The Philosophers' Cocoon

The costs of getting a tenure-track job

In a recent post at Daily Nous, L.A. Paul and John Quiggan suggest that when it comes to rationally deliberating about whether to enter a PhD program in philosophy,

The crucial question is whether students can prospectively assess how much they’ll disvalue not getting that tenure track job when the training is done (or, put differently, how much they’ll disvalue the life they’ll find themselves living as an unsuccessful job candidate). 

Paul & Quiggan's post very much resonated with me. I entered graduate school naively optimistic, thinking everything would go according to plan: that I would finish the PhD quickly, get a tenure-track job without a problem, and get tenure. Oh how different the reality was. I struggled to finish my degree, getting stuck at the dissertation stage (like all too many grad students do), and then after I finally finished the degree I grappled with the job-market for seven years. There were so many times--both in grad school and beyond--that I wished I could go back in time and knock some sense into my earlier self, convincing him to stay the heck away from entering a philosophy PhD program.

However, are Paul and Quiggan correct that 'the crucial question' is whether students can prospectively assess how much they'll disvalue not getting a tenure-track job? Some recent experiences have led me to think the crucial question is much more complex--and in some ways much more disturbing--than this. Allow me to explain, by way of two stories.

Dissertations: monographs or three articles?

In our newest "how can we help you?" thread, Busqueda writes:

I wonder what folks think about monograph dissertations in comparison to three-article model dissertations.

I wonder because it seems as if having three articles are more likely to increase once’s chances on the job market in comparison to a monograph.

I think this is a really interesting query, and I'm curious to hear what people have to say. Allow me to share a few thoughts.

Balancing frequent assignments with workload

In our newest "how can we help you?" thread, Michel writes:

It seems clear to me that students benefit a great deal from having many chances to apply what they've learned through frequent assignments, scaffolded essays, etc. I'd be curious to know how Cocooners with hefty teaching loads balance the desire to do all that with the demands of teaching three to five courses or sections a term. Do you stagger assignments between your courses and sections? Do you use a lot of peer-grading? What else?

Great questions, and I'm curious to hear what readers have to say! Here are a few of my own thoughts.

Earlier in my career (during my non-TT years and before tenure), I gave my students many frequent assignments while having a hefty teaching load. Students responded really positively--often saying in my course reviews that my courses were super challenging and full of work, but that it was worth it and they learned a lot. Unfortunately, doing that basically required me to work myself into the ground and wasn't very sustainable, at least not if I wanted (as I do) to maintain a modicum of personal well-being. So, ever since getting tenure, I have changed things a bit.

First, I've increasingly staggered types of assignments across courses, based on reflection on what I'd like students in different kinds of courses to learn. For example, some of my courses (lower-level courses for non-majors) tend to me more exam based, along with many frequent smaller assignments (e.g. 5 sentence reading responses and in-glass group assignments). The basic rationale is that my primary pedagogical aims in these courses are to expose non-majors--people who may never take another philosophy courses--to philosophical material, help them to understand it, and get them to think critically about it (both as individuals and in groups) on a daily basis. Conversely, in my courses in the major I want to focus less on exams and more on longer (1-page) reading responses, term-papers, and final presentations. In brief, this is because I think it's vital for majors in particular to learn how to think more deeply about the material, and to develop their ability to write about and present complex material and original arguments of their own. Long story short, I've found that staggering different kinds of assignments across courses (doing different assignment-types and lengths in different levels of courses) can be helpful for ensuring that students in all of my courses receive frequent assignments and feedback without working myself into the ground.

Second, I've begun staggering the timing of assignments within and across classes. For example, in my human rights seminar this Spring, I had students do 1-page reading responses each class for the first 11 weeks of the semester. However, the last four weeks of the semester they no longer have reading-responses due. Instead, they have term-paper workshops that require them to do some work at home (e.g. a paper outline, drafting their introduction, drafting their summary) and then bring that material to class for peer-feedback and submit to me for instructor feedback. I've found this incredibly helpful, as removing the reading responses frees up time for providing them feedback on their workshop assignments--and devoting the second hour of class to workshops lessens the amount of prep I need to put into my daily lectures. In other words, I "make room" for an increase in grading load (e.g. giving daily feedback on partial-drafts of term-papers) by lessening my workload elsewhere (no more reading responses to grade and shorter lectures). Similarly, because in my upper-division applied ethics courses I think it is pedagogically valuable to end courses with student presentations (followed by short group assignments discussing each presentation), I am able to end one course (say, Biomedical Ethics) with no lecture prep the last two weeks, thus again freeing up time for other things (grading final presentations, etc.).

In short, although I still do a lot of grading and have frequent assignments, I've been increasingly looking for creative ways to lessen my workload in one area (e.g. lecture prep, grading reading responses) whenever my workload increases in another area (term-paper workshops, final presentations, etc.)--so that I'm able to keep my students engaged with frequent assignments without working myself into the ground as much as I used to. In full disclosure, I think there are some pedagogical costs to some of the choices I've experimented with (viz. having lower-division courses more exam- and short-reading response based, instead of, say, having term-papers). Fortunately, though, as someone who is always looking for better ways to do things, the costs I've perceived here have led me to think about other approaches that I hope to experiment with moving forward--ones that I'm excited to try out! Indeed, if I've learned anything about teaching at all, it's that its often precisely these kinds of challenges--viz. balancing various pedagogical goals with workload, etc.--that inspire one to continually rethink and refine one's methods and keep things "new", both for oneself and one's students.

But these are just some of my thoughts. What are yours?

Reader Query on Transfer Desks

In our newest "how can we help you?" thread, LM writes:

I recently received a rejection from a top 10-20 journal after an R&R. I then received notice that my manuscript had been sent to the Transfer Desk. I had never heard of this before. So my question is, is it a good thing for it to be sent to the transfer desk? Should I take advantage of this given that I could send it to a top specialty journal in my field? Or should I revise it in light of my rejection comments and resubmit to another generalist journal with a great reputation?

Amanda then added:

I will be curious to hear what others say about the transfer thing. I recently got something like this for the first time too. From what I could tell, it is just a way for journal publishers to try and get papers published in journals that don't have that many submissions, or to otherwise keep the paper with the same publisher. I do not think it is a good thing, and I would just submit it to whatever journal you think would be best.

Apparently I've been living under a rock or something, because I've never heard of Transfer Desks before and have no idea what in the world they are! Anyone care to fill those of us in who don't know what this is all about? And, for those of you who are more in the know, how would you answer LM's questions? Is going the Transfer Desk route a good idea, or (as Amanda's comment suggests) something to avoid?

The Future of Publishing @ Pacific APA

If any of you are heading to the Pacific APA this week and are interested in meeting up, feel free to email me at marvan@ut.edu or fb message me. In fact, if there's any interest, perhaps we can even do a Cocoon meetup of sorts!

In any case, I hope to see some of you there, and hope some of you choose to check out the panel I'm serving on Wednesday (tomorrow) evening at 6:00pm:

The PhilPapers Foundation
Topic: The Future of Publishing and Peer Review in Philosophy
Chair: David Bourget (University of Western Ontario)
Panelists:

Marcus Arvan (University of Tampa)
Liam Kofi Bright (London School of Economics)
Catarina Dutilh Novaes (Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam)
David Velleman (New York University)

We'll be discussing a randomized survey on publishing David Bourget recently carried out on PhilPeople, as well as ways that publishing and peer-review might be improved. Hopefully it will be good and interesting discussion!

Reader query on coaching ethics bowl

In our newest "how can we help you?" thread, a reader writes in: Has anyone coached an Ethics Bowl team before? I just found out I will be next year, and I have no idea how to do it well.

I began coaching Ethics Bowl teams in my first job (a VAP at UBC), and have coached a team each of the past nine years at my current institution (a few of which have done quite well!). Let me begin by saying that it really has been one of the more rewarding parts of my job. The students tend to be really into it, it leads to good philosophical discussions that students learn from and challenge you to learn from as well--and when your team does well, it can be really gratifying to see your students shine (especially if, as is often the case, you've seen your students grow over several years). Finally, even in cases where your team doesn't do well, it can be a positive experience--provided you and your team members approach it as a learning opportunity.

Anyway, I don't want to give all of my team's "secrets" away (as my teams have worked hard experimenting with a lot of different things, some of which may not have worked for us but might work for other teams). So let me instead just outline how we prepare in general.

Transitioning to one's first TT job

In our newest "how can we help you?" thread, Eddie writes:

I would be grateful to read a post on how one coming out of grad school or a post doc should prepare for starting their new tenure-track assistant professorship in the states, with an eye toward getting off on the right foot for securing tenure painlessly.

'Excited new prof' then added:

My request relates to Eddie's. I was wondering if anyone would have advice about what (not) to do during your first year as an Assistant professor on a tenure-track. I'm starting this fall at a regional comprehensive in the U.S.

Great questions - and there has already been some good advice given, particularly Old Prof's:

What NOT to do in your first year: do not agree to do all sorts of committee work, and then not deliver on what you said you would do (be realistic); do not hide problems with your teaching until they are so big the dean hears about it (get help early); do not assume that your new institution works like the ones you have been at in the past (ask questions); do not stop researching (show that you can balance research with full time teaching ... it is also the only way to get out of a bad place if you need to leave); do not go out drinking with your students or say inappropriate things to them; do not trash your colleagues to other people on campus (wait at least a year for that ;).

But let me add a few more things before opening things up for discussion...

Query on SEP & Phil Compass articles

In our newest "how can we help you?" thread, 'possibly unlucky' writes:

Sorry if this has already been addressed, but I would love a discussion of the way in which SEP/PhilCompass articles are handled. I think most view a publication in SEP or PhilCompass quite favorably (I'm always impressed by such publications) and these publications allow the author to exert a fair amount of influence over the subfield (unlike traditional journal articles, these reference articles can be read by hundreds, if not thousands). Yet the process by which credit and influence are distributed is, to me at least, extraordinarily opaque. I've only had experience with PhilCompass, but my sense is that the subeditors have a tremendous amount of autonomy and so there is no standard practice. There's no review system or procedure in place, so those who don't personally know the subeditor may not be guaranteed serious consideration. In my own case, I had to just cold email the editors. In one case the editors told me to come back in a year (a year!) if I hadn't published my article and they *may* reconsider it. In another case, the editor just ignored me. Have people had similar experiences or am I just unlucky?

There was quite a bit of discussion about this query in that thread already, but let me say a few brief things. In reply to 'possibly unlucky', Amanda wrote:

My experience is that invited publications count for a lot, as much as peer-reviewed journals for lots of research places. It is all about proving you are a member of an elite club, not some impassioned judgement of who is objectively best.

I have to confess that I found this very surprising. As someone who doesn't work at a R1 institution, I would have thought that Phil Compass and SEP entries would not count as positively in a candidate's favor as traditional non-invited publications featuring original research. Indeed, my own experience (having served on four search committees) is that some search committees really want to see whether a candidate can publish original research consistently through traditional, anonymized review - and that if a candidate only has a few publications, most of which are either invited or literature overviews (viz. SEP or Phil Compass), then that could even count against a candidate.

But, like others, I am merely speaking anecdotally here. Any search committee members care to weigh in? How do you (or committees you've served on) tend to treat Phil Compass or SEP publications?

Doing better for our graduate students, making a PhD in philosophy worth it

This story, by Rachel Williams, is simply entitled "A PhD in philosophy was not worth it".  The title reflects the contents well. The story's familiar, but that does not make it less sad:  Rachel Williams writes about the disillusionment, lost opportunities, low wages, and a profession that looks increasingly hostile and unattractive.  She lists the problems that plague the profession: the obsession with brilliance, the editorial buddy circles, publish or perish culture, the slim chances of getting a tenure track job out of grad school, or at all (after years of precarious employment), and the lack of support from peers or mentors. 

Suppose you make it in the profession. By 'make it', we will typically mean that someone is in their mid or late thirties by the time they land a tenure track job in a geographical area they will often not have chosen to live in, working on a 3/3 or even 4/4 course load, and earning a starting salary of anywhere between 49 and 76k (often the lower part of this range), which only slowly inches up over the years. While that is still a decent salary, you have to take into account the years of lower earnings and the risk in the market. 

What if you do not make it? Did you then just waste at least six years (at least, in the US) on graduate school that could have been spent better elsewhere? "You don’t really know what academic philosophy is really like before it’s too late." - Williams writes, regretting her lack of opportunities and lack of money in her retirement fund at age 32. 

The solution, some might argue, is to just have fewer PhDs in philosophy. But I'm not at all sure that is a good idea. If we restrict the number of PhDs, the barriers to entry to the profession will shift to earlier on in the process, and it will be more difficult for people without the cultural, economic and social capital (middle class, white, etc) to do a PhD in philosophy. Moreover, I think that a PhD in philosophy has value. I've interviewed people who went to grad school in philosophy who are successful writers of novels and have produced and co-written TV series,  as well as career coaches, statisticians, computer programmers, and  I was recently filmed for television series on science and religion by someone who studied (but did not complete) a Philosophy PhD. A Philosophy PhD is currently running for Member of the European Parliament (see here for an article in Dutch).  

I will be placement officer next year, so I'm thinking about ways to help support our grad students. Absolutely, if our graduate students see academia as their plan A, we should support them in that and help them to achieve this goal. We should be realistic about the range of jobs on offer (not every job is a job at a research-intensive, prestigious university; most aren't and that is fine) and we should help them to prepare and tailor their CV and materials for the places they want to land jobs at. 

But if our graduate students feel some hesitation at academia over time, it is important to recognize that and to support them in alternative career choices. Typically, in the humanities (though I am not aware of any empirical work on this and would like to hear about it), it seems to me people mostly start graduate school wanting to have an academic career. But over time, some grad students start doubting that teaching is for them, or that writing papers is for them, or that the combination of teaching and research really suits them. And then we should also support them in that. Maybe it is prudent to talk about non-academic placement in any case, just as a sensible plan B. 

How can we help you? (April 2019)

It's a pretty busy time of the semester, and we haven't had one of these threads in a while, so I figured now might be a good time for one.

For those of you unfamiliar with this series, this is a chance for you to post openly or anonymously in the comments section below on anything you could use help with related to the profession. After you post your query in the comments section, I will then post new threads for readers to discuss your query.

Please feel free to ask questions on anything (within the Cocoon's mission) that you could use help with, including but not limited to:

• The job-market (applying for jobs, etc.)
• Graduate school
• Publishing
• Teaching
• Issues in the profession
• Work-life balance
• Personal struggles
• Etc.

Fire away - we're here to help!

The “job market" doesn't start post-PhD

This is a guest post by John Protevi, Louisiana State University

This post has two sections. In the first, I take a wide view at employment practices in philosophy departments in American higher education. In the second, taking that analysis in hand, I offer some advice to people considering entering graduate school in philosophy.

When philosophers talk about "the job market," they presuppose that the job market in philosophy begins post-PhD, that it’s all about people looking for a TT job. 

I suggest that we change our frame of reference on these matters, and specify that when we talk about "the job market" in this way we are discussing only a small segment of the complete system of employment for philosophy instruction in institutions of higher education. So I'd like to suggest we call the analysis of the complete system "the political economy of philosophy instruction." 

When we change the frame of reference like that, we see the context for the (post-PhD) job market includes post-BA labor of graduate assistants (either as TAs in charge of sections, or in charge of discussion groups, or as graders of essays) as well as part-time and full-time instructors with BA, MA, or PhD, and post-docs with teaching duties. 

To put it in a formula that retains “job market”: the *real* job market for philosophy teachers begins post-BA, so that PhDs are not just competing against other PhDs but also against anyone else who teaches philosophy, holders of the BA and MA included. 

When we talk about the "political economy of philosophy instruction" we can then explicitly talk about several factors that are only implicit in the discussion of the (post-PhD) "job market."

First, we can see the role of university administrators, who are, after all, largely responsible for the shifts in employment patterns in philosophy instruction. 

To an administrator, a section of Logic or Intro to Phil or Intro to Ethics or ... taught by a BA or MA is a section taught, and taught at low cost. This focus on administrators enables us to connect "job market" discourse with the analyses of the "corporate university," the "privatization of the university," and like matters.

APA seeks to connect with philosophers interested in Asian Philosophies

Are you interested in one or more Asian Philosophy?  Would you like help integrating Asian Philosophies into your teaching, reading, or research plans? Would you like to hear more talks by specialists? Would you like to know about events and opportunities to chair/comment? 

If you are a graduate student or faculty member and you answer yes to any of these questions, the APA Committee on Asian and Asian-American Philosophers and Philosophies wants to hear from you!

We want to help people like you gain access to opportunities, resources, and useful information.  Please click on the appropriate link below to fill out a short Google forms survey.  It should only take a few minutes.

Graduate Student Interested in Asian Philosophies (https://forms.gle/RbG51qQS1KimPoTHA)

Faculty Member Interested in Asian Philosophies (https://forms.gle/GWxRjacLNDmRCdY18)

If you have comments or questions feel free to contact Brad Cokelet: bradcokelet[at]ku.edu

How to write a philosophy book - the monograph as laboratory

This is a guest post by Donovan Schaefer, University of Pennsylvania

I’ve always thought writing was strange, and writing a book is the strangest of all. A book project is like building a little planet of words from scratch. It’s disorienting and exhilarating at once.

Common sense says that writing is a transcription of what’s in our heads. But that’s wrong. We write to figure out what we think. It’s a laboratory, not data entry. The intuitions that we have in mind about how pieces of information fit together look different when they’ve taken form in a document. Or, put another way, when we write we realize that our watery sense of how an argument will play out has to be given more definition and structure once it actually hits the page. In this sense, writing is problem-solving.

This is strange enough with an article, but book-length writing takes the dizzying self-surveying of one’s own mind and draws it out in extremis. The book spools out, folds back in on itself, becomes a sort of organism, with the different parts and components demanding to be connected and synced up just so.

This is part of the reason why rewriting existing material (from articles or book chapters) can be a mixed bag. On the one hand, the work is there and done. On the other hand, the milieu of the book changes how the material needs to be oriented. This shift is likely to be subtle rather than major, with each paragraph needing to be brought into alignment with the project of the book (which can’t not be different from the project of the article). I find the re-alignment work of bringing an existing piece of writing into the system of the book is always more than I expect it to be. That isn’t to say it isn’t worth it, but it takes a certain kind of headspace that’s different from writing or even ordinary editing. And the further I am from that initial piece of writing, the more likely I find the reworking taking up a disproportionate amount of time and energy.

As Max Weber writes, “[i]deas occur to us when they please, not when it pleases us. The best ideas do indeed occur to one’s mind in the way in which Ihering describes it: when smoking a cigar on the sofa; or as Helmholtz states of himself with scientific exactitude: when taking a walk on a slowly ascending street; or in a similar way.”

This haunting by one’s own thoughts seems to be proportionate to one’s level of immersion in writing. You feel it with an article, but it goes overboard with a book. Coming up with a system for catching these ideas when they fly by is indispensable for me. I have notepads everywhere I go (including by my bedside). Even if it seems so obvious that I don’t see how I could possibly forget it, I force myself to write it down anyway.

One of the strangest parts of writing a book is that the concentrated writing changes you as a writer even as you’re writing. I find I get a stronger feel for my own style (in that moment), my own limitations, and my own methods as I work. Besides, so much of style is about systematization. A stylistic device used once is a tic, used twice is a motif, and used three times is a statement. Writing long-form lets you build that interior in a way that you can’t with an article.

Moving from renewable lecturer to one-year VAP?

In our most recent "how can we help you?" thread, a reader writes:

Is there is a situation in which it makes sense to leave a potentially renewable lecturer position with pretty bad pay for a better VAP position with much better pay?

Is the renewability factor too important to give up for the one year, non-renewable position that pays much better?

I'd be curious to hear what everyone else thinks, but here's my answer. Absent extenuating circumstances (e.g. the lecturer salary being too low to live a decent lifestyle, adequately support one's family, etc.), the renewable lecturer position seems the better bet. I spent seven years on the academic job-market, and for me time made all of the difference. I was lucky to be in a renewable non-TT position that I could stay in that entire time. Had I been in a one or two-year position, I doubt I would have been able to stay on the market as long as I did--which again, was as long as I ended up needing to get a tenure-track job. On the other hand, if the lecturer salary is really low (and one really cannot fathom remaining in that kind of situation long-term), then maybe rolling the dice with the VAP makes sense.

What do you all think? It might be helpful to hear more detail from the relevant reader to orient the discussion, as well.

Taking time away from research

In our most recent "how can we help you?" thread, Ash writes:

I'm not sure if you've covered this already, but.... When do you think a person is "allowed" to take time away from research? My list of papers-in-progress is long and so I more or less always think I should be working on one of them, whenever I have a spare moment (i.e. a moment not devoted to fulfilling other obligations). But right now I have a couple of hours to kill and yet I'm not doing research. I'm tired. I have a young child. I had 4 campus visits this semester and each one was fatiguing to prepare for and to go through. I'm teaching (albeit with a light load). 
How do you decide when to rest and when to push through?

These are great questions, ones I have asked myself from time to time. In fact, I would be very interested to hear answers to them, as I haven't been able to answer them well myself.