When should one give up? And what should we encourage?

The Cocoon's Long Journeys series and my post, "How can grad programs best prepare students for the long haul", gave rise to some animated and ongoing discussion about (a) whether we should discourage people from trying enter into the profession (i.e. discourage people from going to grad school in philosophy), (b) how long PhDs should stay on the market before giving up, (c) whether our Long Journeys series is wrongly encouraging people to stay on the market, and more broadly, (d) whether we should be encouraging people to stay on the market or give up.

As someone who received my BA all the way back in 1998, started grad school in 1999, received my Phd in 2008, and finally obtained a tenure track job in 2015 after 7 years on the market (and 16 years after starting graduate school), these issues resonate with me personally. There were many times--both during my struggles in grad school and my struggles as a Visiting Assistant Professor--when I regretted ever going into philosophy, and several times over the years I came very close to giving up (at one point, I looked very seriously into career opportunities outside of the academy). And of course, as recent discussions here and elsewhere indicate, I am far from alone. 

With this bit of background, I'd like to offer up some thoughts on the four issues mentioned at the outset of this post.

With respect to (a), I think we should discourage people from entering into the profession, where by "discourage" I mean giving prospective grad students the fullest and most frank information we can about the profession. When my students come to me saying they are thinking of grad school, I not only give them the brutal data on the academic job market and info on the adjunctification of higher education; I also talk frankly about just how difficult--and tenuous--my own path was to becoming their professor. I was given such a talk by my undergraduate advisor, Dan Dennett, and although I didn't actually listen to him, I never felt "lied to" by the profession because, even though I was young and naive, I always felt like I knew what I was getting into. More importantly, I've seen such frank talk work. I've had a number of talented students express interest in going to grad school for philosophy--but once I showed them the job data and talked about my own experience, most of them changed their minds pretty much on the spot. They made an informed decision--a decision not to enter the profession, based on good information.

Let us now turn to issue (b)--that is, how long one should stay on the market before giving up. In the comments section of my recent post on how grad programs can best prepare their students for the long haul, "Lady Professor" writes, "If you haven't gotten a TT job, quit and do something else with your life! There is a whole world out there!" I think that blanket statements like this are unjustified, and that how long one should stay on the market is a deeply personal question, the rationality and morality of which are highly case-specific, depending on context. In my own case, I stayed on the market for seven years because (1) I was in a relatively stable, decently compensated temporary position (a VAP), (2) I kept doing "better" on the market year by year, getting more interviews and flyouts each year, (3) my staying on the market wasn't setting back my wife's career, and (4) my wife gave me her blessing and support each year (though we both did agree that it would be unfair to both of us for me to continue trying much longer). In short, my wife and I agreed that it made sense to not give up yet because I seemed to be getting closer to my goal, and we agreed (for the time being) that it was fair to us, and our relationship, to keep trying for a few years.

Other situations are different. If one's performance on the market doesn't improve (if your number of interviews and fly-outs is not on the upswing), if one is in a position of extreme financial hardship, if staying on the market is harming one's marriage or family, is unfair to one's spouse or children, etc., then of course it can make sense to give up. In short, I think whether one should give up really depends on one's situation, and that as long as one is honest with and fair to oneself and one's loved ones, the question of whether it is rational (and moral) to soldier on is a personal question.

Which brings me to issue (c): is our Long Journey's series wrongly encouraging people to stay on the market? Here again, Lady Professor advanced some strong views:

Giving students false hopes or strategies for success for a multi year search is irresponsible.

I don't think encouraging people to stay on the job market for multiple years is a kind or supportive recommendation. People in that situation need more encouragement to leave than to stay. Because it isn't going to have a happy ending for most. And there is plenty of interesting and important work that one can do outside the academy.

As I explained in that earlier post, I don't think we are encouraging people to stay on the market here at the Cocoon. Our Long Journeys series merely aims to provide a full, honest picture of the hazards and possibilities of remaining on the market--and, as we see in the following comment by "Ambivalent PhD" here, our series seems to have discouraged at least one person enough so as to plan better for a "Plan B":

Thank you so much for sharing - I'm going into the second year of my PhD and starting to consider working on back up plans after seeing the experiences of early career researchers around me.

More to the point, I think that in order to evaluate whether our series is wrongly encouraging people to stay on the market, we need to answer question (d): the question of whether we should be encouraging people to stay on the market or give up. I think this question warrants a nuanced answer. Indeed, there are really two issues here: (1) whether we should encourage/discourage people publicly, and (2) whether we should encourage/discourage people privately.

When it comes to public discussion, I think we owe people neither encouragement nor discouragement: we owe each other a full, open, frank discussion of the facts and issues, including the question of who should give up, when, and why (which is what posts like this one aim to do). The reason I don't think we should go further than this--the reason why I don't think we should encourage or discourage "people" (in the plural) is simple: each person, and each person's situation is different. Some people should probably give up--and the facts may lead them to give up or seek a Plan B. But other people--people who are doing better and better on the market by the year, whose families support them, etc.--do not deserve discouragement. Telling them publicly that "they should quit, because few stories turn out well", isn't kind or justified: it is diminishes them as a person, for again, these candidates may have good reasons to continue on. They mightn't be the usual case, but they are a relevant case.

Similarly, when it comes to private discussions of whether a person should quit, on the other hand, I think once again we should be sensitive to a person's situation. If you know a person who is in a low-paying temporary job, not getting many interviews, is miserable, and whose relationships are suffering, it may well make sense to have a frank talk with the person as a friend, telling them why, in your view, they are being unfair to themselves and/or others by not quitting. On the other hand, if you are engaging with a person whose performance has been improving on the market, who isn't "beaten down" yet, and who is managing to maintain good relationships and a physically and mentally healthy situation, then encouraging them to quit, once again, seems to me precisely the wrong thing to do. It wouldn't have been kind (or epistemically justified) to encourage me to quit when I was on the market, for--although it was very hard at times--I had good reasons to keep on going, as well as the support of my loved ones.

Long story short, aside from the first issue this post is about--discouraging people from attempting to enter the profession to begin with (which I think we should do)--I think we should avoid answering the three other issues this post is about with overly broad pronouncements about what people should and should not do. The fact is, there are a lot of different types of job candidates, with different personal and professional situations, their own values, their own families, etc. Some people should probably give up, others should probably not, and for others still it's probably unclear what they should do--and the decision should be up to them. Similarly, some people should probably be encouraged to give up, others encouraged and supported, and others still engaged with in personal discussion about what is best for them, given the full reality of their situation. Given that we are all individuals, each with our own situation, the responsible thing--or so it seems to me--is to be sensitive to these differences, discussing carefully, both publicly and privately, the nuances of different types of situations, and what makes sense (e.g. soldiering on or quitting) given one's actual situation.

Anyway, that's what I think--and I'm happy to open it up for discussion. What do you think? When should someone continue on the market? When should someone stop? When should we encourage people? When should we discourage them? I expect there are more than a few people out there who might benefit from an open, nuanced discussion!

Comments

[Eugene]

Hi Marcus,

I agree with you that "we should discourage people from entering into the profession, where by "discourage" I mean giving prospective grad students the fullest and most frank information we can about the profession." However, I'm not sure this kind of discouragement goes far enough, for at least two reasons.

First, many people deciding on graduate school are often too young to appreciate just how long the odds really are - especially since those students even considering graduate school are likely to have earned high marks as undergraduates and hence think to themselves that they can buck the trends. Or so at least I thought I could do so. Second, graduate school is often - to put it in terms that a lot of people seem to like these days - transformative. Since it is so hard to ignore the bleak reality of the job market during graduate school, graduate students in philosophy are exposed to really damaging levels of anxiety for about half a decade. Had I anticipated the kind of pessimism that graduate school might engender, I'm not sure I would have pursued it. I, for one, am just not sure I like the person that I've become. So, it might be worth mentioning this sort of stuff in addition to the numbers.

[anon]

On balance, I would not want to encourage or discourage anyone from going into philosophy. I'd want them to have full information about what the discipline is like, what the prospects are of getting a job (and where and after how long) and then let them make an informed decision about what's best for them.

And unfortunately, I think the current situation is that most prospective grad students and current grad students lack a full picture of their career prospects. An open and honest presentation of these facts is something the APA and the profession as a whole should encourage (and I believe Jennings' project on placement data to be a great first step in that direction).

One respect in which current placement tracking efforts might be supplemented is by tracking total numbers of offers for candidates who receive one or more offers. Obviously, successful candidates don't broadly publicize how many other offers they turned down, so grad students frequently manage to remain ignorant of the fact that it is exceptionally rare for a successful candidate to get more than one or two offers. Or at least, I think it is exceptionally rare.

If, as I suspect, it is extremely rare for candidates to get several offers, this is another important fact about the market that prospective professional philosophers should be aware of. Choosing a career in philosophy will likely dramatically constrain their options about where to live, what kind of institution to work in, and what to teach--even if they wind up with a job offer or two.

[Lady Professor]

Hello Marcus,
I'm sure you are exceptionally well intentioned; you seem like one of the most earnest people in philosophy. But I think you are blind to certain facts about the job market and human nature.

First off, I think the job situation is going to get worse. You may have read the recent news reports about Rider University in New Jersey cutting a number of programs, including philosophy. If you do any reading about the financial situation of the country's colleges and universities, you will see that we are in for a very bumpy ride. One professor of buisness at Harvard has predicted half of the colleges and universities in the country will be in financial crisis in the next 15 years. Even those who land a job may not be able to keep it over the next two decades. Before accepting a job and banking on a life long career at some institution, people may want to look closely at the institution's endowment and financial health.

Second, most people find it exceptionally hard to walk away from the search for an academic job. There are just too many pressures put on people to "give it another year." Sure, job seekers are adults, and some might make the decision to stay and do so for good reasons, but under circumstances where the future is bleak but almost everything in the person's life is giving them reason to stay, the responsible thing for tenure track academics to do is to point out good reasons to leave. Being a phosophy professor is great in all sorts of ways, but there are a number of non academic careers which are just as great, but also come with higher saleries and more geographic freedom.

There are many good reasons to leave and find something else to do, but the longer one stays on the adjunct or VAP track, the higher one's opportunity cost.

[blaarg]

Marcus and lady professor both have good points.

I agree with Marcus that everyone's situation is different. If one is getting more interviews every year, has a stable VAP, has a supportive wife, and has a mind that can cope with the constant uncertainty, then staying on another year might make sense. Whereas if one isn't getting any interviews, is struggling with depression, and etc, then one should probably drop out.

I agree with Lady that the job market is probably going to get worse. We already know that there have been less tenure track jobs posted on philjobs every year the last three years. We know the situation is worse now than before 08. We know that there is a huge student loan bubble, over a trillion dollars. I've read that a substantial percentage of students are behind on payments. We know that the adjunct and admin bloat trends are against us. The future of the university seems to be one where there are no tenure track jobs at all or at least very few.

Further research will tell you that the world economy is struggling. Commodity prices have collapsed, many countries are in recession (including Canada). The job situation in the United States isn't what the government tells you. Labor force participation is at 1970s levels (when most women didn't work). The jobs created are mainly low paying jobs. In the last jobs report Friday, it was revealed that all the jobs were for 55 and over. The 25-55 age group lost jobs.

Putting all this together strongly suggests that the number of permanent jobs in philosophy will decrease year after year for the foreseeable future.

Keeping all this in mind, I think it does make sense to tell young students that they should not pursue a PhD in philosophy, unless these conditions are met:

1. They get into a top 10 program.

2. They have an upper class background. So, their parents can support them while on the job market or pay for further education if no jobs are found.

3. They really love philosophy and cannot imagine doing anything else.

[Jonathan]

"One respect in which current placement tracking efforts might be supplemented is by tracking total numbers of offers for candidates who receive one or more offers."

Berkeley does this:
https://philosophy.berkeley.edu/graduate/placement

[Derek Bowman]

Re: blaarg

"[U]nless... 3. They really love philosophy and cannot imagine doing anything else."

Those are the *last* people that we should encourage to go into a career in philosophy. If you can't imagine doing something else with your life, you need to spend some time trying out other options, seeing what the world has to offer, and expanding your imagination. If you can't imagine doing anything else, you probably also can't imagine doing all the things you have to do to (try to) get and keep an academic job.

[blaarg]

Re Derek

I just mean that they've got to really love philosophy. Not knowing what else to do isn't enough of a reason to go to grad school. Putting off having a real job isn't good enough reason to go to grad school. And so on. They've got to really really really love philosophy.

[Marcus Arvan]

Hi Eugene: Thanks for your comment. I mostly agree with you!

Grad school was a transformative experience for me in just the sense you say. It led me at many points to think my earlier self was in no position to make such a fateful decision, and to wish I could go back in time to make a different decision.

But this is precisely why I think we have a duty to be so frank with our students--not just giving them the horrible job-market data, but also our stories, and the stories of others we know. When I not only give my students the data, but tell them how touch and go my own career prospects were--how much luck was involved, how close I came to not making it to where I am today, and how many people I know who wish they never went into philosophy--in my experience almost all of them change their intentions on the spot, deciding not to risk grad school in philosophy.

This happened with several students just this semester, all of whom were talented. I think we can get through to them on the transformative nature of grad school--and that many (if not all) of them can use that information to make the right decision.

[Marcus Arvan]

Hi Lady Professor: Thanks for your kind comment!

Although I could be wrong, I don't think I'm blind to the facts of the market or human nature as your remarks suggest.

First, I agree the market is likely to get worse. But this, in itself, doesn't undermine the argument I make in the original post, which is simply that the rational and moral thing for any *particular* candidate to do--right here, right now--depends immensely on their personal situation; and similarly, that who we should encourage/discourage--right here, right now--should be sensitive to these individual differences.

Second, human nature is not monolithic. I majored in psychology as an undergrad, got a cog sci minor as a PhD student, and my wife is a PhD student in psychology--so I have a pretty good background on the empirical science on this stuff: sunk costs, anchoring, irrational optimism, etc. One thing I know--and which my wife always emphasizes whenever we have a debate about social policy--is that there are significant individual differences on just about every psychological measure one can imagine. The point of my post is that we should be sensitive not only to general features of psychology (e.g. people tend to not to want to give up on something once they've sunk costs into a situation), but also the respects in which people differ (e.g. people can understand when they are in a bad situation, and choose to leave). Indeed, contrary to your concerns that people tend to stay on the market for far too long, I've come across many comments--over at the Smoker in particular--where people who have gone on the market for one or two years say, "This is it, I'm done."

In other words, the very point of my post is that, yes, we should be sensitive to trends--and general features of human nature--but *also* to individual differences, which are real and not to be discounted.

[Marcus Arvan]

Derek: I agree with you that we shouldn't encourage people on those grounds (given the hazards involved). But I do disagree with the thought that people should never pursue a career in philosophy out of love for it, or simply because they truly cannot imagine enjoying anything else as a career.

My love for philosophy was the one saving-grace for my career. I had other jobs before entering to philosophy--and the simple fact is, I did not enjoy any of them. Besides my wife and family, there are only two things in this world that I have ever loved to do: music and philosophy. And because I love them--because I enjoy waking up everyday doing them, whereas due to my nature every other job strikes me as a miserable chore--taking the risk to do philosophy for a living, even if I failed, was worth it for me. I

Similarly, I know people who went into other risky lines of work--professional art, the music industry, etc.--whose love for their craft has been the saving grace for their lives...irrespective of whether they ever succeeded.

I understand this may not be your experience--but it has been mine, and again, I know people in other risky fields who say similar things about their own lives: that despite not succeeding in their risky occupation, they are glad they stuck with it through hardship simply because they truly love it. There is more to this life than the safe path of an office job (or whatever). For some of us, taking the risk to do what we truly love is the only thing that truly makes sense for us. And many of us wouldn't trade it for anything.

All that being said, I don't think "loving philosophy" should be seen as sufficient for taking the risks. As I mention in my comment to Eugene above, I think we should strongly discourage everyone from entering the field, giving them the most stark and frank discussion of the risks possible.

[anon]

Hey Jonathan, Thanks for the Berkeley link. I'm glad they list all offers in placement data and wish other departments would follow their lead on this.

[Derek Bowman]

Marcus,

Thanks for the reply. I agree that love of philosophy can be a reason that, together with a host of other factors, can make it reasonable to choose to take the risks involved with pursuing a career in philosophy. All life choices are risky, and there aren't really any "safe" career paths in today's economy, though some are certainly safer than others.

But I do think there is something especially pernicious about the "only do it if you can't imagine doing anything else" advice. First of all, it puts the focus on the ways in which other jobs feel like a "miserable chore." This leads you to compare the best parts of philosophy with the worst parts of other jobs. It ignores the fact that pursuing (and, if successful, doing) a job in philosophy will also involve many tasks that are miserable chores.

(NB: I think both your job market boot camp and "long haul" series do a good job showing those "miserable chore" aspects of a career in philosophy.)

I think it also encourages a romantic view of the struggles involved with a career. Exploitative working conditions and unreasonable professional expectations then appear as instances of heroic suffering - like an artist starving for her art, a lover making sacrifices for his beloved, or a martyr following a religious calling.

Finally, I think it contributes to both a feeling of desperation helplessness if things aren't working out - if I can't imagine doing anything else, then I don't have any other options.

[Derek Bowman]

I meant to add:

The essay "In the Name of Love" by Miya Tokumitsu is also relevant here. It highlights the pernicious effects of "do what you love" as career advice, both in general, and in academia. (Apparently the essay is now part of a book by the same author: Do What You Love And Other Lies about Success and Happiness)

https://www.jacobinmag.com/2014/01/in-the-name-of-love/