MMA hosted a discussion on Dr. A.N. Ravichandran’s book with Bhaskar Bhat, B. Santhanam, and Dr. G. Arun Kumar, exploring the mid-career PhD journey.
Bhaskar Bhat: When we were at IIT, we used to have a derogatory term for our seniors who were doing M.Tech. Forget a PhD! We used to call them Van Loons. Van Loon was the author of a chemistry book used primarily by M.Tech students. We were young and brash. To us, a PhD was beyond even a Van Loon—it felt like the ultimate waste of time.
But later, when I gave it more thought—and after I met Ravi—I began to see things differently. That’s when I started comparing a PhD to golf. Somewhere in the middle of my career, people would ask, “When did you start playing golf?” And I’d say, “I never started.” Why? Because even after becoming a club member, I felt it was an even bigger waste of time—two and a half hours for nine holes. Maybe I just didn’t enjoy the game. Or maybe, I didn’t have the skill. To me, golf and a PhD were similar pursuits—things you take up when you’ve got nothing else to do, or when you need an excuse. In golf, you can network—meet senior folks, talk business, and justify the time spent.
I met Ravi one afternoon. He was, at first, just a buddy. After that meeting, he became something more. I’m not saying it transformed me, but it definitely changed the way I viewed a PhD. In India, we pride ourselves on being intellectually ahead. We celebrate the IITs and the IIMs as global institutions. But what Ravi told me about the low PhD success rate really struck me. When I listened to him, I began to understand the sheer rigour of the process. It made me feel a little proud that, at least in India, we still take the PhD seriously.
Ravi is deeply learned. He is meticulous. He’s been committed, even through difficult times—two years of poor health, yet he didn’t give up. He appeared for exam even while unwell. Imagine that—40 years after graduating from IIT, sitting for an exam with about nine or so subjects… and he topped them. He is committed and diligent. He persisted—like a true professional.
What impressed me most is his energy. He would get up at 4:30 a.m. and work on his dissertation until 6:30 a.m. The subject he chose for PhD is equally fascinating. It’s called “CPE”—Consumer Perceived Ethicality. He has worked his whole life in consumer brands, and this research examines how consumer perceptions of ethical behavior influence brand equity. It’s a fresh and novel subject. We tend to take for granted that ethics are linked to brands, but Ravi’s work quantifies and explores this in depth.
For me, this was evocative. I’ve spent 45 years with the Tata Group, and at a critical juncture in its history, I saw how brand and ethicality were intertwined. The big bull Rakesh Jhunjhunwala once said, “Tatas are blessed by God—they can do no wrong.” That statement, made at a crucial moment, had a massive influence. Brand and ethicality are deeply embedded in our ethos.
Santhanam: Consumer Perceived Ethicality (CPE) is a topic that has received significant academic attention overseas. However, in India, it represents a critical research gap. We simply haven’t studied these issues deeply enough. In fact, we tend not to study many of these nuanced consumer behaviour topics with the level of depth they deserve. This gap—between brand equity, brand loyalty, brand affinity, and the ethical dimensions of consumer perception—is substantial and underexplored in our context.
Let’s be honest—the PhD process isn’t always democratic or transparent. Only someone who has gone through it can truly understand how complex and demanding it is. Three key themes stood out for me, for one to succeed in research: Staying deeply immersed; Staying connected with your network and staying organised.
Dr Ravichandran: My PhD journey been long and winding, at times frustrating, at times exhilarating, and at others, elevating. I hope to offer insights to others who are pursuing or planning to pursue a similar path.
There is a growing curiosity and demand among professionals to understand what earning a PhD entails—how it influences one’s career, self-actualisation, and even life’s larger goals. The journey of a PhD covers the complexities of the admission process, selecting the right institution, navigating systemic challenges and academic roadblocks, and managing the generic coursework. One needs to balance the four foundational pillars of life simultaneously—career, family, health, and the PhD journey. Then there is the need to reach out to experts, understand the publishing process, manage plagiarism, and master the intricacies of research methodology in its full depth.
It’s a well-known fact that a large number of scholars who begin their PhD journey do not complete it. While the exact percentage is debated—I’ve read that in the U.S., the dropout rate can be as high as 50%—let’s look at the Indian context. Over two lakh people apply for a PhD each year in India. Out of these, only about 25,000 to 35,000 complete their doctoral degree, depending on the source of data. This implies a vast pipeline of candidates who are struggling, and the time they take to finish contributes significantly to the low completion percentage.
In a country that seeks to build knowledge as a competitive advantage, the number of successful PhD completions must rise. What becomes clear through this journey is that there are multiple challenges: uncertainty, misguidance, inconsistent intake quality, and several other unknown factors.
Between the years 2017 and 2019, following the introduction of the mandatory publishing rule for PhD programs, it was observed that nearly 75% of all published articles were in non-Scopus indexed journals. The predatory journals and middlemen have emerged and proliferated, largely unchecked.
On the flip side, it is important to recognise that the responsibility does not rest solely with scholars. The system and the processes involved also bear significant responsibility. There is a need for greater mental preparedness among PhD aspirants. Many candidates appear to enter doctoral programs without fully appreciating the intellectual and emotional rigour involved. In my six-year PhD journey, only four years were truly productive.
Today, professionals from business, industry, bureaucracy, defence, and other sectors are increasingly showing interest in pursuing doctoral degrees. For many, it is a way to pivot mid-career, enhance their intellectual capabilities, or even improve their professional effectiveness. For others, it is a deeply personal process of self-actualisation.
I recall a moment during a class at my management school when the chairman, while discussing PhD success rates, paused at the silence in the room and reminded us, “After all, you are aiming to get the highest degree, are you not?” He himself, despite being one of today’s most highly cited authors, went through a rough journey—changing his guide and research topic due to extraneous factors—and it took him 11 years to complete his PhD. That resonated with me deeply. I, too, faced many inflection points where a single wrong step could have cost me months—if not years—of work.
Bhaskar Bhat: We certainly don’t celebrate or integrate the relationship between the industry and academia enough, and we are suffering because of it. Whether you look at the German or U.S. models of education, or what the Chinese or Japanese are doing, the rigour and depth that only academia can provide—and its transfer to industry—hasn’t really happened here to the extent it should have.
I know IIT Madras Research Park is doing some excellent work in that direction, but the academic part is still somewhat disconnected from industry needs. So for me, if more PhDs emerge from such integrations, and industry is able to absorb their expertise, that would be a win.
One part is the process; the other part is the subject matter itself. For example, Ravi’s concept of CPE as an index is very impressive. In my own experience at Titan, we do measure brand equity, and while we take pride in our insights, I often find myself criticising the research methodology. Sometimes it feels like playing to the gallery—every company wants to claim their brand is number one. That’s where academia can help us elevate the standard.
Dr Arun Kumar: I have worked in the industry. The perception of a PhD there is that it’s equivalent to a consulting report. In fact, when I reported to my boss about my PhD – I was the first PhD on his team – he said, “This is just like a consulting report, right?”
Dr A N Ravichandran: Let me surprise you with this anecdote: nearly three decades ago, a well-known Professor who was consulting with us, reviewed a corporate plan I had prepared for Tractors and Farm Equipment (TAFE) and told me, “Ravi, this is more than 50% of a PhD!” People in the corporate world often believe that if you do some good research, develop models, and write a few papers, you’re more or less doing a PhD already. There’s a sense of entitlement that it can be done quickly—maybe in a year or two. That is absolutely wrong. In fact, the very first professor I approached for guidance—Professor Rao told me clearly: “A PhD is not the culmination of research. It is the beginning.” That stayed with me.
At 60, it was a humbling experience for me. I had to shed my ego, set aside everything I had learned in the industry, and start afresh. When I began, I thought I would research something grand like India-China comparisons. But my guide told me to narrow the focus, choose a simple subject, and go deep. The process is robust, and yes—it’s like turning boys into men, metaphorically speaking.
Bhaskar Bhat: Unfortunately, across many areas like market research, we’ve seen a decline in depth and rigour. Research has often become superficial, catering to the audience rather than building fundamental insights. I say this with a degree of self-awareness too.
But true, in-depth research—the kind that academia enables—has value far beyond that. Let me give an example. I was on the board of a German company, where 8% of an €82 billion turnover went into pure R&D. That’s a significant commitment. And what’s more, their work is not just intellectual; it produces measurable economic outcomes. But it all begins with fundamental research. That’s where the respect comes in—from top leadership. And I don’t think we’ve achieved that culture of respect for research in India yet. But a shift is beginning to take place.
Santhanam: There are two key global trends I’m observing—especially as someone who works closely with large-scale markets that present significant opportunities for India.
First, the quality of engineering talent moving into non-tech companies—that is, companies outside the ICT sector—in the US and Europe has been steadily declining. You would be surprised at how limited the talent pool is in those regions when it comes to deep technical or engineering capabilities. This presents a huge opportunity for India to leapfrog, given our vast and growing talent base.
Second, the emergence and evolution of Global Capability Centers (GCCs) in India have dramatically transformed the country’s research and innovation landscape. As of now, there are around 1,700 GCCs in India, and at least one-third of them are focusing on engineering and R&D. For example, in Chennai alone, there are organisations like Renault-Nissan, where over 10,000 professionals are working in product development and engineering R&D.
So, we are witnessing a clear shift—India is becoming a global hub for research and development, largely driven by availability of high-quality talent at optimal cost, and by the shortage of similar talent abroad in non-ICT industries. This is a fantastic opportunity for India.
The ideas of deep immersion, structured thinking, and methodical research are equally applicable in industry settings. When industry leaders begin to understand the value of rigour, discipline, and research methodology, it can significantly uplift the quality of industrial innovation. India has a real shot at becoming a global R&D powerhouse, just as we’ve seen happen in China.
Dr Arun Kumar: Doing a PhD mid-career is hard enough—but to do it toward the final leg of your corporate journey must have been more than just a challenge. What kind of internal transformation did you have to go through to undertake this? In short—what was your motivation?
Dr. Ravichandran: I came to the PhD with zero career stakes, and so in many ways, I could afford to look at it with detachment. But for those who pursue it for career advancement or academic transition, there is more at stake. As for my motivation—it’s been a long and interrupted journey. Twice in my life, I almost shifted into academics to pursue a PhD. In 1994, I was seriously considering it. But just then, I landed a top marketing role at Bajaj Auto, and I chose to return to the industry. Again, in 2001, I was appointed TTK Chair Professor in Marketing Management at DoMS, IIT Madras. But once more, I returned to industry—this time to Crompton Greaves to head their consumer businesses.
So, this restlessness of the industry guy never really left me. It was only when that restlessness finally ceased that I knew it was the right time. But even that doesn’t fully explain the urge to pursue a PhD. The truth is—it came from deep within. The motivation has to come from within. Once that internal conviction is formed, there’s no turning back. But you must be mentally prepared, because each individual comes with a different reason for doing a PhD. You must examine your reasons deeply before making the commitment.
Dr Arun Kumar: You also had to undergo coursework. Most of your classmates would have been in their 20s, just beginning their academic careers. Surely, there must have been a generational gap. Was there any resistance from their side?
Dr. Ravichandran: Well, you need to understand something. We belong to the IIT–IIM Mafia, as I jokingly call it! Come to one of our Golden Jubilee reunions and you’ll see—we could put today’s 25-year-olds to shame with our energy and camaraderie.
To be honest, I never once felt excluded. Not during coursework, not in research groups, not in academic discussions. Even today, many of my younger peers are in touch with me. They frequently reach out, ask questions, and seek guidance. The bond has remained intact. In fact, I’d say the age difference was never a barrier—it was a bridge. They brought their youthful energy; I brought experience. And that blend worked beautifully.
Dr Arun Kumar: You eventually identified Aligarh Muslim University (AMU), but before that, you did a lot of groundwork. You were trying to pursue a PhD through institutions in Hyderabad and other places. That journey itself must have been quite an episode—at times frustrating. Given your high-flying corporate career and other professional commitments, how did you manage to stay motivated and not give up?
Dr. Ravichandran: One whole year went into the process of choosing the right institution. I wasted a lot of time during that phase. A bad experience in the journey is often an indication that something better is on its way. That’s a very important life lesson. There were several moments of frustration, but if your motivation is deep enough, you treat each roadblock as a stepping stone.
Bhaskar Bhat: Most of you would recognise Titan through its beautiful stores, great advertising, stylish products, and so on. But what often goes unnoticed is what lies beneath. Titan is, at its core, a Tamil Nadu-based manufacturing company—deeply embedded in manufacturing excellence.
I don’t want to suggest that companies in manufacturing necessarily do better R&D. But here’s the flip side: India is a land of immense opportunity, and in this world of apps and quick-fix solutions, you can actually create a high-tech product—like a wearable device or a consumer durable—without really knowing what goes into it. That’s where the rigour of a company like Titan comes in. Whether it’s a watch, a piece of jewellery or a lens, Titan applies depth and technical understanding. It’s embedded in our DNA. That’s why we call ourselves experts in categories, not just retailers.
Let me explain: if you walk into a retailer like Croma or Westside—I’m taking examples from my own group—you’ll find great products, but they’re fundamentally retailers. They don’t necessarily know what goes into making a better washing machine or mobile phone. Titan is different.
That’s what triggered our economic growth—our ability to go deep. Unfortunately, we’ve lost some of the fundamental thinking in physics, chemistry, and mathematics along the way. But Titan’s innovations remain rooted in those fundamentals.
Let me share the latest from Titan’s innovation table—something developed well after my retirement, but the passion remains. We recently launched a mechanical watch called the Tourbillon, priced at ₹30 lakhs. Global watchmakers have been making Tourbillons for years. Titan could have easily outsourced it, but instead, we went deep into the process—despite being primarily a quartz watch manufacturer producing 18 million watches annually. This Tourbillon is a niche—only 50 or 60 pieces—but that depth is what drives product excellence.
We were among the first companies to set up shop at the IIT Madras Research Park, despite being a small-scale outfit. Our marketing and retail teams raised questions—like how to ensure better gold plating, as customers demanded a guarantee. Our R&D responded with a major breakthrough: physical vapour deposition plating, replacing the traditional method from 30 years ago. Later, we developed the Carat Meter for our jewellery division to help customers measure the gold content themselves—again, not a marketing innovation, but a manufacturing one.
Santhanam: Now, people are working on differentiating natural vs. lab-grown diamonds and even measuring brilliance more accurately using metrics like the traditional Four Cs.
Bhaskar Bhat: Yes. It’s this passion to understand and make our own products—to know what we’re selling—that sets Titan apart. Whether it’s lenses, jewellery, or high-end watches, we aim to make them ourselves. It’s the pursuit of excellence that drives us. When customer questions arise, we go back into R&D, and there’s a seamless handshake between aesthetic design, engineering design, and manufacturing. When that happens beautifully, you get an extraordinary economic output.
Santhanam: I’m quite happy with the progress made over the past 10 years at IIT Madras Research Park. There are two parts to this development.
First, there’s the deep and meaningful collaboration with IIT labs and professors, resulting in purposeful research and the effective use of IIT Madras’s analytical capabilities.
Second, we’ve been able to leverage students—particularly those pursuing higher education. We recruit a significant number of masters graduates, and IIT Madras has an excellent program that allows them to pursue PhDs in areas directly relevant to our work. That has been immensely valuable.
In my view—and I say this as an alumnus of IIT Madras—this institute is ahead of the curve compared to perhaps IIT Delhi, IIT Bombay, or IIT Kharagpur in terms of strong industry-academia collaboration. For instance, we are currently engaged in highly sophisticated modelling of large glass-melting furnaces. The data analytics component is being powered by the data science group at IIT Madras, who work closely with our in-house team. Thermal modelling of glass melting at 1600 degrees Celsius is also being jointly pursued.
This level of collaborative research simply wasn’t possible in the past. The challenge used to be that academic institutions were focused on deep work, while companies needed agility. We weren’t deep enough, and academics weren’t agile enough. That gap is now closing. We’re becoming more research-oriented, and institutions like IIT Madras are becoming more agile and industry-responsive.
I’m optimistic about this transition. Large companies like Saint-Gobain and many others are now running Global Capability Centers (GCCs) that are focused on R&D and end-to-end product development platforms. I foresee even more collaboration in the future—not just with the IITs, but also with IISc, NITs and other institutions. The ecosystem is evolving positively.
