Some weeks ago, my friends and I were just reflecting on our first semester and wondering how we navigated a new environment, new people and our academic work. While some of us had missed going for lectures, others were still shocked how the months went by so fast. But for me, it was a bit of everything; how did I go from waiting eight years to pursue a Master’s degree to completing the taught component in just eight months?
But I wasn’t the only one with questions, we all had questions. Many questions. Too many, in fact. But alongside the questions was an undeniable truth — we had been transformed and viewed things from a more critical lens. Not in the cliché and usual way, but in the deeper, slightly uncomfortable, intellectually demanding kind of way. At Edinburgh, “critical thinking” and “analysis” aren’t just academic jargon or instructions for essays. They had become tools we used daily—on essays, arguments, and even weekend debates about food, politics and relationships. Which is not surprising. After all is the purpose of a world class education not to transform and impact the students?
Someone once said that a Master’s degree is about critiquing knowledge, not necessarily producing it. And that PhD is where you begin to generate new thoughts and original solutions. I’m not entirely against that view. Every time I read a research paper, I instinctively step into the author’s shoes, interrogating their logic, dissecting their evidence, and asking the big question: “Yes, but… is it convincing?” The University of Edinburgh trains you to think not in absolutes, but in arguments. It’s not about who is right or wrong, but it is about who builds the stronger and convincing case.
At Edinburgh, you learn to think, not just to know. To challenge, not just consume. To walk into a room and ask, “But what assumptions are we making here?” before anyone else can. To read something on LinkedIn and begin questioning in what context is this written? You are trained not to seek only after final answers/solutions, but to interrogate the questions themselves and most often, write a 1000-word short essay or a 3,000-word long essay about it and receive feedback.
But it’s not just academic excellence that sets Edinburgh apart. This place prepares you for the world of work in the most unexpected ways. You become a professional multitasker — juggling assignments, job applications, part-time work, volunteering and yet, somehow still showing up for class hangouts, department dinners and programs. If I were given £10 for every workshop, seminar, or careers event I have attended, I would probably have enough money to travel across Europe, and then maybe even buy a drink at the SPS cafeteria.
Ultimately, the value of a University of Edinburgh Master’s degree isn’t just in the certificate you will hang on your bedroom wall or the sleek graduation pictures. It’s in the way you learn to engage with complexity, to be skeptical without being cynical, and to navigate uncertainty with both an intellectual and curious lens. It’s in the friends you make, the theories you debate, and the occasional thoughts you battle through.
And let’s be honest — if you have made it through a Scottish winter as someone from the tropics specifically Africa, while writing lots of academic essays and surviving on Sainsbury sandwiches in between lectures, you are probably ready for anything the world throws at you.
Your-Edinburgh-student,
Diana
