On asking for help

This post is something of a follow-up to my recent post on Brian Leiter's discussion (and comment thread) regarding grad students and social media. As I explained in my earlier post, my experience has been that many grad students -- for one reason or another -- come to regard the discipline as a whole as a very hostile place: a place where one must always be careful to "avoid saying anything stupid." Now, I'm not entirely sure how common the meme is -- I've seen many confident grad students in my time -- nor am I sure what is responsible for it to the extent that it does exist (grad student anxiety?, professional advice?, etc.). What I do know, however, is this: (1) I have seen numerous grad students plainly affected it, (2) I was certainly affected by it, and finally, (3) the more I go along in my professional life, the more convinced I am that it is harmful. Let me explain.

Throughout most of graduate school -- and I take responsibility for this -- I was "scared to put myself out there." If I was having trouble with something, I tried to figure it out on my own. I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of people -- grad students, faculty, etc. -- who I feared might judge me. And I was by no means alone. Some grad students were confident and open. Those who weren't generally retreated into themselves -- usually, though not always, to bad results.  Why?  In my experience, grad students, for whatever reason, just tend to spread the meme, "Be careful what you say. You don't want to embarrass yourself."

My general experience -- both from personal experience but also watching others (some of whom have gone onto successful lives in academia and some of whom has not) -- is that this meme is harmful almost without fail.  Learning how to be a good philosopher, and more than that a good professional -- a person who can navigate the publishing world, job market, etc. -- takes a lot of help. And if you don't ask for it, you won't get it. You'll kick and thrash trying to keep your head above water wondering why it is so darn hard.

But, in my experience, if this is the reality you face, the real problem is you -- or, at least, that meme you've been carrying around in your head "not to embarrass yourself."  One of the things that I have found so amazing, both about my experience here at the Cocoon and in the profession more broadly, is just how many people are willing to help, if only you ask.  Over the past year and a half, I have asked people -- people at all different levels in the discipine -- for advice on countless things, from questions about what to do and not to on the job market, to publishing questions, etc.. I've asked for people if they would be willing to give me feedback on my papers.  And there have always been people there to lend a hand. And I've seen it happen to others too. You just have to ask.  And -- or so I've seen -- the results of asking for help are tremendous.  The help you do (or do not) receive from people can make all the difference in the world to your work, your dossier, your knowledge of the discipline, your ability to navigate it effectively (and comport yourself properly), and many other things besides.  

Will you sometimes embarrass yourself by making mistakes? Yes. Will some people judge you for them? Probably. But, be that as it may, my experience over the past couple of years -- the more I put that "don't embarrass yourself" meme to rest -- is, overwhelmingly, that our discipline is full of kind, supportive, helpful people who are more than willing to lend a hand; people who will care about you and care that you flourish if only you are open to fearlessly putting yourself out there and express helpful goodwill in return. Every discipline, of course, has some mean, unforgiving people. There is, unfortunately, probably nothing that can ever been done about them -- nothing, perhaps, besides not living for them, or in fear of them.  Live instead with an eye to the good-willed; those who are kind and willing to help. There are more of them than you might think.

Comments

[Rachel]

I think this has much more to do with the inherent nature of the grad student experience where people aren't quite undergrads, but they're not quite faculty. It's a time when nothing is good enough, and people are on edge about what might impact them in an extremely competitive job market.

The truth is, and this came up over on NewAPPS at least a few times, you have to put yourself out there. You can't just be 'average' and not have a personality. Take risks. Sometimes they'll blow up in your face, but even those usually aren't *that* bad.

I remember my time as a grad student. I was essentially the *only* one who regularly ate lunch with the faculty. At first I was afraid to say anything, lest they think I'm stupid or something. Eventually, I just integrated and became one of the gang...taking it as much as giving it back. Sure I said a few stupid things here and there. But guess what: *people* stay stupid things now and again, even faculty. It happens. Get over it. You're more likely to be remembered for your positive contributions than your negative ones (provided there are enough positive ones).

Of course, this entails that you don't say racist, homophobic, transphobic, etc etc things. Those might stick, and rightly so.

[K]

Pardon the tone of this comment, but it strikes me that the last sentence of the previous comment is quite important. Marcus is certainly right, in my opinion, to recommend taking risks and put oneself "out there." But in my own experience, one should only do so with regard to inconsequential things. Be bold when it comes to your intuitions about possible worlds, free will, or the nature of the a priori.

But I think that graduate students and the untenured would be well advised to worry what might be in the "etc etc" of Rachel's comment. If you hold the wrong views about Ayn Rand, Colin McGinn, Leo Strauss, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, homosexual marriage, race, capitalism, the American immigration debate, evangelical Christianity, or any of a hundred other important issues today, I can't imagine you would want to put yourself out there. There is no amount of philosophical skill or personal kindness that will compensate for the wrong view on such an issue. There is no argument that will make you seem like a respectable person (and I know from insider experience it will harm your publishing career).

So by all means, take a chance on disseminating your view of the theory of universals, but do not say the wrong thing about universal health care.

[eyeyethink]

Hi Marcus,
Your experience sounds like a contrast from this recent Leiter post:

http://leiterreports.typepad.com/blog/2013/07/unreliable-philosophers.html

Would you say that your experience has been genuinely different, or is it a case of half full vs half empty?

[Marcus Arvan]

K: really good point. I meant: be bold and take *philosophical* risks, and "put yourself out there" in the sense of "don't be afraid to ask for help." I am full agreement that it can be bad to go around taking risks on announcing one's views about current events or matters of public policy (provided, at least, one isn't defending those views in print -- which is another matter).

Eyeyethink: thanks for your comment. Well, I agree with the point in the Leiter post that people can be unreliable and lazy. My point is that, more often than not, there are many people who are *wiling* to help, if only you ask. While getting them off their bums to do can be difficult sometimes, my experience is that with some prodding, most people will follow through on their commitments.