Applying to graduate school is something that likely only happens once in a lifetime, and so almost no one doing it has experience in the process. The goal of this post is to help demystify the process, so that you can best present your case.
Rule no. 1: Don’t Go
The first piece of advice that almost anyone gives to prospective Ph.D. students in history these days is: don’t go. Most people apply because they love history and they have had inspiring professors, and they think it would be great to have that job. But since the Great Recession, the job market for historians has been limited. Being a history professor can indeed be a wonderful job (I’m very grateful for mine), but there’s a kind of survivorship bias among the existing professoriate. For the record: I spent seven years on the job market and finished my first book before I got a tenure track job. I had equally talented colleagues in grad school who never got the right roll of the dice. The job market is only partially meritocratic. In general, people who have jobs deserve them, in the sense that they have done good work. But that doesn’t mean that they deserve one more than someone who doesn’t have one; or that someone who happens to have a job at a more prestigious institution is more qualified for it than their colleague who has a considerably higher teaching load at a lower-ranked institution.
As this is written in 2026, the American Historical Association’s most recent data shows that 2025 was the worst job market since the pandemic. History departments across the United States are shrinking. (Read the report here: https://www.historians.org/perspectives-article/the-2025-academic-jobs-report/) Will there be a recovery? Perhaps. At the University of Wisconsin-Madison, where I teach, the number of majors we have is rising again. We are hearing from some students who thought they would study computer science that AI is making that career path less certain, and so they are following their heart. Perhaps AI will place the kinds of skills developed as a historian in greater demand in demand. But it is very difficult to predict the future. The opposite might also happen. If it takes you six to eight years to finish a Ph.D., what will the world be like? It’s hard to say. About half of people drop out of a Ph.D. program before completing, deciding that it isn’t for them after all. Others decide that they would prefer a job as an editor, or a teacher, or in university administration, or in a think tank, or in public history, or in government, or in the private sector. Often these Ph.Ds. are very happy with their jobs, and so I call that a success. But if your mentality is tenure-track-or-bust, ask yourself if you are comfortable putting in years of work for a 25% chance of success, where even success could mean moving elsewhere in the country or even the world, for a salary that you could surely surpass elsewhere?
You ignored Rule no. 1. Now what?
But let’s say you have gotten past this advice and still intend to apply for graduate school. You will need to prepare an application. How does that work, and what will happen after it is complete?
Every application is a little bit different, but in general they consist of:
- A statement of purpose
- A writing sample
- Letters of recommendation
- School transcripts (and possibly standardized tests)
I have arranged these in the importance that I assign them, and I think this order holds true for most faculty. And it is the faculty that you must convince. Unlike the undergraduate admissions process, there is no admissions office. The faculty themselves decide who to admit. (After all, they are signing up for a decade-long relationship with you too.) Some departments assemble a committee to evaluate all of the graduate applications in a given year and to advance nominations. But at my institution (and this is also common) each geographic cohort is given an allocation. The faculty in that cohort evaluate the applications and decide amongst themselves who to nominate. So, for example, perhaps the Europe group can make three nominations in a given year, while the Latin America group can make one. If you are applying to work on a topic in Latin American history, you have to convince the faculty in that area that you are the best student to admit that year.
The admissions targets I have given there are realistic—perhaps even optimistic. (At UW, we typically have about thirty applicants for one spot in Latin American history, for an admission rate of about 3%.) Multiple faculty are likely to be sharing an “allocation.” Four faculty might share a single offer, for example, and have to negotiate amongst themselves some kind of rotation plan. Or perhaps someone is going on leave soon, and therefore won’t be admitting this year. Or perhaps someone has too many students already, and defers to someone who has fewer. There can be a lot taking place behind the scenes that affects your chances of success, and over which you have no control. You should never take a graduate school rejection personally. You can make the final pool and not get in even though you are highly qualified, and even though someone would really like to work with you and thinks that you have a bright future in the profession.
That said, there are ways to write a good application, and ways to write one that will get you removed from consideration. Let’s take the components in turn.
The Statement of Purpose
The statement of purpose is the most important part of your application. It is, first of all, what it says. It is a statement of purpose. It is not a personal essay. You should describe, in as much detail as possible, what you want to study. You should ideally describe the dissertation project that you intend to complete. It might change in your time in grad school, but you should make a serious attempt. This is arguably the most important part of your application. It is essential for faculty to know if their expertise, and the resources of their university, are the right match for you. If your proposal is vague, this is a weaker application. If it is undefined, you won’t get in.
There is a personal component to the personal essay. You can describe how you came to your topic, why it matters to you, and why you are prepared to take it on. Have you done related prior work on a thesis? Have you mastered the necessary languages? Do you have life or work experiences that give you insight into the questions at hand? Explain them. Provide evidence. If you start your statement of purpose by saying that you are applying to graduate school because you have loved history since you were a kid, throw it out and start over. That’s great, but it is irrelevant to your qualifications to do a Ph.D. Discuss your project and your preparation. Make your love for the subject speak through the evidence. Show, don’t tell.
Finally, the statement of purpose should close with a paragraph about why the institution to which you have submitted the application is a good match. You should name the person you intend to serve as your primary advisor, and say why. You need to be familiar with their work. You should name other people you want to work with. Maybe there’s an intellectual connection with someone outside the geographic cluster. Name them. Maybe there are programs at the university that you would like to join. Name them. At many institutions, it is the three or four people you name who will read your application. Do your research.
The Writing Sample
The purpose of the writing sample is to demonstrate your ability to do work in the field of your application. If you are applying to a program in history, you should submit work that shows that you can do good work in history. That means that the sample should show that you can work with primary sources and demonstrate your ability to interpret those sources. An undergraduate or M.A. thesis is usually the best choice. A final paper for a course in which you simply interpreted secondary sources would not be sufficient. A heavily theoretical paper, even a very smart one, is not the best choice. Show that you can do the kind of work that you will be doing for the Ph.D., which is empirical work in history.
Suppose that the application asks for a 30-page writing sample. Should you submit a longer sample? Does a 45-page sample show that you are 50% more amazing? The answer is no. If you submit something longer than what it is requested, don’t expect it to be read. The faculty making selections probably have thousands of application pages to read. Better fewer, but better. Choose your best-written, best-researched, and best-argued pages. You can include a note indicating that they are part of a larger project.
In general, the writing sample is the second-most important part of your application. It should back up the assertions about your preparation in your statement of purpose. The quality of your prose, and of your thinking, matter. Without a good statement of purpose and a good writing sample, there is no good application.
Letters of Recommendation
Generally, you arrange for three letters of recommendation. You want them from the faculty who know you and your work best. The first and most important letter, for example, will be from your undergrad (or M.A.) thesis supervisor. They will speak to your academic record as well as your intellectual and personal qualities. It is beneficial if at least some of your letter writers should be in the subfield that you intend to study. If you were in a large lecture class with a great professor, they may not have gotten to know you well. Seminars teachers are better.
The letters of recommendation are necessary, but they do not make up for weaknesses in the statement of purpose or writing sample. Bear in mind that most people applying for graduate school will have strong letters of recommendation calling the candidate one of the best students that the faculty member has taught in the last ten years, etc. etc. Every now and then, a particularly compelling letter will emerge and help a case. But it is often hard to use the letters to distinguish between strong candidates, and strong letters will not make up for problems in the statement and sample.
Transcripts and Standardized Tests
I have ranked these last because I find them to be the least important. Some candidates might wonder if school pedigree makes much difference. At least at my institution and to my eyes, it doesn’t. There are lots of ways to obtain excellent preparation. Going to a prestigious school might help. But it also might not: just having an Ivy degree to your name doesn’t guarantee anything. Some of the best historians I know started out at community colleges. Others went to Harvard. Either of those, or anything in between, is fine. What matters is to show that used the experiences you have had to prepare yourself for the task of grad school. If you have great grades, fantastic. But grade inflation means that those aren’t very useful for making distinctions. If you don’t have great grades, you should explain that in your statement of purpose. Perhaps you had a rough period in your life, but have figured yourself and your goals out now. You can turn that time of struggle into evidence of determination. That said, the Ph.D. is a difficult academic task and it is important to show academic capability and initiative. It’s just that there are many ways to show it, not just one.
Applicants might wonder whether applicants coming straight from undergrad have an advantage (or a disadvantage) over those who have work experience. Again, it doesn’t matter too much. Personally, I think work experience outside of a university setting is a positive thing, because it is better to treat grad school like a job than it is to treat it like undergrad, which for many people produces bad sleep schedules and work habits. Nevertheless, this is a very minor factor, if it is a factor at all. Other faculty might have other preferences. You should do what’s right for your life, not try to arrange your life to maximize your chances at admission.
Most programs don’t require standardized test scores (such as the GRE) any more, because they imposed costs on students without providing a lot of information. If you have good ones, you can include them. If you’re not a native English speaker, faculty will assume that your English will improve while you’re in the program, but a decent TOEFL will let them know that you’re ready to start.
Other Work
It is normal to reach out to faculty if you hope to work with them. You can send an email explaining your interests and ask if they are taking students. Some faculty may hold brief zoom meetings with you. But please do not insist on a meeting: faculty do not have enough time to meet with all potential prospective students. I generally make virtual office hours available once in the fall in a year. However, this is an area where the culture differs strongly between different institutions. You can ask, in your email, if it is normal to have a meeting before you apply.
After your application is submitted, it will be provided to faculty. Remember that they have thousands of pages of application materials to read, generally over winter “break.” They’re going to start with the statement of purpose, so make sure it is polished. They will winnow the pool to a smaller group that they think are highly qualified for admission. Then they will be forced to make a difficult choice about who can get the offer. Institutional “fit” is very important: someone who is a great match for what the faculty and university has to offer is likely to move from the final pool to an offer than someone who is an equally strong candidate but not as good a match. So make sure to do your homework, and apply to a range of universities that could support your work. It’s a tough time out there. I repeat: a rejection is not personal. It may have as much to do with the institution as it has to do with you. But it may It may sting, but it also may not be a bad thing for your life. Good luck.
patrick iber 
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