebaik mungkin?

Saya menulis ini bukan untuk mengatakan sistem kita semuanya salah. Jauh sekali. Sistem yang ada telah melahirkan ramai pegawai yang sangat baik dan profesional. Saya sendiri dibentuk oleh sistem tersebut. Tetapi selepas hampir tiga dekad melihat bagaimana kerjaya pegawai berkembang, saya fikir ada beberapa perkara yang wajar kita fikirkan semula.

Bila Sampai di Persimpangan

Dalam perjalanan kerjaya seorang pegawai, akan sampai satu tahap di mana laluan semakin sempit. Ini perkara biasa dalam mana mana organisasi berbentuk piramid. Tidak semua Kapten akan menjadi Mejar. Tidak semua Mejar akan menjadi Leftenan Kolonel. Tidak semua Leftenan Kolonel akan menjadi Kolonel, apatah lagi menjadi General.

Bagi generasi saya, salah satu persimpangan yang cukup besar ialah apabila seseorang pegawai sampai ke tahap Mejar dan pemilihan ke Maktab Turus Angkatan Tentera, atau MTAT, mula memainkan peranan penting dalam perjalanan kerjayanya. Mereka yang terpilih biasanya mempunyai laluan tertentu yang terbuka selepas itu. Mereka yang tidak terpilih pula mungkin melalui perjalanan yang berbeza.

Saya tidak melihat masalahnya pada hakikat bahawa bukan semua orang boleh pergi MTAT. Memang mustahil semua orang mendapat peluang yang sama. Persoalan yang lebih penting bagi saya ialah, apa yang kita lakukan kepada pegawai yang tidak melalui laluan itu?

Katakan seorang pegawai masih mempunyai 10 atau 15 tahun sebelum bersara. Dia mungkin tidak lagi berada dalam kelompok yang dirancang untuk laluan command tertentu. Tetapi adakah itu bermaksud pembangunan kerjayanya juga harus berhenti?

Dalam pengalaman saya, ada pegawai yang akhirnya berpusing pada appointment yang hampir sama. Sudah menjadi Ketua Kompeni, kemudian berpindah dan menjadi Ketua Kompeni lagi. Pergi batalion lain, buat perkara yang hampir sama lagi. Selepas beberapa kali, kita perlu bertanya, pengalaman baharu apa sebenarnya yang sedang kita bina pada pegawai tersebut?

Pemerhatian ini menarik apabila dibandingkan dengan kajian Husin et al. (2021) terhadap 1,686 pegawai TLDM. Kajian tersebut mendapati bahawa pusingan kerja yang kerap semata mata tidak semestinya mempercepatkan kenaikan pangkat. Sebaliknya, faktor seperti kekananan dan latihan yang mantap turut memainkan peranan dalam perkembangan kerjaya. Mereka turut menekankan bahawa pusingan kerja perlu dirancang dengan mengambil kira pangkat, pendidikan dan keperluan perjawatan.

Bagi saya, mesejnya cukup mudah.

Banyak posting tidak semestinya bermaksud banyak development.

Kadang kadang kita terlalu sibuk memindahkan manusia sehingga terlupa bertanya sama ada perpindahan itu sebenarnya sedang membangunkan manusia tersebut.

Apabila Peraturan Menjadi Kurang Jelas

Satu lagi perkara yang saya perhatikan sepanjang perkhidmatan ialah bagaimana pegawai memahami rules of the game dalam membina kerjaya.

Pada satu ketika dahulu, sekurang kurangnya pada persepsi ramai pegawai generasi saya, laluan itu kelihatan lebih mudah difahami. Untuk bergerak ke tahap tertentu, ada kursus yang perlu dilalui, appointment tertentu yang perlu dipegang dan pengalaman tertentu yang perlu dikumpulkan. Kita mungkin tidak suka keputusan yang dibuat, tetapi sekurang kurangnya kita memahami jalan yang perlu dilalui.

Apabila semakin banyak special cases dan pengecualian muncul, keadaan menjadi lebih complicated.

Perkara berkaitan MTAT ini juga pernah dibincangkan secara rasmi. Kementerian Pertahanan Malaysia (2026) dalam jawapan di Dewan Rakyat menjelaskan bahawa kursus MTAT bukan syarat wajib di bawah Akta Angkatan Tentera 1972 untuk kenaikan pangkat. Pertimbangan kenaikan pangkat turut mengambil kira faktor seperti kekosongan jawatan, tempoh perkhidmatan, kelayakan akademik, keperluan operasi, merit dan kompetensi. Pengecualian bersyarat juga boleh dipertimbangkan berdasarkan faktor tertentu seperti kepakaran teknikal, pengalaman medan dan keperluan kritikal perkhidmatan.

Saya boleh memahami rasional itu. Organisasi tentera tidak boleh terlalu rigid. Kadang kadang organisasi memang memerlukan seseorang dengan kepakaran tertentu dan sistem perlu mempunyai flexibility.

Tetapi flexibility juga mempunyai risikonya.

Apabila terlalu banyak keputusan kelihatan sebagai pengecualian kepada laluan yang selama ini difahami oleh anggota, orang di bawah mula tertanya tanya, what exactly are the rules?

Di sinilah timbul persepsi. Kita mula mendengar perkataan yang biasa didengar dalam banyak organisasi, "orang dia", "kabel", "networking" atau "my people".

Saya tidak mengatakan setiap special case berlaku kerana favouritism. Itu tuduhan yang terlalu besar dan tidak adil tanpa bukti. Ada kemungkinan pengecualian tertentu memang mempunyai justifikasi operasi atau organisasi yang kukuh.

Tetapi dalam pengurusan manusia, persepsi juga penting.

Sistem bukan sahaja perlu adil. Ia juga perlu dilihat sebagai adil.

Apabila seseorang pegawai memahami mengapa A dipilih dan B tidak dipilih, dia mungkin kecewa tetapi masih boleh menerima keputusan tersebut. Masalah bermula apabila dia langsung tidak memahami bagaimana keputusan itu dibuat.

Right Person, Wrong Place

Ini satu lagi perkara yang selalu bermain dalam fikiran saya.

Kita memilih seorang pegawai untuk mengikuti kursus tertentu, kadang kadang kursus yang sangat specialised dan mahal di luar negara. Katakan kita menghantar seseorang mengikuti kursus Electronic Warfare. Organisasi telah melaburkan wang, masa dan peluang kepada pegawai tersebut. Dia pulang dengan pengetahuan baharu, exposure baharu dan mungkin professional network yang sangat berguna.

Tetapi kemudian dia ditempatkan di appointment yang langsung tidak menggunakan kepakaran yang baru diperolehinya.

Mengapa?

Kadang kadang kerana kekosongan. Kadang kadang kerana keperluan organisasi. Dan berdasarkan apa yang saya lihat sendiri sepanjang perkhidmatan, preference terhadap tempat kerja dan hubungan sesama manusia juga kadang kadang boleh mempengaruhi perjalanan seseorang.

Di sinilah saya fikir kita perlu kembali kepada prinsip yang sangat simple, right person, right place, right time.

Latihan bukan hadiah kepada seseorang pegawai. Ia adalah investment organisasi.

Zainol et al. (2024) mengkaji 412 pemimpin dalam Kor Infantri Tentera Darat Malaysia dan mendapati bahawa aspek reka bentuk latihan, khususnya kandungan dan kaedah latihan, mempunyai hubungan yang signifikan dengan training transfer. Dalam bahasa mudah, nilai sebenar sesuatu latihan bukan hanya pada kursus yang telah dihadiri, tetapi sejauh mana ilmu dan kemahiran itu akhirnya boleh digunakan dalam pekerjaan.

Bagi saya ini common sense. Kalau kita membelanjakan wang dan masa membina sesuatu expertise, tetapi kemudian tidak meletakkan orang itu di tempat yang boleh menggunakan expertise tersebut, kita bukan sahaja mensia siakan potensi pegawai itu. Kita juga gagal mendapatkan pulangan terbaik daripada pelaburan organisasi.

Pegawai Staf Muda Bukan Masalah, Kurang Pengalaman Mungkin Masalah

Saya juga melihat satu kecenderungan lain. Ada pegawai yang masih agak muda dari segi pengalaman perkhidmatan sudah memegang appointment staf yang mempunyai pengaruh besar terhadap perancangan dan keputusan organisasi.

Saya mahu berhati hati di sini. Saya tidak percaya umur muda bermaksud seseorang tidak competent. Saya pernah bertemu ramai pegawai muda yang sangat pintar, cepat belajar dan mempunyai idea lebih segar daripada pegawai yang jauh lebih senior.

Jadi masalahnya bukan umur.

Masalahnya ialah experience dan institutional memory.

Lebih mencabar apabila seseorang hanya memegang appointment selama enam bulan atau tempoh yang terlalu singkat. Baru hendak memahami organisasi, stakeholders, sejarah sesuatu projek dan mengapa sesuatu keputusan dibuat beberapa tahun dahulu, sudah tiba masa untuk posting.

Pegawai baharu masuk. Dia pula datang dengan idea baharu. Beberapa bulan kemudian, orang lain datang pula.

Akhirnya banyak perkara sentiasa bermula, tetapi tidak banyak yang sempat matang.

Dalam pengurusan organisasi, ini membawa kita kepada persoalan organisational learning dan institutional memory. Organisasi bukan belajar melalui dokumen sahaja. Banyak pengetahuan sebenarnya berada dalam kepala manusia. Mengapa sesuatu keputusan dibuat, apa yang pernah gagal, siapa stakeholders utama, apa sensitiviti sesuatu isu dan apakah lessons learned yang mungkin tidak pernah tercatat dalam minit mesyuarat.

Apabila manusia bergerak terlalu cepat, sebahagian knowledge itu bergerak bersama mereka.

Saya fikir kita perlu bertanya bukan sahaja, "Siapa pegawai yang sesuai untuk appointment ini?" tetapi juga, "Berapa lama dia perlu berada di situ untuk benar benar memberi nilai?"

Tidak Semua Orang Boleh Naik, Tetapi Jangan Biarkan Mereka Berhenti Berkembang

Ini mungkin perkara yang paling dekat dengan hati saya.

Kita perlu menerima satu realiti. Struktur tentera adalah piramid. Tidak mungkin semua pegawai akan sampai ke pangkat tinggi. Jadi career management yang baik tidak boleh dibina atas assumption bahawa satu satunya bentuk kejayaan ialah promotion.

Bagaimana dengan pegawai yang kita sudah tahu mungkin tidak akan menjadi CO?

Adakah kerjayanya sudah selesai?

Saya fikir tidak.

Mungkin dia boleh menjadi instructor yang sangat baik. Mungkin dia mempunyai pengalaman operasi yang boleh digunakan untuk doctrine development. Mungkin dia sesuai dalam latihan, research, capability development, simulation, procurement, intelligence, liaison, safety atau bidang specialist yang lain.

Tetapi semua ini perlu dirancang.

Jangan biarkan seorang pegawai yang telah melakukan appointment sama berkali kali sekadar menunggu tarikh bersara.

Dalam kajian khusus mengenai ATM, Mohamed et al. (2023) mendapati bahawa career planning mempunyai hubungan yang signifikan dengan job satisfaction. Career development juga mempunyai hubungan yang signifikan dengan job satisfaction dan bertindak sebagai mediator dalam hubungan antara career planning dengan job satisfaction. Berdasarkan dapatan tersebut, penulis menekankan pentingnya menyelaraskan perancangan kerjaya dengan pembangunan kerjaya anggota.

Bagi saya, perkara ini sangat penting.

Manusia boleh menerima bahawa dia mungkin tidak akan menjadi General.

Tetapi lebih sukar untuk menerima perasaan bahawa organisasi sudah tidak tahu apa hendak dibuat dengannya.

Mungkin Kita Terlalu Mengurus Jawatan, Bukan Bakat

Di sinilah saya fikir kita perlu melihat semula peranan career management.

Cara paling mudah mengurus organisasi ialah melihat vacancy.

"Jawatan ini kosong bulan depan. Siapa kita hendak letak?"

Nama dicari. Posting dibuat. Vacancy selesai.

Administratively, problem solved.

Tetapi talent management sepatutnya bertanya soalan yang berbeza.

Siapa pegawai ini? Apa pengalaman yang dia sudah ada? Apa kepakaran yang organisasi telah laburkan kepadanya? Apa kekuatannya? Apa appointment yang dia perlukan selepas ini? Dan lima tahun dari sekarang, kita mahu dia menjadi apa?

Itulah beza antara managing vacancies dengan managing talent.

Menariknya, Tentera Darat Malaysia (2023) sendiri telah memberikan perhatian kepada talent management dalam penerbitan Sorotan Darat. Antara perkara yang dibincangkan ialah keperluan mengenal pasti lebih awal pegawai dan anggota yang mempunyai potensi untuk bergerak ke tahap lebih tinggi supaya pembangunan kerjaya mereka dapat dilaksanakan secara lebih tersusun.

Ini bermaksud idea tersebut sebenarnya bukan sesuatu yang asing kepada organisasi kita.

Pada saya, cabaran berikutnya ialah bagaimana kita menterjemahkan konsep itu daripada policy kepada kehidupan sebenar seorang pegawai.

Talent management tidak sepatutnya hanya mengenal pasti siapa yang berpotensi menjadi General suatu hari nanti. Ia juga sepatutnya menjawab persoalan, bagaimana kita mendapatkan nilai terbaik daripada mereka yang mungkin tidak akan sampai ke sana?

Kerana organisasi masih memerlukan Mejar yang bagus.

Kita masih memerlukan Leftenan Kolonel yang bagus.

Dan tidak semua orang perlu menjadi General untuk memberi sumbangan yang besar kepada tentera.

Succession Planning Bukan Sekadar Mencari Siapa Ganti Siapa

Satu lagi perkara yang saya fikir perlu diberikan perhatian ialah succession planning.

Kadang kadang kita melihat succession secara terlalu mudah. Si A akan keluar, siapa akan ganti A?

Pada saya itu lebih dekat kepada replacement planning. Belum tentu succession planning.

Succession planning sepatutnya bermula jauh lebih awal. Kita kenal pasti bakat, bangunkan mereka, beri pendidikan yang sesuai, beri exposure, rotate melalui appointment yang mempunyai tujuan, nilai performance mereka, lihat kelemahan yang perlu diperbaiki dan secara berperingkat menyediakan beberapa orang untuk tanggungjawab yang lebih besar.

Bukan seorang chosen one.

Kita bina satu pool.

Dalam konteks profesionalisme ATM, Stevenson (2019) turut membincangkan kepentingan sistem kerjaya yang adil, peluang pendidikan dan latihan, pemilihan berdasarkan pencapaian serta career progression and succession planning pada pelbagai peringkat dan pangkat dalam organisasi.

Saya sangat bersetuju dengan idea ini.

Succession planning yang baik bukan bermula apabila sebuah kerusi hendak kosong.

Ia mungkin bermula lima atau sepuluh tahun sebelum kerusi itu kosong.

Kalau kita hanya mencari pengganti apabila vacancy sudah muncul, mungkin kita sebenarnya tidak sedang mengurus succession. Kita cuma sedang mencari seseorang untuk mengisi kerusi.

Career Staff Sebenarnya Memegang Amanah yang Sangat Besar

Sebab itu saya selalu melihat mereka yang mengurus kerjaya anggota sebagai memegang tanggungjawab yang jauh lebih besar daripada sekadar mengeluarkan posting order.

Satu keputusan posting mungkin kelihatan kecil di atas kertas.

Tetapi bagi seseorang pegawai, keputusan itu mungkin menentukan lima tahun perjalanan hidupnya.

Ia boleh menentukan sama ada kepakarannya berkembang atau mati. Sama ada dia mendapat exposure yang diperlukan untuk appointment berikutnya. Sama ada dia masih melihat masa depan dalam organisasi atau mula menghitung tahun untuk bersara.

Career management therefore is not simply administration.

It is stewardship of human potential.

Sebab itu career staff juga perlu mempunyai keberanian untuk merancang kerjaya mereka yang tidak berada dalam fast track. Jangan hanya beri perhatian kepada mereka yang kita jangka akan pergi jauh.

Organisasi masih memerlukan Major dan Lieutenant Colonel yang bagus walaupun mereka tidak akan menjadi General.

Mereka masih mempunyai ilmu.

Mereka masih mempunyai pengalaman.

Dan mereka masih memakai uniform.

Malah mungkin kumpulan inilah yang mempunyai sesuatu yang sangat mahal untuk dibina, iaitu pengalaman selama 15, 20 atau 25 tahun.

Jangan Bina Hanya Seorang Pengganti, Bina Pilihan

Saya juga berpendapat ada satu bahaya apabila talent management terlalu awal menentukan siapa "orang yang akan pergi jauh".

Manusia berubah.

Pegawai yang kelihatan outstanding pada umur 30 tahun tidak semestinya menjadi pemimpin terbaik pada umur 50 tahun. Sebaliknya, seseorang yang mungkin tidak begitu menyerlah pada awal kerjayanya boleh berkembang dengan luar biasa apabila mendapat mentor, exposure dan appointment yang sesuai.

Sebab itu saya lebih selesa dengan konsep talent pool berbanding chosen person.

Berikan beberapa orang peluang untuk berkembang. Berikan mereka pengalaman yang berbeza. Kemudian biarkan performance, character, competence dan keperluan organisasi menentukan siapa yang paling sesuai apabila masanya tiba.

Ini juga membantu mengurangkan satu perkara yang sangat berbahaya dalam organisasi, iaitu persepsi bahawa seseorang sudah "dipilih" terlalu awal dan perjalanan selepas itu sekadar memenuhi syarat sebelum dia sampai ke kerusi yang telah disediakan.

Sama ada persepsi itu benar atau tidak, ia boleh merosakkan kepercayaan kepada sistem.

Akhirnya, Kita Sedang Mengurus Manusia

Selepas hampir 30 tahun memakai uniform, saya bertemu ramai pegawai yang hebat. Ada yang akhirnya sampai ke pangkat yang tinggi. Ada yang tidak. Ada yang sangat brilliant tetapi perjalanan kerjayanya tidak menjadi seperti yang diharapkan. Ada juga yang mungkin pada awalnya biasa biasa sahaja, tetapi apabila diberikan peluang yang betul, mereka berkembang menjadi pemimpin yang sangat baik.

Sebab itu saya semakin kurang percaya bahawa kita boleh menilai nilai seseorang hanya melalui pangkat terakhirnya.

Pangkat penting dalam organisasi tentera. Hierarchy penting. Command structure penting. Saya tidak mempertikaikan semua itu.

Tetapi talent management bertanya persoalan yang sedikit berbeza.

Adakah kita telah mendapatkan yang terbaik daripada setiap orang yang kita miliki?

Mungkin seseorang tidak sesuai menjadi CO. Fine. Cari tempat di mana dia boleh menjadi sangat berguna.

Mungkin seseorang tidak terpilih ke MTAT. Itu juga bukan penghujung kepada intellectual dan professional development beliau.

Mungkin seseorang tidak akan memakai pangkat Kolonel. Tetapi itu tidak bermaksud baki sepuluh tahun perkhidmatannya perlu menjadi sekadar menunggu pencen.

Dan mungkin seseorang memang sangat cemerlang dan berpotensi pergi jauh. Kalau begitu, bangunkan dia dengan betul. Jangan hanya berikan pangkat. Berikan pengalaman, cabaran, exposure dan tanggungjawab yang benar benar menyediakan dia untuk memimpin organisasi pada masa hadapan.

Not everyone can become a General. But everyone deserves a meaningful career.

Bagi saya, itulah cabaran sebenar pengurusan kerjaya.

Bukan sekadar menentukan siapa naik pangkat.

Tetapi memastikan manusia yang telah kita rekrut, latih dan bentuk selama berpuluh tahun terus mempunyai nilai, terus berkembang dan terus merasakan bahawa pengalaman mereka masih diperlukan sehingga hari terakhir mereka memakai uniform.

Kerana akhirnya, aset paling mahal sesebuah angkatan tentera mungkin bukan platform, senjata atau teknologi.

Ia adalah manusia yang mengambil masa puluhan tahun untuk kita bina.

Dan sesuatu yang mengambil masa begitu lama untuk dibina, sayang sekali kalau kita tidak menggunakannya dengan sebaik baiknya.

Rujukan

Husin, K. A., Shahiri, H., Abdullah Al-Hadi, A., & Mokhtar, A. (2021). Pengaruh pusingan kerja terhadap perkembangan kerjaya. Jurnal Ekonomi Malaysia, 55(3), 113–124. https://doi.org/10.17576/JEM-2021-5503-08

Kementerian Pertahanan Malaysia. (2026). Jawapan Dewan Rakyat berkaitan kenaikan pangkat pegawai Angkatan Tentera Malaysia. Parlimen Malaysia.

Mohamed, H. A. B., Mohd Som, H., Sahol Hamid, N., & Mohamad, M. H. (2023). Perceived career planning and job satisfaction in Malaysian Armed Forces: The role of career development as a mediator. International Journal of Management Studies, 30(2), 337–372. https://doi.org/10.32890/ijms2023.30.2.6

Stevenson, W. (2019). Upholding professionalism and caring for our defence and military personnel. The Journal of Defence and Security, 11(2). Malaysian Institute of Defence and Security (MiDAS).

Tentera Darat Malaysia. (2023). Sorotan Darat, 2(83). Tentera Darat Malaysia.

Zainol, N. A. M., Mohamed, H. A. B., & Yasin, R. (2024). Leadership development program: The correlation between training design and training transfer based on the Islamic perspective. International Journal of Management Studies, 31(1), 113–136. https://doi.org/10.32890/ijms2024.31.1.5

How Would You Know If a Message Really Came From God?

This Is Not About Promoting Any Religion

This is not an article to promote any particular religion. I am not trying to tell anyone what they should believe, change anyone's faith, or decide the answer for them. I am simply interested in one question that I think almost everyone can understand, whether they are religious, not religious, or somewhere in between. If someone says, "This message comes from God," how would we know?

It sounds like a simple question, but once I really think about it, it becomes quite interesting. Many of us grow up with certain beliefs because of our parents, family, community or culture. That is completely normal. We learn language the same way. We learn food, traditions and values from the people around us. But when it comes to something as big as God, life, death and what might happen after death, I think it deserves a little more thinking.

The question is not simply, "What did I grow up believing?" The more interesting question is, "How would I test whether a claim about God is actually true?"

Too Many Claims Does Not Mean Truth Is Impossible

Sometimes people say there are simply too many religions and beliefs in the world, so finding the truth is impossible. But I do not think that really follows.

Imagine the police are investigating a crime and there are ten suspects. Would they close the case and say, "Too many suspects. We can never know what happened"? Of course not. They investigate. They check the evidence. They compare the stories. They look at the time, place, witnesses and other information. Some possibilities become weak. Others become stronger. Eventually, they may arrive at the best explanation.

I think the same basic logic can be used for big questions about religion. The fact that many people make different claims does not mean all claims are equally true, and it does not mean truth cannot be investigated. It simply means there is some homework to do.

Sometimes we use confusion as an excuse not to investigate. "There are too many opinions, so forget it." But confusion itself is not evidence. Having many possible answers does not mean there is no correct answer.

Does It Even Claim to Come From God?

Before asking whether a message really came from God, I think there is an obvious first question. Does the message actually claim divine authority in the first place?

This may sound too simple, but it matters. There is a difference between a book that gives wisdom about life and a book that claims, "This message is from the Creator." Those are two very different claims.

Imagine I write a book tonight called The Ultimate Secret of the Universe. Nice title, right? I fill it with good advice about family, kindness, money, exercise and drinking enough water. Maybe millions of people love it. Maybe it even changes lives.

That still does not make it a message from God.

Before I investigate whether something is divine, I would first want to know what kind of claim it is actually making. Is it philosophy, human wisdom, spiritual reflection, or something that clearly presents itself as revelation from God? That is only the starting point, though.

Saying "God Told Me" Is Easy

Now we reach the obvious problem. Anyone can claim something came from God.

I can write another book tomorrow and put on the first page, "This book was revealed directly by God." Done. But obviously, writing those words proves nothing.

This is why I think a claim and evidence must be separated. A person today could write a book with no obvious contradictions, store millions of copies online and preserve it perfectly using modern technology. That still would not prove that the book came from God.

So claiming divine origin is one thing. Proving it is another thing. The bigger the claim, the more reasonable it is to ask for evidence.

If someone tells me, "I had nasi lemak for breakfast," I probably do not need CCTV footage. If someone tells me, "The Creator of the entire universe personally sent this message for humanity," okay, now I have a few questions. Quite a lot of questions, actually.

Does the Message Contradict Itself?

One reasonable test is consistency.

Suppose a text clearly teaches something in one place and later teaches the exact opposite under the same conditions. I would naturally want to ask why.

But I also think we need to be fair. Not every apparent difference is a contradiction. Sometimes two statements are discussing different situations. Sometimes language has more than one meaning. Sometimes context changes the meaning completely.

So I do not think it is reasonable to find two sentences, shout "Contradiction!" and go home. A real contradiction means two claims cannot both be true at the same time and in the same sense.

For me, this distinction matters. A text having no contradiction does not automatically prove it came from God. I could probably write a ten-page story today without contradicting myself. That would not make me a prophet.

But serious and unresolved contradictions would create a problem for something claiming perfect divine knowledge. That seems like a fair standard.

What About the World Around Us?

There is another kind of consistency worth thinking about.

A message can be internally consistent, meaning it does not contradict itself. But what happens if it makes clear factual claims about the world that are demonstrably wrong?

Here is a simple example. Imagine the company that designed your phone produces an official manual saying, "This phone has no battery." You open the phone settings. Battery: 82%. Something has gone wrong.

If someone created something, I would expect that person to understand what they created. In the same way, if a message really came from the Creator of the universe, it would be strange for that message to confidently describe the Creator's own universe in a completely false way.

But I also think we need to be careful here. Ancient language can be poetic. Metaphors exist. Scientific theories can change. People can also force modern science into old texts and claim every sentence predicts some new discovery. That is not good reasoning either.

The better question is simple. Does the text make clear factual claims that seriously conflict with well established reality?

Did the Original Message Survive?

Here is another question that I think people sometimes forget.

Even if God really sent a message long ago, how do we know the version we have today is the same message?

Imagine a teacher writes ten important instructions on a piece of paper. The paper is copied by students. Then copied again. Then again. Hundreds of years pass. Some words are added, removed or changed.

Eventually we might still have something valuable. But can we confidently say every sentence is exactly what the teacher originally wrote? That becomes a historical question.

For me, preservation matters because once an original message becomes mixed with later human changes, it becomes harder to know which parts came from the original source and which parts came from later editors or communities.

So if I am seriously investigating an ancient religious message, I would want to ask questions such as: Who recorded it? How early was it recorded? Are there early copies? How was it transmitted? Were there multiple versions? Can changes be identified? Do we know where the text came from?

These are not insulting questions. They are normal historical questions. In fact, we ask the same type of questions when studying ancient political speeches, historical documents or old literature.

Would Divine Guidance Be Impossible to Find?

Another question I find interesting is this. If God intended to guide humanity, especially if humans were expected to respond to that guidance, would the message be almost impossible for humanity to discover?

Imagine the one true message from God exists, but only three people living deep inside an unknown forest have access to it. Meanwhile, billions of people live and die without even hearing about it. That would raise an obvious question about accessibility.

This does not mean truth must always be easy. Mathematics can be difficult. Science can be difficult. Understanding history can be difficult. Searching for truth may require serious effort.

But there is still a difference between something being difficult and something being practically impossible to find. If a message is meant for humanity, I think it is reasonable to ask whether humanity has a fair opportunity to encounter and examine it.

Feelings Are Real, But Are They Proof?

People sometimes explain religious belief through personal experiences. "I felt something." "I had a dream." "I felt peace." "I felt that God was speaking to me."

These experiences may be deeply meaningful to the person who experiences them. I do not think we should automatically laugh at them or pretend emotions have no value.

But there is a problem if we try to use personal feelings as universal proof. People from completely different beliefs can all report powerful spiritual experiences. Two people can have opposite beliefs and both say, "I feel strongly that I am right." Both feelings cannot prove two contradictory claims.

So my view is simple. A personal experience may be meaningful for the person who experienced it, but if we are trying to establish a claim for everybody else, we should look for evidence that others can also examine.

Otherwise the conversation becomes very short. "How do you know?" "I feel it." "Okay." Conversation finished.

What Evidence Goes Beyond Human Ability?

Now the question becomes more interesting.

Anyone can claim revelation. Humans can write books. Humans can create beautiful philosophy. Humans can preserve information. Humans can build communities around ideas.

So what would make a divine claim different? I think we should ask whether there is something about the evidence that goes beyond what an ordinary human being could reasonably produce, predict or construct.

This does not mean we must immediately accept every story about miracles. Stories themselves must also be investigated.

Instead, I would ask broader questions. What evidence does the message offer for itself? Are there historical claims that can be checked? Does it make unusual predictions? Is there something about its content, transmission or origin that requires explanation? Is the evidence public, or does everything depend on trusting one person's private story?

Most importantly, could an intelligent human being realistically produce the same thing? These questions do not automatically give us an answer. But they help separate extraordinary claims from ordinary ones.

Be Careful With Your Own Bias

Here is where things become uncomfortable.

It is very easy to investigate someone else's beliefs. We become Sherlock Holmes. "Where is your evidence?" "What is your source?" "Are you sure?" "What about this contradiction?" Very impressive.

Then someone asks the same questions about our own beliefs. Suddenly we become defence lawyers. "Well... you have to understand the context."

Maybe the context really does matter. But the important thing is to use the same standard fairly. If an argument sounds weak when someone else uses it, it should not suddenly become strong when it supports our own beliefs.

This is probably one of the hardest parts of searching for truth. Our brain does not always ask, "What is true?" Sometimes it asks, "How can I defend what I already believe?" Those are not the same question.

What If You Were Born Somewhere Else?

Here is a simple thought experiment I sometimes find useful.

Imagine you were born in another country, into another family, speaking another language and surrounded by a completely different religious culture. What would you probably believe today?

That question does not prove your current belief is false. Not at all. Truth does not become false simply because we learned it from our parents.

But the question should make us a little more humble. If our birthplace strongly influences what we believe, then perhaps we should examine our beliefs rather than assuming we would obviously have discovered them independently.

It is worth asking ourselves: Do I believe this because I investigated it, or mainly because this is what everyone around me believes? Maybe the answer is both. That is okay too. The important thing is being honest about it.

Think Like an Investigator

For me, perhaps the best attitude is to stop thinking like a supporter for a while and think like an investigator.

A supporter begins with the conclusion. "My side is correct. Now let me collect arguments." An investigator starts differently. "I want to know what is actually true."

That means sometimes accepting uncomfortable evidence. It means being willing to say, "I used to think this was a strong argument. Actually, it is not."

It can also mean the opposite. "I used to dismiss this idea. But after looking at the evidence, maybe I dismissed it too quickly."

That is not weakness. That is intellectual honesty. The goal should not be to win an argument online. The goal should be to understand what is true.

Do the Research Yourself

Maybe there really is a message from God. Maybe there is not. I am not trying to decide that question for anyone through this article.

But if the question matters, I think it deserves more than a few TikTok videos, an angry debate on social media, something somebody forwarded on WhatsApp at 2 a.m., or simply saying, "This is what my family has always believed."

Read. Compare. Check original sources where possible. Study history. Listen to people who believe, but also listen to serious critics. When someone makes an argument, check whether the evidence actually supports it. Do not accept something simply because you like the conclusion, and do not reject something simply because the conclusion makes you uncomfortable.

Most importantly, be sincere.

Do not begin your research by deciding what answer you must reach. Begin with the question you genuinely want answered. Follow the evidence as fairly as you can. Ask difficult questions, including difficult questions about your own beliefs.

At the end of the day, nobody can do that search for you.

A PhD Is Not Just About Reading More Papers: How We Actually Build Research Skills

 

Nobody Really Teaches Us How to Become a Researcher

When we start a PhD, the journey looks quite simple from the outside. Choose a topic, read, collect data, write the thesis, defend it, then graduate. Once we are inside the system, we realise it is not that straightforward.

There is no proper weekly syllabus telling us what to do next. We may have a supervisor, university guidelines, research milestones and postgraduate workshops, but much of the journey still depends on us.

At the same time, the familiar questions keep coming. “Dah Chapter berapa?” “Data dah collect?” “Bila nak viva?” “Paper dah publish?”

Sometimes I think Malaysian PhD students deserve another qualification just for answering these questions politely.

But the real purpose of a PhD is not only to complete a thesis. I also need to become better at doing research. That is a different challenge altogether.

Reading Is Important, but Research Skills Come From Doing

One lesson I keep coming back to is this. I cannot learn research only by reading about research.

Of course, reading is essential. I need to understand the literature, theory, methods and debates in my field. But eventually, I have to stop highlighting papers and actually do something.

It is like learning to make roti canai. I can watch 50 videos, read about the technique and understand the ingredients, but eventually my hand still has to touch the dough.

The same applies to research.

If I plan to conduct interviews, I should practise interviewing someone. If I am doing qualitative analysis, I should try coding a short transcript. If I plan to use statistics, I should work with a small dataset first.

Research becomes clearer when I start using the tools, not only reading about them.

Start Small Before Going Big

PhD students often want everything to look “PhD standard” from the beginning. The research question must be perfect. The conceptual framework must look impressive. The questionnaire must be complete. Chapter 1 must sound like it belongs in a journal.

Sometimes the conceptual framework has so many boxes and arrows that I need another framework just to understand the framework.

I have learned that the first version does not have to be impressive. It only needs to teach me something.

If I need 30 interviews, I can first practise with one person. If I need hundreds of survey responses, I can test the questions with a small group. If I need to present my research to a panel, I can first explain it to a friend.

A small attempt gives me room to make mistakes while the mistakes are still cheap.

It is much better to discover that an interview question is confusing after talking to one person than after completing 25 interviews.

It Is Fine to Say “I Don’t Know”

This is probably one of the hardest adjustments in a PhD.

For most of our education, being a good student means knowing the correct answer. Exams reward us for knowing. Assignments reward us for knowing. Good grades tell us that we know enough.

Then we enter a PhD, where the whole point is to investigate something because the answer is not completely clear.

That can feel strange.

Sometimes during a supervisor meeting, I may understand about 60 per cent of the discussion, but my face is showing 97 per cent confidence.

I think many PhD students know that feeling.

There is nothing wrong with saying, “I don’t understand this yet,” or “Can you explain what you mean?” It is also fine to admit, “I tried this, but it did not work.”

Research is not about pretending to know everything. It is about becoming comfortable with what I do not know and then doing something about it.

Difficult Problems Are Part of the Training

Another habit I have noticed is how easy it is to become “busy” when the real work becomes difficult.

I may be struggling with methodology. Suddenly, organising my Mendeley folders feels very important. Then I check email. Then I rename some files. Maybe I update the Gantt chart.

By the end of the day, I have done many things.

Except solve the original problem.

The difficult part of research is often where the learning happens.

If my analysis does not make sense, I need to understand why. If my theory does not fit properly, I need to examine it. If my research question is too broad, I need to work on it.

Sometimes progress means staying with one uncomfortable problem instead of escaping to five easier tasks.

That is not always fun, but it is often where research skills grow.

Working Fast Is Not the Same as Working Well

There is always pressure in a PhD. We have deadlines, proposal defence, progress reports, publication requirements, supervisor comments and university timelines.

So naturally, we want to move quickly.

But research contains many small details, and small mistakes can become expensive later.

One wrong variable. One badly written interview question. One missing citation. One wrong version of a dataset.

Then, two months later, I am staring at the screen thinking, “Eh, why is this result like this?”

Working carefully does not mean becoming a perfectionist.

I do not need to spend three days polishing one paragraph because I am afraid to move on. It simply means giving proper attention to the work in front of me.

When I collect data, I should collect it properly. When I analyse, I should understand what I am doing. When I cite something, I should make sure the source really supports what I am saying.

Careful work moves forward. Perfectionism often keeps us standing in the same place.

My Brain Is Part of the Research Equipment

PhD students are usually very careful with their research materials.

We back up the thesis. We save copies in Google Drive. We keep several versions of important files. Some of us probably have “Chapter 4 Final”, “Chapter 4 Final New”, and “Chapter 4 Final Really Final” sitting in the same folder.

But sometimes we forget to take care of the most important research equipment we have.

Our brain.

It is difficult to solve complicated research problems when I am constantly tired, distracted and mentally overloaded.

Rest is not separate from research. Thinking is part of research too.

Sometimes the answer to a problem does not appear while I am staring at Microsoft Word. It may come while I am walking around campus, driving home, sitting quietly after a meeting or having a teh tarik.

The brain sometimes needs space.

Life Outside the PhD Still Matters

A PhD can slowly take over everything if I allow it.

There will always be another paper to read, another chapter to improve, another comment to answer and another deadline waiting.

But I still need sleep. I still need exercise. I still need family and friends. I still need conversations that have absolutely nothing to do with theoretical frameworks.

Having a life outside the PhD does not mean I am less serious.

In fact, I think it helps me stay useful as a researcher for longer.

Being permanently exhausted is not proof of dedication. Sometimes it is simply proof that something in the way I work needs to change.

Research Skills Grow Quietly

I used to think becoming a good researcher would happen at some major moment.

Maybe after publishing a paper. Maybe after finishing data collection. Maybe after passing the viva.

Now I think it happens much more quietly.

One better interview.

One clearer paragraph.

One research problem finally understood.

One mistake I know how to avoid next time.

One supervisor comment that suddenly makes sense.

One moment when I realise I can explain my research without looking at my slides.

The improvement is often small, but over time it adds up.

The PhD Is Also About Who I Become

The thesis is important. Of course it is.

But the final thesis is not the only thing produced by a PhD.

The process is also supposed to produce a better researcher.

Someone who can ask better questions. Someone who can investigate carefully, analyse evidence, explain ideas clearly and stay calm when the answer is not obvious.

Someone who can make mistakes, learn and try again.

So perhaps I do not need to keep asking myself, “Am I good enough to be a PhD researcher?”

A better question may be:

“Am I becoming a slightly better researcher than I was six months ago?”

If the answer is yes, even a little, then I think the PhD is already doing part of its job.

What Is Truth? My Thoughts After Watching Firas Zahabi on Blogging Theology Youtube Channel

 

A Simple Question That Is Actually Not So Simple

We use the word “truth” almost every day. We say things like, “This is true,” “That is fake news,” “Science has proven it,” “I saw it on TikTok,” “Someone forwarded it in WhatsApp,” or “The doctor said so.” But one thing I realised after watching this long discussion between Firas Zahabi and Paul Williams from Blogging Theology is that we rarely stop and ask a more basic question, how do we actually know that something is true? At first, I expected the video to be very heavy because once people start talking about philosophy, logic, epistemology, consciousness and all that, it can easily become difficult to follow. Surprisingly, Zahabi explains many of his ideas using very simple examples, things like a square, a flamingo, frogs, the sun, a robot, pain, consciousness and finally the Qur’an. As the discussion goes on, you begin to realise that he is not only asking whether something is true or false. He is asking something much deeper, what kind of knowledge do we have, how certain are we, and what makes us trust one thing more than another?

This question is very relevant today. We live in a time where information comes non-stop. TikTok, YouTube, Facebook, X, WhatsApp, podcasts, AI, politicians, doctors, researchers, influencers and religious speakers are all giving us information. Even our family WhatsApp groups can become like mini newsrooms. The problem is that everybody sounds confident. But confidence is not the same as truth. Someone can speak loudly, use complicated words and still be completely wrong. That is probably the first important lesson I took from this discussion.

The Square Circle, Some Things Are Impossible Even Before We Check

One of the first examples Zahabi gives is quite funny. He tells Paul that he has drawn a square circle on the other side of his hand. Not a square next to a circle, but one single shape that is fully square and fully circle at the same time. Paul immediately says that is impossible, even though he has not seen the drawing. Why? Because once you understand what a square is and what a circle is, the idea itself contradicts itself. A square has straight sides and corners, while a circle does not. Zahabi also gives another example, a married bachelor. Again, we do not need to survey every bachelor in the world. The word bachelor already means an unmarried man, so “married bachelor” does not make sense. This is his way of introducing analytical truth and the law of non-contradiction.

This sounds like a very basic lesson, but honestly, it is useful in real life. Sometimes people argue about things that are not really disagreements at all, but confusion in the way words are used. If I say, “I love durian,” and you say, “I hate durian,” both statements can be true because we are talking about personal taste. But if someone says, “This shop is open now and this same shop is not open now,” then something is wrong unless he explains what he means. Simple logic helps us see when an argument is not clear. It also teaches us not to be impressed too quickly by complicated language. Sometimes a very fancy argument falls apart when you ask one simple question, does this even make sense?

The Flamingo, Some Things Can Only Be Known by Looking

Then Zahabi changes the example. He says, what if he tells Paul, “I drew a flamingo on my hand”? This time Paul cannot immediately say it is impossible. Maybe he did draw it, maybe he did not. There is nothing logically impossible about a flamingo drawing. The only way to know is to look. Zahabi uses this to show that some knowledge comes from observation. He then uses frogs as another example. Imagine scientists observe 1,000 frogs and every frog can swim. Can they now say, “All frogs can swim”? Maybe, but what if somewhere in a forest in Malaysia, Borneo or another part of the world there is one strange species nobody has studied yet? You can observe 10,000 frogs, then 100,000 frogs, and your confidence becomes stronger, but one unusual frog could still prove the general statement wrong. This is the basic idea of inductive reasoning, where we move from what we observe to a wider conclusion.

We use this kind of thinking every day. Your car started yesterday, so you expect it to start tomorrow. Your favourite mamak usually opens early, so you expect it to be open again tomorrow morning. The sun has risen every day of your life, so you expect it to rise tomorrow too. This is not mathematical certainty, but it is a very strong expectation based on repeated experience. Philosophers have discussed this for centuries, especially David Hume and the famous problem of induction. The basic question is simple, why should the future continue behaving like the past just because it has done so many times before?

Science Is Strong, But It Is Not the Same as Mathematics

This part really made me think. Zahabi describes science in a very provocative way. He says science depends on our expectation that the future will behave like the past. At first, that sounds like he is trying to weaken science, but I do not think that is the best way to understand his point. Science is not simply “belief” with no evidence. Science has experiments, measurements, statistics, testing, peer review, replication and correction. But his main point is still useful, scientific knowledge is not exactly the same kind of certainty as mathematics or logic.

In fact, one of the strengths of science is that it can correct itself. Sometimes people say, “Scientists changed their mind, so science cannot be trusted.” But think about it. Would you rather have scientists who refuse to change even when new evidence appears? Imagine your doctor saying, “I learned this treatment in 1995 and I refuse to read anything published after that.” Most of us would immediately look for another doctor. Good science changes when better evidence appears. That is not failure, that is improvement. This is especially important during difficult times, such as a health scare, a pandemic, financial crisis or family problem. When people are frightened, we want very certain answers. Then someone appears on YouTube or TikTok saying, “I know the real truth.” The confidence feels comforting. But sometimes the more responsible answer is simply, “Based on what we know now, this is the most likely explanation.”

History, WhatsApp and the Problem of “My Friend Said”

The discussion then moves into history. This part is also very relevant to us because historical knowledge works differently from laboratory science. We cannot replay the past. We cannot bring Napoleon back, repeat the assassination of JFK or travel 2,000 years into the past with a camera. Historians have to work with documents, eyewitness reports, physical evidence, archaeology, letters and surviving records. Zahabi uses examples like JFK and 9/11 to show how people can look at the same event and still disagree about exactly what happened.

I think Zahabi sometimes goes too far when he makes historical knowledge sound almost useless. History is not simply gossip. Professional historians have proper methods for checking sources, comparing documents and deciding which evidence is stronger. But his main warning is still important, just because many people repeat a story does not make it true. Malaysians know this very well. We have all seen WhatsApp messages beginning with something like, “Please share, my cousin’s friend works in a ministry…” Five minutes later the message is everywhere, and suddenly people treat it like official news. Today the problem is even worse because we now have deepfakes, AI images, cloned voices and fake screenshots. So perhaps one habit we really need today is to ask, where did this information actually come from?

Paul 2.0, This Is Where the Discussion Becomes Very Modern

One of my favourite parts of the whole conversation is when Zahabi introduces a robot called Paul 2.0. Imagine a robot watching the real Paul every day. Paul wakes up and drinks coffee, so the robot learns, “Morning means coffee.” When it rains, Paul takes an umbrella, so the robot learns, “Rain means umbrella.” Over time, Paul 2.0 becomes extremely good at copying Paul’s behaviour. Then Zahabi makes the example more extreme. Imagine a tiny machine entering Paul’s brain and recording everything, neurons firing, blood flow, physical reactions and every measurable process. Paul 2.0 receives all this information. But Zahabi asks a very interesting question, does the robot know what it feels like to be Paul?

The robot may know that Paul’s brain changes when he drinks coffee, but does it actually taste the coffee? It may know which part of the brain becomes active when Paul feels sad, but does it experience sadness? It may measure pain signals, but does it actually feel pain? Zahabi argues that information about consciousness is not necessarily the same as experiencing consciousness. This discussion feels even more relevant now because of AI. A chatbot can say, “I understand how painful that must be.” Future robots may laugh, write poetry and respond to emotions perfectly. But does behaving like a conscious being prove that it really has an inner experience? Philosophers still debate this because first-person experience is different from simply observing a person from the outside.

Pain, Feelings and One Very Useful Lesson for Daily Life

From there, Zahabi moves into the idea of direct experience. Imagine walking barefoot at home in the dark and suddenly your small toe hits the leg of the sofa. At that moment, do you need a scientist to prove that you are in pain? Of course not. You know you are in pain because you experience it directly. The same goes for sadness, fear, loneliness and happiness. Nobody needs to mathematically prove your feeling to you. But this part gave me another useful lesson, our experience and our interpretation are not the same thing.

For example, someone at work walks past you without saying hello. You feel hurt. That feeling is real. Then your mind immediately says, “She ignored me because she does not like me.” Now you have moved from experience to interpretation. Maybe she really is upset with you, but maybe she did not see you, maybe she was worried about something, maybe she had a terrible morning. This sounds simple, but honestly, many of our problems come from treating an interpretation like a proven fact. The same thing can happen with health. A doctor orders another test, and your mind immediately says, “It must be something serious.” But what do you actually know? You know another test was ordered. Everything after that may be fear filling in the blanks. This is where philosophy suddenly becomes very practical. It can help us separate what happened, what we feel, and what we are assuming.

Fitrah, The Point Where Zahabi Brings Everything Back to Islam

This is where Zahabi brings in the Islamic idea of fitrah, the natural disposition with which human beings are created. The Qur’an speaks about fitrah in Surah al-Rum 30:30. Zahabi’s argument is that we do not begin life like totally empty machines. Human beings already have awareness, consciousness and an ability to recognise and experience reality. He connects this to our awareness of God. In his view, the Qur’an is not only giving information to someone who knows absolutely nothing. It is also acting as a reminder.

I find this idea quite beautiful. The Qur’an often tells us to look, think, reflect and notice. Look at the world. Look at nature. Look at yourself. Look at how life works. Surah adh-Dhariyat 51:20 to 21 points to signs on the earth and also within ourselves. That fits Zahabi’s whole argument. The search for truth does not only go outward, into laboratories, telescopes and books. It also goes inward. What am I? Why am I conscious? Why can I reason? Why do I care about truth at all? Why do human beings search for meaning? These are questions that science can study from certain angles, but they also lead into philosophy and religion.

Does This Mean We Should Stop Using Logic and Science? No

This part is very important because Zahabi can easily be misunderstood. He is not telling Muslims to reject science, philosophy or reason. In fact, his whole discussion uses Aristotle, Hume, Locke, Berkeley, Kant, al-Ghazali, mathematics, logic, science and thought experiments. His point is that human reason is powerful but limited. Very intelligent people can still disagree. Scientists disagree. Historians disagree. Religious scholars disagree. Academics disagree. That does not mean truth does not exist. It simply means intelligence does not make anyone perfect.

This is especially relevant now because Google and AI can make us feel intelligent very quickly. Five minutes on Google and suddenly we are doctors. Three YouTube videos and we become historians. One TikTok thread and we become experts in international politics. We need confidence, but we also need humility. Sometimes the smartest thing we can say is, “I am not sure, let me check.” Near the end of the discussion, Zahabi himself says Muslims should not reject logic, reason or science and that Muslims need to raise their level of understanding. That is actually one of the strongest parts of his message.

Gravity, Medicine and Allah, Do We Really Have to Choose One?

Zahabi also talks about gravity and the laws of nature. This section can sound strange if taken too literally. His philosophical point is that humans observe regular patterns and then give those patterns names. But this should not be misunderstood as saying gravity is fake or scientific explanations are useless. If you jump from the third floor, please do not tell the hospital that gravity is only a philosophical concept.

A better way to understand this is that science explains how things normally happen, while religion asks deeper questions about ultimate dependence and meaning. If a doctor gives you antibiotics and you recover, you can say, “The medicine helped me,” while still believing, “Allah allowed me to recover.” Those two statements do not necessarily cancel each other. One explains the mechanism, the other speaks about ultimate dependence. Zahabi connects this discussion to al-Ghazali and the old philosophical debate about causation. Al-Ghazali famously questioned whether repeatedly observing one thing followed by another proves that the connection between them is absolutely necessary.

Why This Matters Most When Life Is Hard

For me, this is where the whole discussion becomes much more than philosophy. When life is going well, we rarely think deeply about certainty. But when something goes wrong, everything changes. A medical test comes back abnormal. Someone you love becomes sick. You lose your job. Your child struggles. A marriage becomes difficult. Money gets tight. Someone betrays you. Suddenly your mind wants an answer immediately. Why did this happen? What will happen next? Is everything going to be okay?

Sometimes we simply do not know yet. And maybe one thing we need to learn is how to live honestly with that. There are things we know. There are things we strongly expect. There are things we suspect. There are things we fear. There are things we hope for. And there are things we simply do not know. Those are not the same categories. If we mix them together, anxiety can become much worse. We start turning possibilities into facts. “The doctor wants another scan, so it must be something terrible.” “My boss wants to see me, so I must be getting fired.” “My child is quiet today, so something bad must have happened.” Sometimes we need to stop and say, what do I actually know right now? That one question can bring a lot of calm.

We Have More Information Than Ever, But Are We Wiser?

This part really stayed with me after the video. A school student in Malaysia with one smartphone can access books, lectures, maps, scientific papers, documentaries and information that kings and scholars of the past could never imagine having so easily. Yet somehow, we are still confused. Sometimes we may even be more confused. The problem today is no longer simply, “Where can I find information?” The bigger problem is, “Which information deserves my trust?”

That is why “What is truth?” is not just an old philosophy question. It is a very modern question. When AI gives you an answer, ask how reliable the source is. When a viral video appears, ask where it came from. When a preacher makes a strong claim, ask what evidence supports it. When someone gives a statistic, ask how it was measured. When somebody tells you a historical story, ask what sources exist. And when your own mind says, “My life is finished, nothing will ever improve,” ask whether that is really a fact or simply how you feel at that moment.

The Part I Like Most, Learn to Ask “How Do I Know?”

The biggest value of Zahabi’s discussion, for me, is not any single argument about science, philosophy, AI or even theology. It is the habit behind the whole discussion. Stop and examine how you know what you think you know. That habit makes us harder to manipulate. It can make us better students, better researchers, better Muslims, better parents and hopefully less annoying in WhatsApp groups.

It can also change the way we read the Qur’an. Instead of only asking, “How many pages did I read today?” maybe sometimes we should ask, “What is this verse asking me to notice?” Is it asking me to look at nature? To think about myself? To challenge my ego? To question my assumptions? To recognise my dependence on Allah? Zahabi says near the end that knowledge begins with direct experience and that the Qur’an should not be approached like a robot processing information mechanically. I may not agree with every single philosophical claim he makes, and I think some of his statements about history, gravity or science can be debated, but that actually makes the conversation more interesting. The point is not to repeat Zahabi. The point is to think with him, and sometimes also to question him.

So, What Is Truth?

After more than two hours of discussion, Zahabi does not really give a simple dictionary answer. Instead, he takes us on a journey. We begin with logical truths, things that cannot contradict themselves. Then we move to observation and induction. From there we get science. From surviving evidence we build history. Then we reach consciousness and realise that even after studying everything outside us, there is still the strange fact that we are here experiencing all of it. From consciousness, Zahabi moves to fitrah, and from fitrah he brings the discussion back to Allah and the Qur’an.

Maybe the easiest way to understand the whole conversation is like this. Logic helps us recognise contradiction. Observation helps us understand the world. Science helps us discover patterns. History helps us reconstruct the past. Reason helps us connect ideas. Consciousness reminds us that we are more than data-processing machines. And for Zahabi, fitrah is the deepest human starting point from which the signs of Allah become recognisable.

That is why I think this discussion is worth watching. Not because Firas Zahabi has solved every problem in philosophy, he has not. But because he leaves us with one very useful question, “How do I know?” In today’s world, that question is incredibly valuable. Before believing, before forwarding, before accusing, before panicking, before arguing and before saying, “This is definitely true,” ask yourself, what do I actually know? What am I assuming? What am I only feeling? What evidence do I have? What would make me change my mind? Maybe becoming wiser does not begin by collecting more answers. Maybe it begins by learning to ask better questions.

If this discussion sounds interesting to you, I really recommend watching the full conversation yourself. It is long, but there are many ideas that are difficult to capture completely in one article, and you may take away something different from it. Watch the video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-0PDmGeMxg&list=WL&index=25