Mewburn’s advice is always practical, more like dispatches from the trenches rather than the musings of an agony aunt. Writing both out of solidarity with her colleagues and as an expert in research education, she offers strategies for dealing with the myriad headaches and complications thrown up by doctoral life. She takes a wide scope, covering everything from imposter syndrome and sartorial strategy, to institutional sexism and the politics of food. While her chosen format favours brevity over detail, her advice is well-considered. With nods to Foucault and Bourdieu, for example, she details the cultural phenomenon of performative cleverness, a staple of conferences and seminars the world over, which too often manifests as bullying and other contemptible behaviours.

Part of Mewburn’s charm is her outsider perspective on research as labour. A ‘first-generation academic’, she recognises that for many becoming an academic also entails learning how to be middle-class. Mewburn’s best writing, however, is motivated by ‘a deep sense of anger’ that is most pronounced when she examines the capriciousness of university employment in the age of casualisation and sessional contracts. While some readers might be put off by the occasionally naff pop culture reference, I experienced a definite catharsis in reimagining my workplace as the ‘Academic Hunger Games’.