On January 23rd 2018 in an office overlooking George Square in Edinburgh, three professors agreed that I ought to have a PhD for my work recreating historical swordsmanship from historical sources.
“How on earth did that happen?” you may very well ask.
What happened was this:
After Veni Vadi Vici came out, my dad read it and exclaimed in some surprise “your work is actually quite academic!”
Yes dad, there’s a modicum of research required.
He continued “You should think about seeing if Edinburgh University will give you a PhD for it”.
I looked into it, and sure enough Edinburgh does occasionally grant a “PhD by Research Publication” for work done outside the University. The conditions of the degree include having at least a 2.1 honours degree from the University, which I got in 1996 in English Literature.
I thought about what to submit for the degree, and as this was 2015, sent in The Medieval Dagger, The Duellist’s Companion, and Veni Vadi Vici. (Medieval Longsword, Swordfighting, and Advanced Longsword hadn’t come out yet). These three books were looked at by the committee that decides such things, and I was permitted to apply. This involved writing a 20 thousand word “Critical Review of the Submitted Works”, and an Abstract. And handing over a sizable chunk of cash (more than my armet, much less than my cuirass). Not speaking fluent academese, I asked my friend Dr. Merja Polvinen for help with the Critical Review; she shredded my first draft, explained what the examiners would be looking for, and I duly wrote a much better second draft.
I submitted these to the examining process, and an internal examiner was found, Prof Greg Walker. It took the University a while to find an external examiner who they felt would be qualified to examine me (it’s something of a niche!), but happened upon Prof. Jeffrey Forgeng, well known in swordsmanship circles for his many excellent published translations (such as Meyer, I.33, and others). The exam was set for Thanksgiving Thursday, November 28th 2015.
I showed up not knowing quite what to expect; there was a non-examining chair (Dr Bob Irvine), the internal examiner Greg Walker, a couple of additional observers (mostly because this is such an unusual degree), and Prof Forgeng on a screen, coming in by Skype.
It did not go well. Our initial discussion of the Dagger book and Duellist's went ok, but Jeffrey tore into Veni Vadi Vici with some vigour, pointing out error after error. It was blindingly obvious that I was about to fail, so I tried to salvage something useful out of the rather expensive and time consuming process and decided on the spot to create a second, corrected, edition, and asked for as much critical feedback as the time would allow for me to use to improve the book for my readers. There was a LOT of feedback.
I left the room so they could deliberate. When I was invited back in, to my great surprise they didn’t fail me outright. Instead, they invited me to make the major corrections and resubmit within two years, and they would then re-examine. (This is actually a not uncommon result for a viva exam.) Jeffrey also kindly volunteered to provide some feedback on the work in progress. So I duly spent a great deal of time rewriting the book from scratch, including an entire re-translation. Unfortunately, Jeffrey had to pull out of the process due to personal issues, and the University found another professor to act as the external examiner: Prof Alessandra Petrina of Padua University. She provide some suggestions in the early stages which materially improved the book, though of course she was seriously constricted by her obligation to remain an impartial examiner. However, many friends stepped up to the plate. Chief among them was Dr Sarah Carpenter, who was my Director of Studies during my original degree, and very kindly went through the penultimate draft of the book with a fine tooth comb. Tom Leoni went through Vadi’s text with me line by line, correcting errors and making suggestions. Rodolfo Tanara (swordmaker, of Malleus Martialis) and Giorgio Sparaccio also gave critical suggestions for difficult passages. Dr Jaakko Tahkokallio (who is in charge of the Special Collections at Helsinki University Library and can be seen cutting a leg of lamb wrapped in clothing material with a sword here) was very helpful in pointing out the un-academic bits of the introduction, and especially improving the section on pricing the manuscript.
In August 2017 I resubmitted the new book, titled The Art of Sword Fighting in Earnest, and the updated Critical Review, and the earliest date that we could all get in a room together (I thought this would be best done in person if possible) was this January. My personal goal for the exam (given that I couldn’t actually control the outcome) was to get as much editorial feedback as possible, to make the new book as good as possible. I had a list of questions for Prof Petrina, which she kindly answered, and we had a lively discussion on the practicalities of recreating the duelling arts. And they passed me.
The exam is not the final word; that rests with the examining committee of the College of Humanities and Social Sciences, but it is unusual for them to overturn the examiners’ decision. That is also out of my hands, so I’m not worried about it. In the eyes of these professors, my work is up to scratch, and that by itself is profoundly satisfying.
Still more so because by not getting it first time, I can be sure that the examining process actually means something. It’s not just a rubber stamp. I have no doubt they would have failed me if they felt the work didn’t meet the required standard.
I should also point out that there are many people working in this field who have done far more academic work than I have (multiple critical translations, for example), and don’t have a PhD. If that’s you, then you might want to look into the possibility of getting one in a similar way. Pass or fail, the process should produce a lot of useful feedback.
Anyone who has read my rants on certification and mastery could tell you that I firmly believe in transparency in qualifications. Just what exactly my (potential) doctorate means to you is entirely personal, but it should be based on as much information as possible. You are welcome to read the entire Critical Review and the Abstract, as well as the three books (when the new one comes out!), and make up your own mind. This is a little different to a normal PhD, which is usually awarded for a specific thesis that is created as part of a supervised process within the University.
The new book will be out sometime this year, and I will be releasing the complete translation for free (as before) at the same time. Anyone who has bought the first edition (Veni Vadi Vici) in any format will also be able to get the new book in pdf for free; you’re entitled to the corrected version, I think.
And before any of my colleagues point it out for me: I know perfectly well that you can’t parry with a diploma. Well, I could roll it up and use it like a bastoncello or a parrying dagger, but you get my point (ideally slap bang in the middle of your fencing mask). This degree is very specifically an endorsement of my written work, and says nothing whatever about my fencing skills!

Update: Letter from the University: “the College Postgraduate Studies Committee has now ratified the reports of your examiners under the PhD by Publication Examination Regulations. Regulation 23 (a) states that the thesis satisfies the requirements for the award of PhD and the degree ought accordingly to be awarded with no further changes.”

Huzzah!

Today, Finland celebrates its 100th anniversary of independence. They paid a terrible price for it, both in the civil war that followed the declaration, and in resisting the Soviet invasion during the Second World War. The Finnish conduct of the Winter War was an incredible effort of skill, heroism, and sheer sisu (guts, bottom, sheer stubborn refusal to quit). Finland was the only country that Stalin invaded that did not fall. My favourite book on the Winter War is A Frozen Hell by William Trotter. Every martial artist should read up on this, because the problem of an overwhelmingly strong and aggressive opponent is common to all arts.

But that price bought them, eventually, a stable prosperity and a culture of education, arts, and technology, to be proud of.

Finland was my home for many years; I've spent far more time in Finland that in any other country in my life, and I'm sad not to be there today. My mum was visiting over the weekend, and on my wife's suggestion, I got out my trumpet (for the first time in years), and we played Finlandia together.

It's my birthday today (November 30th, same as Sir Winston Churchill), and I thought it might be fun to spread the love a bit. I'll be turning 44 (so, nearly a grown-up) and I've set up a discount code that you can use for any and every product I have online; courses on Longsword, Dagger, Footwork, even how to Recreate Historical Swordsmanship from Historical Sources; ebooks such as Swordfighting, The Medieval Longsword, Advanced Longsword, and so on.

The magic code will give you 44% off anything and everything: GUYS44THBIRTHDAY

Just copy and paste it into the discount field on checkout. You can use it multiple times, but the code will expire tomorrow, so go nuts!

Do you ever have days when it feels like you're carrying an invisible anvil around with you? Probably. Most people do.

I've been going to a therapist for the last few weeks to try to sort out why I've been having irrational downswings. Everything in life is going splendidly, and yet I can sink into a weird funk for weeks at a time where my life's work seems trivial, and pointless, and it's only my deeply ingrained habits that keep me exercising and producing things. It's normal to have a couple of days, or even a week, to recover after finishing a major project like a book, but when the urge to get doing again doesn't reappear after several weeks, well, that's not ok. I get grumpy with my wife and kids, and just can't see the point of it all.

It's probably related to the whole boarding school thing, and with being at the classic time of life where men get stupid, buy sports cars and shag their secretaries. The closest thing I have to a secretary is my virtual assistant, and she lives in Georgia (USA), so there no risk of that particular symptom, but still, this is not a healthy place to be. Though for the record, I've never been bothered at all by getting older, at least not consciously.

This is my first time going to therapy, paying a professional to listen to me blather. Probably because I have very very good friends, who listen to me blather for free! But even talking to them has not solved the problem of these downswings, so I thought I'd give this a try. The first insight from the first session was that I love a crisis; I can rise to it, and get shit done. If everything goes wrong, I'm actually happy. But when everything is going fine, that's when the trouble starts. One solution to this is to manufacture crises, which is not a good response in the long term. Another is to bury myself in projects, which is again not great, as it pulls me away from my family.

But I'm not here to bang on about the specifics of my issues. The reason I'm writing this is really simple. There is a very silly belief in the wider world that there is something shameful, weak, or incompetent about getting help for a mind problem. As if your brain wasn't an organ like your liver or your lungs. If my liver was not behaving as it should and I couldn't fix it myself, I'd get a professional to take a look. Same thing with my mind.

I should also point out that I made my first appointment while I was feeling fine. You don't have to be in the middle of an episode to take action. And I'm still fine; right now, I can see how lucky I am, and how well everything is going, and life is not only good, I can see that it is good. And if all goes well, today's session will help keep things that way. So don't wait for the storm to hit before you prepare for it.

I mentioned that I was going to therapy in my writing group, and one chap exclaimed “but Guy, you're the sanest person I know!”. Leaving aside what that says about his social circle being madder than a box of frogs, the underlying assumption was that therapy is just for the the insane. It's a common mistake, and is equivalent to thinking that you should only go to the doctor if the disease is acute and fatal.

So this post is for anyone out there who may find that the example of Jedi Master Guy the Living Sword God (as I am widely known) needing some help with his head and going and getting it makes it a bit easier for themselves to take the plunge. Seriously, chaps, you don't have to suffer in silence. You can call a friend. You can call the Samaritans (phone 116 123 in the UK; 1 (800) 273-TALK in the USA, or google “samaritans”); readers please add contact details for similar services that work in your area in the comments below.

I'll close by reminding you that I'm not a doctor, and even if I was, I'm not your doctor, so don't get your mental health advice from a swordsman. Get it from a qualified practitioner. I hope this post was completely useless to you, because you're fine through and through. But if not, then I hope it makes going and talking to someone that little bit easier.