The Philosophers' Cocoon

On Prioritizing and Getting Stuff Done

Sorry for posting so sporadically lately. It's partly that I've been insanely busy, but also partly due to my first bout with blog writers block (or "bloggers bloq", if I may coin a new term!). Anyway, although I've been swamped -- with term papers, job applications, an R-n-R, etc -- on one of my momentary breaks today I got to thinking about prioritizing and getting stuff done. 

I actually had an interesting, albeit brief conversation with Fritz Allhoff about this a couple of weeks ago. We were talking about how, the longer one goes on in academia, the more one ends us doing, and how one's graduate school self would be quite in awe of how much one does as as a faculty member. (Fritz, of course, does an insane amount of stuff. He publishes lots, runs a journal, and many other things to boot!).

Anyway, I got to thinking about our conversation today, and about how I've been dealing with having so much to do. Because I think I've learned some good habits here -- habits I didn't have as a grad student -- I figured I'd share some of them with you, and solicit you all to share your own "getting stuff done" strategies with the community.

Anyway, here goes. My first strategy is to chip away a little bit of everything each day.  Here, for instance, is how I've gone about my business today. Woke up, got to the dog park around 8:30. Worked on a lecture on Locke for my intro class until about 10:00. Graded a term-paper. Polished up a cover letter, and sent out a job application. Graded another term-paper. Finished my Locke lecture. Graded a term-paper. Ate lunch. Polished up another cover letter and sent out a job appliation. Started revising an old a lecture on Aristotle for my ancient class. Took a break after an hour. Graded a paper. Polished another cover letter and sent out a job app. 

Basically, the only one of my pressing projects I haven't chipped away at today is the paper I need to revise for my current R-n-R. I'm a little bummed I haven't been able to get to it today, but it's okay because I have a few months to do it and have worked it into my schedule on most days (where, again, I just try to chip away at a little bit at a time. Last week, I made sure I got one section done.  This week my aim to get a second out of the way).

Anyway, let me briefly explain why I think this "chipping everything" strategy is useful. The basic rationale is simple. If you chip away at everything a little bit each day, stuff doesn't pile up. If, say, I had focused today only on getting lectures today, or grading, or whatever, the other stuff would have piled up. And that's not good.  Another nice side-effect of the strategy is that you don't get too sick of anything. Grading a pile of papers is awful. Doing one paper, then moving onto something else (a lecture, whatever), then grading another paper, then moving onto something else, etc., is way better. You slowly get things done without the soul-crushing experience of doing the task all at once (variety keeps you decently happy - it sure has today!).

Here's a second strategy I've happened upon (and then I'll stop): focus on "easy" things first, and get them done, while working in "hard" things. Let me explain. The other friday I was working on my RnR paper first thing in the morning for a few hours and getting nowhere. This bugged me. I had wasted two hours I could have spent doing something "easy" and more productive, such as grading, writing lectures, etc. In the past, I would have let the RnR derail me from stuff, and I would have wasted another, say, four hours toiling away at it (not getting other stuff done). Instead, last Friday, I set it aside, did a bunch of easy stuff (grading, lectures), and then came back to it (the "hard" thing) later on at the end of the day, and actually got lots on it done. It's amazing what stepping way from difficult things can do, especially if you get "easy" stuff done in between. So, I say, do that. When you run into a wall with something -- a paper, whatever -- set it aside, get something "easy" done, and come back. That way, you'll at least get a bunch of easy but necessary projects done during the day, while still giving yourself ample time to working on a tougher project. Far better than getting derailed on the tough project half the day!

Anyway, these are just some tips. I have no idea if any of you will find them helpful -- though I hope some of you do! ;)  Anyone else have any getting-stuff-done tips they want to share?

Looking for the keys, identity and the problem of a trinitarian God

Defending the idea of a Trinitarian God is such a difficult task, that I am almost sure I would never try. Nonetheless, I can sympathise with theologians and philosophers who have tried to make sense of this conundrum.

The main problem involved is how to avoid the Scylla of Tritheism (i.e., believing in three distinct gods) and the Charybdis of self contradiction (when one claims that the Father is a different person than the Son, but that the Father is the same God as the Son).

One way to try to solve the problem is to deny that "being the same God as" implies identity. Authors like Peter Geach have tried to claim that there is no absolute identity and only "relative identity". This is an interesting idea, but it is hard to agree with it whenever one comes to our worldly experience (are we really ready to say that the fact that "The sunglasses I found in my bag are the same ones I have been looking for in my room" does not imply absolute identity between the two?). If, as suggested by Peter van Inwagen, relative identity only applies to particular cases, e.g., to God, then it is easy to rebut that the theory is only an ad hoc postulation.

Another solution would be social trinitarism, i.e., the idea that unity among the three persons of the Trinity exists only in a social way. Social trinitarism has been explained in different ways, e.g., as entailing that the unity of three persons of the Trinity is tantamount to their mutual love. However, it is hard to imagine a social unity which does not, at the same time, affirm an ontological distinction, so that the risk of tritheism is strong.

What else is left? Trenton Merricks (disregarding Moti's suggestion) uses a thought experiment by Derek Parfit to claim that brain bisection does not entail the creation of two distinct persons. Empirically speaking, brain bisection does now produce individuals whose left side ignores what happens in the right one and vice versa, so that one might be inclined to see them as two distinct persons, but, claims Parfit, this is not necessarily the case (in Kant's terminology, the fact that two persons seem to be there is not an apodictic judgement). For instance, one might have a device to block communication from one's hemispheres at wish and it would be difficult to claim that one person is created or destroyed each time. Instead, brain bisection "divides the consciousness of a single person", creating "two spheres of consciousness" (Merricks p. 310).

Similarly, Merricks continues, God, who is a disembodied soul, has distinct spheres of consciousness, though no brain. He (or She) is one substance, but three spheres of consciousness. The thesis has some explanatory advantages, since through it one can make sense of New-Testament passages where the Son speaks with the Father and seems to ignore what the Father does already know. Similarly, one might think that the Father has no complete experience of what it is to have a body, since He never had one. But what about the Holy Spirit? What would be His/Her/Its distinct sphere of consciousness?

More in general, is there any other way to lose the conundrum without going back to some (odd) metaphysical assumption? What do philosophers of religion on the Cocoon think?

(Peter Geach, Logic Matters, 1972
Trenton Merricks, Split Brains and the Godhead, 2006
Derek Parfit, Reasons and Persons, 1984
Peter van Inwagen, And yet there are not three Gods but one, 1995)

New Contributor

I am happy to welcome our newest contributor, Elisa Freschi. Elisa is a faculty member in the Institute for the Cultural and Intellectual History of Asia at the Austrian Academy of Sciences. Her research focuses on Indian philosophy, and comparative philosophy, epistemology, philosophy of religion, and philosophy of language. She has published numerous articles and has a 2012 book entitled Duty, language and exegesis in Prābhākara Mīmāṃsā: Including an edition and translation of Rāmānujācārya's Tantrarahasya, Śāstraprameyapariccheda. She also has a very interesting blog on thinking through Sanskrit and philosophy. 

Welcome!

The Submission Dilemma

So I run into a dilemma quite a lot when I'm thinking of where to submit papers, and I wonder how other people approach it.

The dilemma is simple. Suppose you have a paper that you think will make an important contribution to the discipline (I trust many of us feel this way about many of our papers - so let's set aside the question of whether one is right). Chances are, of course, that you've spent a great deal of time on the paper. And so now you are thinking of where to submit it.

On the one hand, you can shoot for top-ranked journals. Of course, if you do, chances are it will get rejected, and it may bounce around the review process for a couple of years (4 months at, say, Nous, then six months at Phil Review, etc.). During that time, there's a significant chance you will get "scooped" (i.e. someone will publish a similar idea/argument before you have the chance). I say there's a significant chance of this happening, because, well, I've been scooped several times now, and it just has to happen a lot (at any given point in time, there are almost surely going to be other people thinking similar thoughts!).

On the other hand, you can shoot for lower-ranked journals. Chances are, if you go this route, you won't get scooped. You'll likely get your idea into print relatively quickly (at least if it's any good), because lower-ranked journals have higher acceptance rates. Unfortunately, if you publish it in a lower-ranked journal, several bad things can come of it: (A) the piece will get ignored, (B) you'll have/add-to your track record of publishing in lower-ranked journals (which can detract from your philosophical reputation, to whatever extent you have one).

In other words, there are real risks whichever way you go. If you spend all of your time shooting for top-ranked journals, you may find yourself getting scooped on some really good ideas (an awful result), but you may hit it big. On the other hand, if you shoot for lower-ranked journals, you probably won't get scooped nearly as often (you'll at least get your ideas out in print), but you may fail to build a good publishing reputation.

How do people approach the issue? For my part, I basically play it by ear. Sometimes I send stuff to top journals, sometimes I don't. In just about every case, though, I find myself concerned about the decision. I worry that if I send the piece in question to top-places, it'll probably just bounce around for a year or two and someone else will publish on it first. On the other hand, I worry that if I send it to a lower-ranked journal...it'll be published in a lower-ranked journal.

How do people deal with the issue? Just curious!

Bleg: Upper-Level Course on Justice

Hi everyone, I have to get my book orders in during the next couple of weeks, and I'm struggling with deciding on what to order for an upper-level undergraduate course on justice. I taught the course a couple of years back, but wasn't very happy with the texts I selected. Does anyone have a syllabus for a course like this that they thought worked particularly well that they would be willing to share? If so, I'd be very appreciative (my email is [email protected]). Alternatively, if anyone is willing to share some of the texts/articles they assigned in the comments section here, that would be great too! 

Many thanks in advance to anyone and everyone willing to help out! :)

It's a Wrap! The First Annual Philosopher' Cocoon Philosophy Conference

The First Annual Philosophers' Cocoon Conference (PCPC) just concluded, and I'm happy to report that it was a wonderful conference: great people, excellent talks, fun discussion, and an awesome, supportive environment!  I'd like to thank everyone involved for helping to make it what it was -- specifically (and in no particular order):

• Michael Pressman (USC)
• Myisha Cherry (John Jay College)
• Erin Taylor (Cornell)
• Anthony Reeves (SUNY-Binghamton)
• Karina Vold (McGill)
• Joshua Mugg (York University)
• Martin Vacek (Slovak Academy of Sciences)
• Jonah Goldwater (University of South Florida)
• Moti Mizrahi (St. John's University)
• David Morrow (University of Alabama at Birmingham)
• Omri Ben-Zvi (Hebrew University of Jerusalem Law School)
• Nathan Hanna (Drexel)
• Casey Doyle (Pitt)
• Monica Link (Tufts)
• Andrew Y. Lee (NYU)
• Christopher Tomaszewski (UConn-Storrs)
• David Pena-Guzman (Emory)
• Stephen Bero (USC)
• Griffin Klemick (Northern Illinois)
• Jason Chen (St. Louis University)
• Jiewuh Song (Goethe University Frankfurt)
• Dan Threet (Georgetown)

It was a pleasure to meet and spend the weekend talking philosophy with all of you! Travel safely, and I hope to see you next year at the 2nd Annual event. For those of you who weren't here, here are just a few pictures of the fun you missed (sadly, I forgot to take pictures of dinner and drink festivities) -- and don't forget to keep an eye out for the CFP for next year's conference!

Underappreciated Job Market Secrets?

Now that the job market is in full swing, I thought it might be good to ask those of our readers who have either (A) been successful in the market, or (B) served on the other side of it (as search-committee members), to share any "unexpected" or otherwise underappreciated tips they might have for doing well. Anyone have any to share?

A Petition for Philosophy in Irish Secondary Schools

Steven Lydon, a PhD student in german literature studies at Harvard, has asked me to share this petition he is circulating in favor of introducing philosophy as a required subject of study in Irish secondary schools. Please do check it out!

Gateway Graduate Conference CFP

Journal rejections are not your enemy

I've raised worries before about the peer-review process, but after several years of experience and thought -- and a particular experience I had this week (more on this below) -- I think I've come to an important piece of understanding: journal rejections, in general, are your friend, not your enemy. Let me explain.

It's natural to get disappointed when you get a rejection. Sometimes the rejections are unfair. The system is far from perfect. We all know that. But let me tell you a story...I've written before about a paper I've had bouncing around at different journals for several years now. I've gone though periods of intense frustration with it, as I've been told by many people that it's a great project, etc. -- and I had sort of chalked up my difficulties to bad luck. I've had reviews that I thought were unfair, I felt pretty certain I had the paper right, and that it was just going to take the right two reviewers to get the piece accepted.

The thing is, I learned recently (from a couple of awesome reviewers) that the paper wasn't right. I think it's very close, but not there quite yet. And I think I finally know what it will take to finally get it to where it needs to be. And it occurred to me, just like that: I have learned a ton from the process. Yes, some reviews are unfair; and yes, it's hard to stomach disappointment after disappointment. Still, for all that, I feel like the process has served an important purpose: it has helped me improve my work, and as a philosopher. And I am thankful for that. Each rejection is another chance to get things right. And I am thankful for that, too. 

On Defining "Success"

I wrote a post the other day on why I think it can be a good idea to take some time off the job market, if one can afford to do so. My claim was: my personal experience was that a year or two off can help one develop as a philosopher, teacher, and human being. To this, Rachel and Helen both suggested (rightly, I think) that taking time off for these reasons can be very risky, at least in terms of landing a tenure-track job. I agree. However, I would like to explain just why I think it can be a risk worth taking.

Rachel's and Helent's comments got me thinking -- along with an experience I had this morning at breakfast -- about defining "success." The operating assumption in most discussions about the job market seems to be that one should always -- or at least generally -- do what is likely to put oneself in the best position possible to get a tenure-track position. Indeed, when I come across blogs on the job market, this is what the discussions are mostly about: strategy. Why?

As one commenter over at this post at the Smoker points out:

When I was on the market years ago, my adviser sketched out what he thought was the standard for success. "Get a tenure track job, then get tenure." That's what I was told success was. No requirements concerning the kind of school or location though. Is this the vision most people in our discipline have for 'success'?

People tend to focus on strategy, in other words, because people in our profession tend to define "success" as obtaining a tenure-track job.  But, while at first glance this might seem rational -- and while I want a tenure-track job myself -- I am not at all convinced that it is rational for everyone. Let me explain why.

I woke up this morning and realized I absolutely love what I do. I am doing philosophy that I believe is important (important by my lights, at any rate!). I am teaching in a way that I believe is good, and which results in real development and understanding in students who otherwise might be disengaged or lack any philosophical understanding. I can't wait to get up in the morning.

Why? The short answer is: because I haven't made getting a tenure-track job the be-all and end-all of my existence. Yes, it is important to me; and yes, I do try to (mostly) make prudent decisions in terms of putting myself in a good position to get a TT job. However, that being said, I have also chosen to take certain risks because, in my judgment, those risks promised me something of great importance. I know people who have non-tt jobs who are miserable.  I know people who have tenure-track jobs and are miserable. I know people who find no joy in their research, teaching, or university service.

Maybe, of course, these risks won't "work out" for me in the end. Maybe I'll end up disappointed, without a tenure-track job. It is possible, I understand that. But I "played it safe" for far too long in grad school, and that didn't work out for me very well. I lost the joy I had for philosophy, and I didn't do great work -- and I feel like I only started to flourish, as a researcher, teacher, colleague, and human being the less I thought about the job market and the more I just dedicated myself to doing these things well, and in a way that is "true" to who I am as a philosopher, for their own sake.

And so I guess that's what I want to convey. Job-market strategy is undeniably important. But it's not the only thing that matters, nor, in some cases, is it obvious to me that it should even be one's dominant concern. There are risks in everything. If getting a TT job is your dominant concern, there are risks with that come with that: you may get a TT job but not be happy; or you might not get a TT job and wish you had been more "true to yourself." The question, as I like to put it, is this: what risks are you prepared to take? I've always thought: if I develop myself into the best philosopher, teacher, and colleague I can be, I have faith that there will be at least one search committee out there who will recognize it. And if not, at least I will be able to sleep at night knowing I gave it my best, as the philosopher, teacher, and human being I wanted to be, rather than one I thought I should be merely for the sake of strategy.

I imagine some will say, "That all sounds well and good to you now...but if you never get a TT job you will wish you had prioritized strategy." To which I say: I do prioritize strategy, and I wholeheartedly advocate taking intelligent steps to do well on the job market. My point has only been that, given that there are risks in everything, sometimes it can make sense to take a few risks on strategy, since those risks can result in important things (like loving what you do, being true to yourself as a philosopher, and developing into the best philosopher, teacher, and colleague you can be)!

A Teaching Strategy

We all know how difficult it is to get undergraduates to write good papers. I've come across one directive that I've found works like a charm, and thought I would share it with you all. In my experience, of all the bad habits it is difficult to get undergraduates to break, it is the practice of "having their mind made up" about their thesis and trying to "defend" it all costs, regardless of whether their argument is absolutely terrible. Oftentimes, this results in them just stating their opinion. (I assume readers have had this experience. Am I right?).

Anyway, here's something I stumbled on a while back: tell students not to go into the paper with a thesis, but instead regard writing the paper as a process of discovering their thesis. Here's what I tell them: 

• Figure out which course topic interests you.
• Summarize whatever argument on that topic you are most interested in, but feel there's something wrong with.
• Write out the best objections you can to the argument.
• Write out the best replies you can to those objections.
• Keep reasoning through both the objections and replies until you make a case to your reader for one conclusion or another.
• It's only at that point that you know what your thesis is, and it is only then that you should go back and write your introduction, stating your thesis.

Again, it's not foolproof, but I find it really works. It prevents students from doing what comes most naturally to them: simply stating their opinion. It gets them to "forget" about what they want to argue and instead see where the arguments lead! And that is a good thing. :)

Keep Calm and Carry On

Now that I've sent off my first couple of job applications, which was something of a deja vu experience (given that I've now been on the market a few times), I wanted to follow-up on a comment I made in reply to Matt DeStefano's recent post on dealing with uncertainty.

The entire job market process -- putting together/revising one's dossier, writing cover letters, submitting applications, waiting to hear back, finding out that schools you thought you had a good chance with are already interviewing (and haven't chosen you), interviews, on-campus visits, etc. -- is really quite grueling.  Having done it before, I have one piece of advice: try, as far as possible, to just go one with life as normal.  If there's a job wiki posting which schools have set up interviews, ignore it. If you get interviews, don't get carried away with speculating about what it would be like to get the job. You shouldn't do these things for one simple reason: you're just setting yourself up for a bunch of unnecessary worry and heartache.  The fact is, once you submit your application, checking a job wiki 58 times a day is not going to change anything. It'll just make you feel bad when you see schools interviewing people other than you. Similarly, stressing over what it would be like for you and your partner to be separated by distance if you got the job you interviewed for is just a waste of time and energy.

Over at the Smoker, Mr. Zero states that his "problem is hope." At the risk of sounding too much like a Stoic, I think it is a problem in this case, and one avoided as much as possible. Try not to hope too much, try not to check job wikis, try not to speculate on what that job would be like if the interview goes well. All any of this does is up the pressure you put on yourself. Try -- and I know it can be difficult, but seriously, just try, as far as you can -- to keep calm and carry on, doing your research, your teaching, and living your everyday life.  Your spouse or partner, your colleagues, and you will all be much better off. 

Anyway, now that application deadlines are coming due, I just wanted to wish all of you on the market once again the best possible luck. Unless of course you getting the best possible luck conflicts with me getting the best possible luck, in which case I don't wish you the best possible luck, but would be happy for you nonetheless if you got it. ;)