The Secret Lives of Search Committees - Part 21: not acting like a grad student

One thing I remember hearing repeatedly when first going on the academic job market is to "not act like a grad student." Having served on three search committees now, this strikes me as important advice. I've not only heard people on search committees say things like, "X comes across as really green. Y comes across much more as mature professional", the implication being that this is a strike against candidate X and a mark in favor of Y. I've also had my own doubts about candidates on such grounds. As I have mentioned before, the transition from grad student to full-time faculty member is not an easy one. I struggled to make the transition myself, and not everyone makes it effectively (culminating in tenure-denials). Because committees (at least those I've known) want to hire people who are likely to succeed and get tenure, it can be very important to come across as a professional rather than as someone fresh out of grad school. But what is it to "act like a grad student", and how can it be avoided? Allow me to share some thoughts and then open things up for discussion.

In my experience, candidates can come off like grad students both in their application materials and in interviews (including campus visits). As a very rough first pass--and, I think, as a helpful tip--I think the general vibe that candidates give off that leads them "seem like a grad student" or "seem like a professional" can sort of be boiled down to the following schema:

Grad-student mindset: "I need to show I belong."

Professional mindset: "I belong."

Put another way, candidates who come off more as grad students than professionals can give off the vibe of trying too hard. In my experience, this kind of trying too hard often comes off in two ways: (1) self-doubt/self-deprecation, giving the impression that you're not sure you belong as a faculty member, and (2) over-confidence/arrogance, giving off the impression that you're too sure (given your career stage) you belong.

As a side-note--one that I also think may be helpful for job-candidates--I actually think these two tendencies show up not only in academia, but in many other contexts, including romance. While I haven't been out on a date for many years (I'm a happily married man), I distinctly recall two things reflecting poorly on people on dates (myself included, in some cases!): people either seeming "desperate" (viz. lack of self-esteem), or else seeming "full of themselves" (viz. arrogance). In both cases, I actually think the intent of the behavior may be very different than how it is interpreted. The "desperate" person may not really be desperate; they just may be really "into" the person they are on a date with. Similarly, the person who comes across as "arrogant" on a date may not really be arrogant; they may just be trying to draw attention to positive aspects about themselves, presenting themselves as a "catch." Alas, the problem--or so I learned the hard way--is that these things are liable to backfire, not just in romance but on job-markets. For, whatever one's actual motives or intent, it is bad--both in romance and on job-markets--to come across as desperate or arrogant.

Let me now turn to some of the ways candidates can present themselves in these kinds of counterproductive ways. On the one hand, as I think Amanda and others have noted before, a surprising number of candidates come across as arrogant (or bordering on it) in their application materials. The big problem here, in my experience, is talking oneself up--for instance, by talking in one's cover letter about all of the "top-ranked journals" one has published in, and in one's research or teaching statements how "original" and "innovative" one is. As a candidate, I distinctly recall the temptation to do exactly this. It is entirely natural to think, as a candidate, that you need to "impress" search committees by explicitly drawing attention to how awesomely groundbreaking one's research is. The problem is (in my experience), this comes across as trying too hard. Search committee members are not, at the end of the day, interested in candidates' self-commentary (and indeed, some search committee members may not even share a candidate's values when it comes to things like journal rankings). Rather, committees are interested in judging for themselves whether a candidate's work (i.e. their research and teaching) are original, innovative, and all the rest.

A similar problem arises in interviews and on-campus visits. As a candidate, you may think that you need to spend the interview of campus visit convincing people to hire you: by constantly talking about your research, teaching, and so on. The problem is, this can come across either as desperate (viz. "They are trying way too hard to impress") or arrogant ("Wow, they will not stop talking about how great they think they are"), or both. In my experience, search committee members are not looking to be convinced in conversation that you belong: they are looking to see whether you actually belong. And how do you demonstrate that? Answer: by giving a good job-talk and teaching demo, but otherwise acting (e.g. in conversation) like a professional faculty member. And what is that? How do professional faculty members act in ordinary conversation? Here's the answer, at least where I work and the circles I run in: we don't go around "talking ourselves up." Rather, we engage in ordinary chit-chat, express interest in what others are working on, and talk about our own work, etc., to the extent that it comes up naturally in conversation (viz. the other person asking you!).

So, following things I have written elsewhere, here are two general tips I would advise for coming across like a mature professional rather than like a "grad student":

In application materials, avoid "color commentary." Don't tell your reader how amazing your research or teaching are, making assumptions about things you think search committee members value (viz. publishing in top-ranked journals). Instead, simply present your accomplishments ("I have published in peer-reviewed journals including Mind...") and present your research and teaching ("My dissertation does X, Y, and Z, questioning dominant assumption A in the literature and showing how X, Y, and Z should change how we think about Topic B"; "As a teacher, I do X in the classroom for reasons Y"). Whether you are an exciting and innovative researcher should come across in the substance of what you do. As they say in show business, "Show, don't tell!"

In interviews (including on-campus visits), avoid talking about yourself constantly, and when you do talk about yourself, avoid both talking yourself up and talking yourself down (viz. self-deprecation). Express interest in others and in the school. Try to get them talking, following conversational cues, which can both give you important information about what they value (again, search committee members may not value things you might think they do!), as well as lead to a more natural conversation where you just belong rather than try to show that you belong. On a related note, avoid making assumptions about the school you're interviewing at ("I'm so glad to this is a teaching school. I don't like pressure to publish constantly!") or people you're interviewing with (viz. assuming people value journal rankings, etc.). 

In short, to avoid "acting like a grad student", try to set aside the "need to impress" in conversation (although, of course, very much try to impress in your job-talk and teaching demo, by simply doing what you do and doing it well!). The more "at home you seem in your own skin" as a professional--engaging in normal conversation--the less likely you are to come across as desperate or arrogant.  

Or so my experience has been. What has yours been, particularly those of you who have served on search committees? Is "coming across like a grad student" as bad as the conventional wisdom suggests? If so, what in your experience makes someone come off that way, and how can candidates avoid it? I look forward to hearing people's thoughts!

Comments

[Amanda]

I will say that the facebook age doesn't help with any of this. I can't tell how many times I see an academic post something about an award they got, or how much their students love them, etc. that makes me cringe. Truly confident people do not need to brag, as bragging is a means of feeling better about yourself through the external validation of others.

As for the other extreme. I have never understood the grad student attitude to treat professors as you would your high school teacher. We are all adults. Don't treat them much different than you would treat anyone else. Be yourself (of course, if "yourself" is an arrogant doofus then maybe you should work on changing yourself first.)

[Marcus Arvan]

Hi Amanda: great comment. I am mostly in agreement, especially with this: “As for the other extreme. I have never understood the grad student attitude to treat professors as you would your high school teacher. We are all adults. Don't treat them much different than you would treat anyone else.”

I’m not sure this is entirely right for students relating to their own faculty mentors. I’ve known faculty who (rightly or wrongly) expect some amount of deference in the mentoring relationship, and might consider it arrogant for their students to treat them no differently than anyone else. But regardless, I think your comment is right on the mark for the job market. People on the hiring side of things are not looking to hire a “student”. They are looking to hire an equal, at least in my experience - so one is well-advised to relate to them that way: as someone who, if hired, will be a full faculty member just like they are. Of course, it is also a good idea to not be presumptuous (to act as though you know everything, given your early career stage)—but the general sense one wants to convey is that of “being an equal.”

[Amanda]

I agree that most search committees want to hire an equal for all sorts of reasons, like trust to do the job (number one), but also because it is just awkward otherwise.

I was thinking about your no self-deprecating advice. And I think you are right that one should not be self-deprecating in the following sense: "Oh I am just a recent grad I don't know as much as those who are faculty." That will not come off well. But I do think you can be self-deprecating in other senses. For example, if during a talk you make a comment about your tendency to lose your car keys, or your need to drink coffee, etc. I think that is okay, and can be charming. But if you are not a natural, it is probably best to just go on the safe side and avoid self-deprecating comments all together.

As for the students and faculty - you need to be a good judge of character. It is true that some faculty might want a certain degree of deference from grad students. But in my experience most grads air way too far as treating their professors as if they were still undergrads, rather than a junior colleague. (which grad students really are.)

[ichikawa]

I agree with Marcus's advice here.

I disagree with Amanda's remarks on 'bragging' on social media. I welcome good news from the colleagues and friends I follow on facebook. I am interested to know about their publications and grants and awards, and I'm glad that they choose to share their moving positive student feedback with me. I hope they keep it coming.

(Don't talk about your favourite student comments at your job visit. But please do talk about them on facebook.)

[Recent grad]

I agree with Amanda. I'm on academia.edu and philpapers/philpeople, so I can know about the successes of friends and colleagues pretty easily without having to read about it on Facebook.

[Amanda]

I don't know what "selected" comments mean in any circumstance. Everyone has good student eval comments. If someone feels the need to share their student evals on facebook (which, I really think you shouldn't) then share all of them.

[E]

Insufficient engagement with published literature is a serious problem in philosophy. Promoting a publication on Facebook is one (tiny) way to help combat the problem, it's not (merely) "bragging."

[Amanda]

I didn't mention publications. I think that is different, because there is a clear end of sharing and engaging work. I don't feel the same about awards, grants, teaching evaluations etc. There is no other end there other than bragging.

[Amanda]

That said, I could care less about citations. I am big advocate of we should all cite less. I have never once looked at who cited me. I don't think it means anything. Engaging with work means something, but a citation is neither necessary nor sufficient to engage with someone's work. Most often it is just checking a box off. Controversial. I know.

[Marcus Arvan]

E: I agree.

Amanda: As you're probably aware, I've argued philosophers should read and cite more. This isn't because citations are valuable in and by themselves. The problem (in my view) is that many absences of citations in philosophy reflect a deeper problem: lack of sound scholarship.

An example: I have recently read a number of papers in a particular debate that make a big deal out of X being a problem, either claiming to show that it is a problem or deferring to previous research claiming it is a problem--in turn claiming (either explicitly or implicitly) either that no one has addressed the problem, or that X has no solution. The papers then base their own research program on X being a problem.

Alas, I know of papers published years ago (by less well-known authors, naturally) that have offered solutions to X, and which show up on the very first page of a philpapers search result on the topic. This is bad scholarship bordering on professional malfeasance. It's philosophically bad, as it misrepresents the state of the literature and furthers philosophical misconceptions (e.g. that no one has even so much as addressed X). It's also professionally bad, as citation and engagement patterns tend to track professional hierarchies, marginalizing authors lower on the totem pole and their contributions to the literature without even engaging clearly relevant works they produced, let alone showing that it is mistaken.