The Philosophers' Cocoon

Becoming a book reviewer (and should grad students do it?)

In our August "how can we help you?" thread, a reader asks:

How does one get to or is asked to do book reviews for top or decent journals? Related question, how do you know when your paper is good enough to be sent to a journal? I'm currently a PhD student.

We've already covered the related question here recently. Particularly if you are a grad student, the safest way to determine whether a paper is publishable is to send it to some faculty mentors and see if they think so! As you progress through your career, you may come to trust your own judgment--but in general, it's still good to send your work to other people (including conferences) to see how others receive it.

In any case, I'd like to consider the question about becoming a book reviewer. Here, another reader gave the following advice, which seems right to me:

I recommend that you contact the journal editor or the journal book review editor. They may ask for a c.v. and information that might indicate that you would be qualified to write a book review for a scholarly journal.

However, I'm curious: do readers think graduate students should even try to review books? Here's why I ask: when I was in graduate school, I knew some students who seemed to think that book reviews were a good use of their time. But, at the time and especially in retrospect, it doesn't seem that way to me. Some of the students I knew who did this only published book reviews, and never got around to actually publishing any articles--and they seemed to think that book reviews would look good on their CV. But this is not the case, right? The chance that a book review is going to help you get a job post-PhD, it seems to me, approximately zero. This isn't to say that book reviews are worth doing. I think they are, and have reviewed a number of books myself. I'm just not sure that it's a good idea for grad students to do them.

What do you all think?

Thoughts on short books?

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

What do people think about SpringerBriefs or Palgrave Pivot? It feels a bit of dirty back-scratching to me: the author gets to call an extended article a book, and the publisher gets to charge book price for it. But happy to change my first impression!

Another reader then responded:

I know at least one SpringBrief that is a thoughtful and well regarded book (and it is not my own ;)). So I think they do serve a purpose. In fact, I think a number of the major publishers are getting into producing smaller books (under 60,000 words). When I published with an academic press, I was explicitly told that the manuscript should be 90,000 words (the idea was it should not be shorter than 90,000). I think the academy is shifting a bit.

Here's my response: I think it is a good thing that publishers are increasingly publishing shorter book series like these. Let me explain why.

The importance of narrative in publishing?

In our August "how can we help you?" thread, a grad student writes:

A question on publishing. I get the impression that papers at top journals usually not only aim to provide strong arguments for some claim, but also to provide some narrative about the literature and the place of the paper in it. (For instance, a recent paper defends the claim that view A is supported by view B, and also tells a story according to which opponents of A have long objected to it by implicitly appealing to B, though it is debatable that they have done so.)

I was wondering (a) how important this kind of story telling is in getting a paper published, and (b) if it is important, what are some strategies for developing a skill for it.

My own sense, for what it is worth, is that it is crucial to tell a compelling but accurate story of how the paper fits into the literature and why it makes an important new contribution. In fact, I've heard this is true across fields, not just in philosophy. I've also reviewed a lot of papers, and my sense is that two errors are common: (1) Authors taking for granted that the problem they are working on is important when it's not necessarily clear to anyone but a hard-core 'insider' how this is the case, or alternatively (2) Telling a false, poorly researched, and/or exaggerated story. As a reviewer, I find both a bit frustrating. If, qua 1, I don't see the point of a paper, then it can be hard to recommend acceptance. However, I find instances of (2) even more frustrating. In fact, it seems to me something of a trend in the papers I've reviewed in recent years. For example, one of the more common story-telling maneuvers I've seen seems to be this: "Everyone who defends theory-type T thinks P. This paper is the first to argue that if T, then ~P." The aim here, of course, is to make it look like the paper is doing something spectacularly new and original. The problem, though, in my experience that it's nearly always the case that the author is ignoring wide swaths of literature of T-theorists who clearly aren't committed to P, as well as at least a few T theory papers that explicitly argue ~P. So, for this most part, I've found this a really poor story-telling strategy. A good story in academic research has to be an accurate one: one that doesn't oversell what it's doing by ignoring relevant literature.

This brings me to a couple of strategy suggestions. First, to tell a good story you have to read. Don't just read 3 Famous T-theorists who defend P and then treat them as representative of the entire T-theory literature. Instead, survey the T-literature and find out who is committed to P, who isn't, and who has explicitly denied P--and show in your introduction that your paper contributes something new that they haven't. Second, I suggest getting to the 'hook' first and to not get lost in endless exposition. Try to start the paper with a bang, stating in the very first sentence or two what the paper does. And while accurately situating your paper in the literature is important, do it concisely. Finally, I tend to think it's really important to spell out early and again in the conclusion of your paper the broader implications of your argument for future research. Does your argument merely make a small intervention with no broader implications (in which case, your contribution is a pretty small one), or does it have implications for how T-theorists should theorize or implications outside of T altogether? Provided again you tell an accurate story, that can make your article come across as important (and thus, important to publish!).

But these are just my thoughts. What are yours?

Questions about journal responsiveness

In our August "how can we help you?" thread, one reader writes:

Have you ever withdrawn a submission from a journal due to a delay or a lack of responsiveness? What was the final straw?

And another writes:

Question about contacting journals and ghosting authors. I had a paper accepted for publication back in April In a top journal and was told I would be contacted by the journal press shortly after. A couple weeks went by without contact, so I dropped a kindly-worded follow up email to the managing editor, who said they would look into the matter and that I should expect an email soon (I.e., two weeks). Well, a month and a half goes by and still nada. I drop another kindly-worded email to the journal managing editor and still have yet to receive a response.

I know the process is glacially slow and I am deeply appreciative of all the work journal teams do. As a youngish, untenured prof, however, the silence is a bit unnerving. Some communication to the effect of, “We are backlogged and Covid slowed us down even further; you will be contacted some time in the next decade”, would help.
1. Is journal silence a common occurrence?
2. Suggestions about how to handle journal silence post-acceptance professionally?

While I wouldn't worry about journal silence in reader #2's case (once a paper is accepted, it's accepted - so don't worry!), there are I think some interesting questions to discuss here--among them:

• When does it make sense to withdraw a paper from a journal?
• How should authors and the profession more generally deal with non-responsive journals?

I'm not sure that I have any great tips here. When I was early-career (i.e. on the job market and pretenure), I took a lot of care to submit to journals with good reputations and turnaround times, which you can find out about here and here. Back then, I didn't have time to wait 6-12 months for journal rejections, so I vaguely recall withdrawing a few papers years ago when the review time was inordinately long and the journal was unresponsive. I'd usually send an email or two asking for an update, and if I didn't get a response after some amount of time I'd just send another email withdrawing the paper. But again, generally speaking, I just tried to stay away from those kinds of journals to begin with. What do you all think?

Preparing APA colloquium submissions

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

In light of the just-posted question regarding preparing for an APA symposium talk, I want to ask a similar question but about preparing for an APA colloquium submission. I am a graduate student who has some conference experiences, but those have all been at rather sub-field specific venues, and--more to the point of my question--these have tended to have much longer (up tp 8000 words) or shorter (up to 500 words) word limits. So I find APA's 3000 word limit a bit foreign to navigate. Since I take it philosophers these days rarely *really* write 3000-word papers, what are some of the tips to cut down a paper down to 3000 words *and* make sure it looks polished and well thought-out?

Good question. I don't submit colloquium papers to APA meetings very often and haven't had much success when I have. I have a very difficult time writing papers so short, and I don't particularly have a lot of patience when it comes to shortening longer papers (I basically just chop out entire sections, leaving what I take to be a vastly inferior paper, but that's word counts for you). Anyway, if anyone does have good strategies for doing this, I'd love to hear them too!

The value of some wastefulness: robustness and serendipity

In academia, it's very common to think that you could have done more: work more efficiently, work better.

This perpetual guilt plagues all of us, particularly those of us on the job market, but even people with  tenured positions (which Covid-19 has also made less secure). 

Closely related to this idea that you could always have done more is the notion that you should optimize the time you manage to carve out for research. Job market consultants advise grad students and others on the job market not to waste their time doing such things as writing book reviews and other things with low CV value. You should be writing single-authored papers for top generalist philosophy journals! 

To this, I want to offer a bit of pushback. A bit of inefficiency and wastefulness is good. The idea that we should be hyper-efficient and streamlined is revealing itself as a failure on the level of society. In this article in Aeon, Barry Schwartz explains why efficiency is a dangerous idea: 

Why hadn’t we stockpiled key supplies and machines, built up hospital capacity, or ensured the robustness of our supply chains? The reason, of course, is that it would have been seen as inefficient and profit-robbing. Money spent on masks and gowns gathering dust in a warehouse could always be put to more ‘productive’ use in the marketplace. Likewise, employing more people than needed under ‘ordinary’ circumstances, or making products yourself rather than relying on international supply chains, would have been seen as inefficient. One lesson, then, is that to be better prepared next time, we need to learn to live less ‘efficiently’ in the here and now.

Questions about journal refereeing

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

I'm wondering how to deal with the following as a journal referee:

1) The manuscript, which discusses a recent paper, just flat-out misses an argument that that paper makes for a particular premise P. It is clear that they missed it because in the manuscript, the author writes, "It isn't clear what the argument for P is." In fact the author of paper being discussed does argue for premise P. I know not only because I am the author, but *more importantly* because I pulled up the paper to make sure I argued for it. I want to flag this to the referee without making it obvious that I am the author being discussed. How can I do this?

2) The manuscript deserves an R&R. But its tone is perhaps overly polemical, even hostile at times. I would say this even if the paper that the manuscript discusses were not myself. For instance, the manuscript contains asides like, "...the paper, characteristically, does not contain real-world examples of [the philosophical phenomenon]". As a referee, how can I flag that these hostile-sounding asides are unnecessary? Again, without revealing that I am the author of the paper being discussed.

Another reader gave what I take to be good answers to both questions:

1) just cite the relevant passage and refer to yourself in the third person. They might guess it’s you, but they won’t have enough evidence for that to be a great guess (even though it’s true), and your responsibility is to avoid revealing your identity, not to avoid your identity being guessed at all costs.

2) the quoted passage makes it clear that the author strongly disprefers your methodology, but it doesn’t come across as hostile to my ear. (As a reader, I find that these sorts of asides can be helpful, as they make it clear what kind of philosopher I’m reading.) Of course, if it *isn’t* characteristic of your writing (or of the literature? out of context I’m a bit unclear on the charge) that it does not contain real-world examples, then that’s an error you can point out.

Indeed, the passage the referee refers to doesn't seem to me problematically hostile. It could well be that the author the paper is criticizing (the reviewer!) doesn't provide any real-world examples, and this could well be a problem with the reviewer's work. That being said, I do think there are two things here that a reviewer could potentially take legitimate issue with. First, suppose it's the case that real-world examples are irrelevant to the issue at hand. In that case, I think it could be fine for a reviewer to point this out and say that the aside is unwarranted. Second, suppose it's the case that in their work, the reviewer has provided real-world examples and the aside in question misleads readers into thinking they haven't. In that case, once again I think it would be fine as a reviewer to point this out. Still, I think it's important to be judicious here. I don't think it's a reviewer's job to defend their own work in a review. Correcting egregious misrepresentations is fine, as is criticizing errors that affect whether the paper should be published. But suppose the aside in question here is merely an aside, having no real bearing on the paper's main argument, and that the reviewer being criticized really didn't provide any real-world examples in their work. In that case, I think the thing to do is probably to let it go.

In any case, this brings us to a final issue the follow-up commenter raised above:

Here’s a related question of my own. I get that folks think that journal article tone needs to be policed. Even if that’s true, is it the referee’s place to do the policing? Shouldn’t the reviewer focus on scholarly merits? The editor, who represents the journal and its style, can police tone if they like.

For my part, I'm inclined to think that unless a journal gives clear directions on how referees should evaluate papers (which some journals do via worksheet questionnaires), it should be up to the individual referee how they evaluate a given paper. This, I think, is why it is called peer-review. I mean, I personally think the primary focus should be on the quality of the scholarship and arguments. However, we all have different views about what a good paper should look like, and some of our peers can think that presentation and tone can be important. For example, during my time as a graduate student I was often upbraided by some of my mentors for writing with too aggressive of a tone. In retrospect, I'm very thankful for it. Generally speaking (though I do think there can be warranted exceptions), I'm inclined to think that we owe each other 'scholarly respect' (or whatever you want to call it). Fortunately, when I review papers for journals, it nearly always seems to me that failures in this regard converge with scholarly failures--that, for example, haughty dismissals of an author tend to misrepresent them in ways that very much warrant correction on purely scholarly grounds.

But these are just my thoughts and experiences. What are yours?

Giving philosophy its due?

A few weeks ago, a number of colleagues on social media shared the following piece, "Want a good job? Major in Philosophy", by Kristina Grob (University of South Carolina - Sumter). I think it's a great, concise summary of why philosophy isn't the kind of 'useless' degree many students and parents think it is, and in my experience information like this can really help attract majors. Just the other day, however, this piece appeared over at New Statesman arguing that it's "an offense against humanism" to try to rebrand higher education in terms of job-training. 

Like many philosophers I've spoken to, I suspect that giving students and parents information about how philosophy degrees can pay off is probably the best short-term way to 'sell the discipline': an important thing to do, I think, given the increasing number of philosophy programs and departments that are being shut down or threatened with closure. That being said, I really wonder whether it is the best long-term strategy, and for broadly the reasons the New Statesman piece points out: it plays right into the narrow set of values and priorities that philosophy and the humanities can get students to question--the latter of which is sort of the point of a liberal arts education: to develop well-cultivated citizens!

However, on that note, I'm inclined to think that the best kind of case for philosophy--at least in the longer-term--may be more than what the New Statesman piece mentions. The NS piece, after all, is not about philosophy per se, but rather higher education more generally. What does philosophy have to offer specifically, in addition to employability and personal cultivation? The answer, I'd like to suggest, is (broadly speaking) that the extent to which societies flourish or fail seems to be a matter of their animating philosophies.

Take for example ancient Athens. It was for a time the preeminent power in the Mediterranean, possessing nearly unparalleled wealth and power. And yet, as we see in Plato's dialogues and in the historical record (such as Pericles' infamous funeral oration), its citizens and political leaders became progressively corrupted by broadly the values that Thrasymachus defends in Book I and Socrates details in Book VIII of The Republic--the belief that justice is power ('might makes right')--as well as by the values that Gorgias, Polus, and Callicles all affirm in Gorgias: that the ability to speak persuasively (rhetoric) is the most important thing for young people to learn. The historical record here seems pretty clear: it was, broadly speaking, these philosophies that sowed the seeds of Athens' downfall. Athenians became so preoccupied with power and rhetorical ability that it enabled Pericles (whose rhetorical skills were legendary) to convince the populace that it would be a good idea to conquer Sparta--a completely unnecessary and reckless plan that set conditions for a plague (!) to decimate Athens, lose the war, and be taken over by the bloody tyranny of the Thirty Tyrants.

Why, then, should people value philosophy? Why should we fund it? Perhaps because in addition to making people good critical thinkers who can get jobs as well as cultivated people who can think about the 'big questions', we should care about it because philosophy really is socially important. Make no mistake about it: Nazism, slavery, colonialism, etc.--these were (and are) all philosophies, ones that have done untold damage. Philosophy, then, is not a luxury. Good philosophies can  improve civilizations, and bad philosophies can destroy them, leading to untold suffering. This, I think, is the deeper story we should be telling. It may well be a hopeless endeavor, of course, for broadly the reasons Socrates detailed in the Allegory of the Cave. But, for all that, I'm inclined to think this is the story we should tell: because it's a true one. Jobs are important. Personal cultivation is important too. But to focus on these things alone is, I believe, to vastly undersell the importance of what we philosophers do. History and the present alike make it all too clear: philosophy matters for the good of society and for the good of us all--and societies that fail to pay appropriate heed to this can and do pay a big price.  

Or so say I. What say you?

Contributing to society qua philosopher?

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

How can philosophers contribute to society at large? As a new grad student, I feel like I am missing the bigger picture on how philosophers can give back to society beyond teaching students.

I mean, the most obvious answer to this question is to do public philosophy--publishing well-reasoned, philosophical pieces on issues of public importance in highly visible venues (e.g. The Guardian, Slate, Aeon, etc.). Then of course you can volunteer for or otherwise work with public-facing organizations, ranging from think tanks to state or local UN Associations (the latter of which I did for several years, organizing public events and conferences in the Tampa Bay areas). But these are just a few ideas. I'd love to crowd-source more possibilities from readers in the comments section below!

Publishing preprints after journal acceptance?

In our August "how can we help you?" thread, Mercado writes:

A journal recently accepted a manuscript of mine. That is, it is forthcoming in journal x. Is it bad form to post a version of the paper on my professional website before the journal publishes the manuscript?

A reader then replied:

Mercado I think it is bad form. Read the contract you signed with the publisher, and then honor it.

This strikes me as a strange reply. It is of course vital to respect the terms of a publishing contract. However, my sense is that most (though not all) journals allow preprints to be posted on an author's website and/or repository upon acceptance.

In memoriam: Jerry Gaus (1952-2020)

Like many of my friends and colleagues, I was shocked and deeply saddened to learn last week of Jerry Gaus's passing. Although I did not know Jerry closely for very long--he joined Arizona less than two years before I finished my PhD, and I only saw him occasionally in the many years that followed--Jerry served on my dissertation committee and made a deep and indelible impression on me. So I would like to say a few brief things to celebrate the remarkable person I knew him to be.

The three most obvious things to me about Jerry were his kindness, brilliance, and all-around sunny disposition. Anyone who met Jerry knows that he was nearly always smiling and laughing. He was simply a joy to be around, and was always willing to chat--often for hours on end, either in his office or a pint of suds. But Jerry wasn't just a joy to be around: he was a deeply kind man. I've often shared my grad school struggles on the Cocoon. Jerry never batted an eyelash, so to speak. His support for others, as many others noted here, was unflagging and truly uncommon. Then, of course, there was his intellect. Here, I'll just say this: I think Jerry was hands down the most brilliant person I've ever met. The sharpness and clarity of his mind, and breadth and depth of his knowledge, were just awe-inspiring. 

Because these are things that nearly everyone who knew Jerry has mentioned, let me conclude by sharing a more personal anecdote--the thing about Jerry that made the single biggest impact on me: the example he set as a person, mentor, and educator. In addition to patiently chatting for hours on end, I'll never forget showing a few of my friends the kind of feedback Jerry gave on written work. If I gave Jerry a 30-page dissertation chapter draft, he would give something like 1-2 pages of handwritten feedback per page (often filling, for example, the reverse-side of every page with detailed comments). On the one hand, this might seem like a small thing: professors are supposed to give students ample feedback. Then, on the other hand, you might have the same initial reaction that some my friends did when I showed the feedback to them: "Whoa, that's way too much - that must be demoralizing and debilitating!" The thing is, though, Jerry's feedback wasn't any of those things. Every word was a gift--not just in terms of the philosophical knowledge and wisdom it conveyed, but also, more deeply, as a model of how to treat others, particularly those who depend on us as teachers or mentors: namely, to unfailingly and generously give people our very best. I suspect that many others who knew Jerry had similar experiences and took them in a similar way: as a model of what kind of person and educator to aspire to be, and to try pass on to others in our own lives. A wonderful gift indeed.

I don't know if there is life after death or 'immortality of the soul', though I dearly hope so. And again, I did not know Jerry nearly as well as many others, who will almost certainly give him vastly better memorials than I have. But what I do believe, from the relatively short time that I knew him well, is that these aspects of Jerry will live on in the lives and being of other people, in ways seen and unseen, and in ways that can only continue to help make the world a better place. I wish that I had told Jerry more of this while he was still here. But if he is out there somewhere, I hope the impact he has made on so many of our lives makes him beam that wide smile and let out the hearty laugh that all of us who knew him will dearly miss.

Getting an academic job with an MA?

In our August "how can we help you?" thread, a reader asks: "Is it possible for one to have an academic job (eg. lecturer) with only an MA? How does one go about finding such jobs?" As a reader commented on to follow up, there are basically three ways to get an academic job with only an MA:

1. Part-time adjunct positions often only require an MA, but are low-paying without full-time benefits.
2. Some full-time lecturer positions at universities may only require an MA, but appear to be quite rare in philosophy.
3. Many permanent community college jobs appear to only require an MA.

I suspect that of these three options, the first is the most common (but least attractive of the three), and that if one wants full-time employment with an MA, the third option is probably one's best shot. But I don't know for sure. Anyone with experience on this care to weigh in? 

Taking the GRE when it's optional?

In our "how can we help you?" thread, a prospective graduate student writes:

I am an applicant for graduate programs this upcoming year. I am wondering whether I should take the GRE or not, although a lot of the departments are saying that it is entirely 'optional.' Some departments straight out decline to receive GRE scores, and for those departments, I do not have to worry whether I'd have to send the score or not, but for the departments that simply state that it is 'optional,' I am wondering if it would still be a good idea to take it and submit it. My gut reaction is that it won't matter that much, but still, wanted to hear some thoughts.

Good question! The GRE is a pretty miserable experience to take and study for, so if it's optional at a lot of programs, then I would definitely understand why someone wouldn't want to take it. On the other hand, it does seem to me like the kind of thing that could help an applicant, particularly if they receive very high scores. But I've never been on a grad admissions committee, so I could be wrong about this. Any grad admissions committee members care to weigh in?

Summer sounds

Like many people, I expect, I discovered this musical artist through the astonishing German television series, Dark. If you haven't seen the show yet, it's really quite amazing (especially from the end of the first season on!):

Directed reading courses & alternatives?

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

I am a graduate student interested in pursuing directed reading courses with faculty. I'm hoping to so because my department doesn't have people working in my areas of interest and I want to continue to train up before reapplying to PhD programs....

Taking for granted that these considerations might be different from department to department, I wonder how graduate students should conceive of directed reading courses, if anyone has suggestions for how to approach possible faculty supervisors, and other considerations related to these courses that students may not be aware of from the faculty perspective. E.g. should graduate students prepare a proposed syllabus before approaching a possible faculty supervisor? Would it be too much to ask people from other institutions to supervise such things?

Secondary to this, I wonder how these courses are considered by those reviewing the transcripts of PhD applicants--though this might not get much uptake here.

As two readers replied, asking people from other institutions to supervise a directed reading course is pretty much out of the question. They will receive no compensation for it, and asking people to do unpaid work is likely to come across as a bizarre ask. The way I see it, there's a much better alternative available, albeit one that takes some real initiative: organizing a self-directed reading group of your own. There is a long history of scholars doing this. To take just one case, Einstein famously organized the 'Olympia Academy' with a group of friends while working in the Swiss patent office. They were simply an informal reading group that read and discussed Hume, Mill, Spinoza, physics, philosophy of science, etc. In today's internet age, figuring out stuff to read in a new area is not very difficult. All you need to do, to begin, is check out resources such as the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, the entries of which standardly involve bibliographies that can serve as obvious reading lists. The trick, of course, is to get some other people--particularly, others with some philosophical skills and training--to do the reading group with you. Yet, if you're currently in a grad program (as the OP mentions), then this shouldn't be prohibitively difficult to do. Surely, there have to be a least a few other grads in the program who might have an interest in it. And who knows: maybe a faculty member or two might be interested in it too!

There are other possible ways to solicit interest in reading groups, particularly now that we are socially distanced: namely, online networking. On that note, let me offer just such a way right now: the comments section below! Is anyone out there interested in setting up a self-directed reading group online? If so, just post below the subject-matter you're interested in along with your name and contact information. Who knows? If there are enough of you out there willing to share your interests and information, maybe there will be enough overlap between some of you to get a few groups started.

Preparing for an APA symposium talk?

In our August "how can we help you?" thread, a reader asks:

I've had a lot of experience and success giving colloqiua talks (25-30ish minutes plus Q&A), but recently I was accepted to present some research as a symposium at a future APA. I'd love to get some feedback on the differences, handling material, likely several critics/commenters, and an extended Q&A. Are there things to watch out for or to consider differently than a colloquium talk, especially as a PhD student and not even an early career PhD or experienced faculty?

Great question, and I'm very curious to hear how people answer! One of my first ever talks as a graduate student was an Eastern APA symposium session on some of my nascent dissertation work, and I will say that it was a pretty unique (and intimidating) experience. However, as it was a long time ago now (way back in 2007), my memory of it is a bit fuzzy and so I'm not sure that I'm the best person to ask for advice. Anyone with more recent experience here have any tips to share?   

COVID/online teaching: are you assigning less?

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

I am preparing Fall 2020 syllabi for mid-to-upper-level courses.

Synchronous-online instructors, how much reading material are you all assigning?

How much are folks assigning relative to what they would have assigned in a non-COVID-in-person scenario?

Good questions. I'm currently scheduled to teach a hybrid format: in-person in the classroom while livestreaming to other students via Zoom. However, for obvious reasons, I've designed my courses to be able to transition to online-only delivery easily. In brief, I've assigned the same amount of reading for my classes as usual. But what I have done is reduce the number and type of graded assignments students have to complete. The rationale for this is simple: anyone could get sick, both me and my students. Given that my lectures (which will be posted online) help students to understand course readings, it didn't seem to make sense to me to dramatically change the readings I've assigned. Graded assignments, however, can take real time to complete and if someone is out of commission for an extended period of time, then missing graded assignments could be a big burden on everyone involved. I'm not sure this is the right strategy--as, like many people, I'm designing courses like this for the first time--but it seemed to me the best way to go.

What about all of you? Are you assigning the same amount of reading material relative to non-COVID/in-person teaching? Have you reduced the number or type of graded (or even ungraded) assignments you're planning? Etc.

Getting a 2nd PhD to stay in philosophy?

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

I have a PhD in philosophy but haven't been able to get a TT job despite a few years on the market. I still want to be a professional philosopher.

My publication record is good enough for tenure at nearly any R1. But I came from a Leiter low-ranked school, and multiple search committee members have told me that this makes me unhireable.

Is it possible to get a second philosophy PhD, from a school like NYU or Princeton, to check the 'pedigree' and 'fancy advisor' boxes?

One reader responded as follows:

[N]o, that is not possible—no high-ranking program would accept someone who already had a PhD . Do you really have a tenure at an R1 profile? Like multiple articles a year + a book with a top-notch press, something like that? I do not think that what you propose is wise, even if it were possible. I would invest in conferencing (I know, Covid, but for the time being, online conferences)—if you become well-known in your sub discipline, you can get letters etc, to overcome the lack of “clout” of your home institution. it’s always a gamble, though. I know very smart accomplished people from high-ranked programs who have been shut out—no interviews, year after year. It sucks—you always think someone else has the golden ticket, truth is, there is no golden ticket.

While I think this reader is almost certainly right that a second philosophy PhD is out of the question, there's another fairly obvious possibility that I'm curious about readers' thoughts to: seeking a second PhD in another discipline. For example, suppose you work in moral or political philosophy. Although some philosophers (e.g. Scanlon) think empirical work is irrelevant to normative philosophical matters, there are those of who who deeply disagree--people who think that things like empirical psychology and political science are vital to draw on in moral and political theorizing. So, if moral or political is your philosophical focus and you really want to stay in academia, why not consider pursuing a second PhD in one of these areas? Doing so could not open up other job-markets to you (e.g. academic and industry jobs in psych and poli-sci), but also give you time to keep publishing in philosophy. Similarly, if the person works in logic, epistemology, or philosophy of science, there are all kinds of science-y PhDs they might pursue. 

If, as this reader claims, they really do have an R1-tenure-worthy publication record, then I have to imagine that someone in philosophy would eventually hire them if they stay on the market, particularly if they keep publishing at a good clip. Given how terrible the market is, it's all to easy to have an extended 'string of bad luck' (I spent 7 years on the market myself!). So, again, why not pursue a 2nd PhD in another field? Doing so, again, could enable this person to stay on the philosophy job-market while preparing them for additional job-markets. It would, of course, mean another 5-7+ years in a philosophy grad program. However, if they really don't want to leave academia, this seems to me a better option than, say, long-term adjunct work.

But these are just my thoughts. What are yours?

BPA/SWIP-UK Mentoring Scheme for Women in Philosophy

Aness Webster (Nottingham) has drawn my attention to the BPA/SWIP-UK Mentoring Scheme for Women in Philosophy. Here is a brief description of the project, which is not just for job-market mentoring but for "all women from first-year PhD level onwards who are students of philosophy or employed on teaching and/or research contracts (including fractional contracts) in universities in the UK or Ireland." Here's a brief description of the program:

Women are under-represented in UK philosophy at all levels, from Masters students to professors. The British Philosophical Association and the Society for Women in Philosophy (UK) have produced a comprehensive report, Women in Philosophy in the UK, which includes some recommendations and suggestions that individuals, departments, conference organisers and so on can follow in order to increase the representation of women at all levels.

Mentoring is a key mechanism by which women can gain valuable skills, advice, perspective, and experience that will help them to realise their potential and develop their academic careers. Studies have shown that women in male-dominated fields often receive far less mentoring than their male colleagues. With this in mind, we have developed a national scheme so that all women in philosophy from first-year PhD to Senior Lecturer are able to take advantage of the benefits that mentoring has to offer, if they wish to do so.

The aims of the scheme are to:

• increase self-confidence and reduce isolation of women philosophers in what is still a male dominated environment;
• encourage more women to continue within philosophy and to take on more senior roles;
• provide women opportunities to discuss the problems they face;
• offer women informed advice about their personal career development;
• raise the profile of women in philosophy.

Professor Webster can be reached at aness.webster@nottingham.ac.uk, and the Mentoring Scheme address is swipbpamentor@gmail.com.

Philosophy fiction magazine & (e)book series

A couple of weeks ago, a reader noted that they write fiction on philosophical themes, asking how it would look to others in the discipline. As I and a couple of commenters responded, publishing fiction may well be an asset, particularly at SLACs. In any case, this week I was contacted by the creator of a philosophy-themed fiction magazine and book series, After Dinner Conversation. In addition to accepting unsolicited submissions (which they pay modestly for if accepted), they also hold fiction-writing contests with cash prizes which accept work in multiple age-genres (children's stories, young adult, and adult). Here are just a few of the ebook stories they have published that are currently listed as available for free:

1. Patchouli Lost(Free!)*: Patchouli calls a friend for help getting out of an abusive relationship. (Podcast)

2. My Fellow (Immortal) Americans (Free!): The President gives a speech about a proposed raise in the minimum “time wage” and its effect on those who plan to live forever. (Podcast)

3. The Shadow Of The Thing (Free!): Maeve calls on her friend to help her take a new street drug that (she thinks) will forever open her see the true meanings that hide behind the curtain. (Podcast)

4. This I Do For You (Free!): A spoiled child is raised in the lap of luxury until he is finally called on to serve others. (Podcast)

5. Pretty Pragmatism (Free!): A US Senator introduces a bill that borrows public policy ideas from the Nazi party.

6. Bunny Racing (Free!): Two bunnies race, but one of them has been eating a special carrot from the forbidden forest to help him run faster. (All-Ages)

7. The Truth About Thurman (Free!): Two Americans are captured by a terrorist group who give the government a choice, pick one for us to let go free, or we kill them both. (Podcast)

I can't attest to the quality of the fiction writing or philosophical sophistication of the stories, but in any case I think this is a really cool endeavor, and well as a great opportunity for philosophers who write fiction. The world needs philosophy now as much (if not more) than ever, and fiction seems to me a wonderful way to reach the broader public. 

Navigating grad program politics when leaving?

In our August "how can we help you?" thread, a grad student writes:

I am a second year PhD student at an unranked program here in the US. Lately I've felt really disenchanted with the current state of the academic job market and I am considering transitioning to either high school teaching or applying to law school.

In short, my question is how should one go about planning a transition from a PhD program? For instance, when should I tell my DGS? My advisors? And is it wrong to essentially hang around for a few years for the income/health insurance until I have something figured out (or can get my LSAT above a 175)? I love teaching and doing research so I don't hate the work, but I have come to the conclusion it's not worth staying if there's no job waiting for me.

Appreciate any advice on how to navigate the department politics of leaving programs.

These are great questions. I don't have any experience here, so unfortunately I don't think I have any good advice to offer. But I suspect there are at least some readers out there with experience, either as grad students who have left their program or as faculty who have seen grad students leave their program. Anyone have any helpful tips and/or answers to the OP's specific questions?

Teaching extra courses for financial reasons?

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

I am a junior faculty member. Faculty salaries at my university are lower than the national average, but I am offered opportunities to teach extra courses, especially during the breaks. That's a big help for me financially (I have a family to support) but it's also a serious time commitment. I have a 4/4 load and can rarely have research done during the semesters.

I am curious how people decide whether to teach extra courses for financial reasons. I know this depends on each person's particular situation. And in theory, one should teach extra courses only if it would not significantly affect one's research. But I still feel hard to decide in practice. I am curious what others do and why you do it. Thanks!

This is a great query, and I am very curious to hear how people respond. Although I understand some people have families and may need extra money in the short term, in general--that is, extreme financial need aside--I'm inclined to think that it is probably better for junior faculty in permanent positions not to teach extra courses during breaks. In any case, even though I needed the money earlier in my career, I decided very early on to not teach additional courses. Let me briefly explain why.

Norms for answering emails?

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

I'd like to push the topic of norms for correspondence. My question is simple: Under what circumstances (if at all) is it acceptable not to reply to an email. I don't mean only requests to comments, but also various invitations to conferences, to contribute to an edited book, to give a lecture etc.

My view is that it is impolite not to answer such an email, even a weird one. It takes less than one minute to write "Sorry, I can't do that."

Good query. I've often been quite surprised here. For example, I've heard stories of philosophers who committed to contribute to an edited volume deciding later on to never respond to emails--essentially 'ghosting' the editor they had an agreement with. This seems to me profoundly unprofessional. Similarly, I've even heard that some journals routinely do this: ignoring repeated emails from authors to check in on the status of manuscripts after, say, 8 months of review. I find it astonishing that there are journals that do this kind of stuff. I don't understand why authors don't protest them by refusing to submit work.

I was always taught that basic norms of professionalism dictate responding to emails within 24 hours during the work week, so that's what I generally try to do (I do not normally respond on weekends). But there are some kinds of emails that I may not respond to at all, or only after some delay. For example, I constantly receive unsolicited requests to 'guest post' on the Cocoon by non-philosophers looking to see this or that product. I don't respond to these. And, of course, like many philosophers (or so I've heard) I sometimes receive emails from non-philosophers who claim to have solved every philosophical problem ever, asking me if I'd care to read their 400-page book. Generally speaking, I usually respond kindly to these kinds of queries, politely declining. But aside from these kinds of things, I try to get back to everyone who contacts me fairly promptly. 

But this is just what I think and do. What do you all think? What norms should one follow for correspondence? Under which circumstances is it acceptable to not reply to an email?

Putting Zoom talks to online groups on CVs?

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

People are forming all kinds of zoom groups. Suppose it’s wildly unlikely that you would have been brought out to a campus setting for some event but a group of people invited you to speak or present something to their department zoom group or these people are reading something of yours and they invite you join in that week. This doesn’t feel CV worthy to me but I also can’t see why not exactly... it’s a lot like a department or research group inviting you to their campus for a colloquium in a way... just no plane ticket. I’m tempted to add a “Covid/online activity” section to my cv. Any thoughts?

I haven't been a part of any of these groups, but I've heard a bit about them. People increasingly seem to be getting invited to provide guest-talks to other people's classes (including graduate seminars), as well as to reading groups of various sorts--some housed primarily within a department and others including scholars from other universities (particularly universities in the surrounding region). In response to this query, another reader ('Appearances') wrote:

You can put what you want on your cv. But the lower grade the stuff is that you list, the lower you are pitching yourself. I advised someone to take their computer skills off their cv...and then they got a permanent position. They were pitching themselves in a way that made them look like ...

This seems right to me. Appearances matter, and it seems to me that the more you include stuff like this, the more 'desperate' you may look. In addition to being quite a bit of a lottery, the academic job-market has always seemed to me a lot like dating: you want to look confident and accomplished rather than insecure and 'making up accomplishments' to pad your CV. While it may be tempting to think of being invited to present to one of these online groups as a genuine accomplishment, the real question here is how it is going to look. As 'Appearances' noted, they don't think it looks very good, and I suspect they are not alone. Might there be counterexamples? Suppose that some Famous Philosopher invites you to give a guest lecture to their grad seminar. Could that look good? I guess it could--but in that case, instead of creating a Covid/online activity' section, I'm inclined to think it may make more sense to just change the 'Invited Talks' section of your CV to something like 'Invited Talks and Guest Lectures', or some such. 

But these are just my thoughts. What are yours? 

Deciding when you have a publishable idea?

In our newest "how can we help you?" thread, a reader who is about to start a PhD program writes:

[H]ow and when is one ready to write something publishable? Or to put it otherwise, how do you decide whether an idea should be pursued for a publishable work? after how many papers or books? Should one read "everything under the sun" before start writing for publication? Or for example, if I have an idea of paper after reading ten papers, should I start writing or wait for a comprehensive literature review?

I'm very curious to hear about how other people answer these questions, and suspect there is a lot of variation in how people work. But let me share my own approach.

Strange 'part-time' jobs this year?

A reader writes in:

I am on the market this year, and noticed quite a few “part time” jobs, e.g. “3 year, 80% time post” and “Assistant professor (50% +).” I am unfamiliar with such practices, so would like to know a) what is it like to be in such positions (I know experiences should differ from person to person), b) do people work de facto full time in these jobs, and c) will the part time nature make working visa applications more difficult.

Interesting query. I think I've seen a few jobs like this in the past, but suspect they may be more common this year for an obvious reason: universities looking to save money due to the pandemic. Does anyone have the inside scoop on these kinds of positions? I cannot help but have the suspicion that people in these positions may be expected to work de facto full-time job, in which case jobs like these could be a really underhanded way for universities to underpay the person hired. But maybe I'm wrong about this. In any case, what are these jobs like? Do they have any implications for visa applications?

Advice for people who start graduate school in the midst of a pandemic

(This is a talk I am giving to the incoming graduate students at my department).

Welcome, incoming graduate students; I am so pleased you are joining us. I'm excited to see what lies ahead for you. I'm your placement director, and was asked to give a brief talk to you via Zoom, as we are still in the midst of a pandemic. 

If I had spoken to you last year, I would've talked in detail about my journey into philosophy. Everyone's experience is different, but it's often helpful to hear from a diversity of experiences, particularly if they are from people who don't fit the archetype of a philosopher, for example, someone who is (like me) from a working-class immigrant background, who is not a white man, whose philosophical interests are unconventional, etc. 

My trajectory to become a philosophy professor was unusual. When I started my second postdoc in 2013 I wondered if I would ever be able to land a tenure-track job. I turned to various mentors, informal ones and even a job market consultant, to try to learn the secret to job market success in academia. I then discovered there are many donts. Don't co-author in philosophy, certainly not with your partner if you are a woman. Don't publish in non-philosophy journals. Don't blog or do public philosophy, that is for senior people with the security of tenure. There were also many dos. Always have at least three papers under review (I did that! Now I think, wow that's exhausting!). Write the sort of paper you see appear in Mind or Philosophical Review. Hang out with important people. 

I've since learned you can't just distill success in grad school and on the job market into some formula. I know lots of people who fit all the dos and dont, and who have at the time they finish the PhD job CVs that would suffice for tenure at a research-intensive school. Yet they do not receive any offers for tenure track jobs. And I also know people who flouted the rules and did well.

So, my advice back in 2019 would have been this, and I think this advice still applies. It's important to cultivate good habits that help you be productive and to get your work out there (see here for an excellent list of tips by Liz Jackson). But also, you must do so in such a way that you can grow authentically into the person that you want to be. 

Bringing up the authentic self in the context of job market advice may seem strange, because the advice of job market consultants, advisers and many placement directors seems to be that you should not be yourself. Rather, they argue you should become a narrowly specialized candidate who is well networked and who writes papers that appear in top journals. They think you should fit your professional persona to the demands of the job market.

However, people with long-term high job satisfaction as academics tend to be people who are able to live and work authentically, to do the work they love and value, and teach and do service in line with their values. Obviously, there is a lot of work that you might not love as a professor. Examples may include grading, committees, admin (in the UK), or teaching that intro course for the nth time. Still, it strikes me that professors who are enduringly happy are people who have somehow merged their professional persona with their values, and who are doing things they delight in.

What does this mean concretely? In research, it means that you should do work that excites you. Writing a dissertation is difficult and a lot of job market failure lies in people who do not complete their PhD. You are in it for the long haul, you will be with us for at least five years, and you need enough love for the topic to be able to complete it. You must not lose your love for reading or other things you valued. Don't be tempted into the trap of "I will focus everything on being an academic and will make time for the rest of my life once I have tenure". That is counterproductive and unsustainable.

We are now in the midst of a pandemic. Among its many ramifications is a likely deep economic crisis, the extent of which we don't yet know as we're still grappling with the virus. The effects will likely be bigger and longer-lasting than the 2008 financial crisis. The philosophy job market never recovered to pre-2008 levels after the previous crash, as can be seen in this figure from IHE. We are not even countenancing the beginning of an economic recovery yet from this pandemic (after all, it isn't over), and what shape that recovery will take is hard to predict. In the light of this crisis mode that higher education undeniably is in, my advice needs to be adapted.

Reading strategies for new subject matter?

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

I'm about to start my PhD [and]...I have recently changed my area of interest and wish to write my thesis on something completely new to me. At this point, what are your reading strategies on a new subject matter? How do you make your reading list? How do you decide what to read and what not? For example, should one start with 20th-century biggies first? Or can one start directly with the seminal papers or books in the last decades? Relatedly, how do you read a philosophical work? Do you try to understand every single sentence and idea? Do you sketch the arguments in detail for every paper? or do you read closely only after you have developed your paper ideas? etc.

Good questions! One reader replied:

[L]ots of variation here, depending on areas and the kind of projects you work on. If it is a new area, try to survey the central works. I wouldn't try to understand every single sentence and idea in most works. At first you want to read around and get a sense of the field. I'd also consult faculty members in the area you're interested in to find out what works they think are the most important. This can save you a lot of time.

I do read closely sometimes before I have a paper idea (if I'm interested enough in the book/paper) - reading carefully can lead to objections which can lead to papers. But once I have a paper idea I read very selectively - e.g., only the parts of books that are relevant to my particular paper. After working out a draft, I will then do a more careful literature search to see what's out there. I definitely wouldn't advise reading "everything under the sun" - even for your dissertation - unless you work in an area with very little literature.

Another reader replied:

Some philosophers like to get a general idea of what the author is getting at while others like to read the work like they’re trying to understand a complex mathematical problem and so every word is important. There are costs and benefits to both methods.

In other words, some philosophers value accuracy more than precision. And some value both equally. Accuracy is a given since truthfulness or correctness is required in inquiry. Precision is often regarded as an option most of the time in the realm of philosophical theory. I aim for both when reading and writing philosophy.

Unfortunately, it can be very difficult to arrive at the accuracy and precision of interpretation and understanding of the text depending on the author.

For example, Kant’s prose is mentally torturous and complicated and so it has led to a lot of varied and contradicting interpretations of his work....

Both of these readers make good points. I don't think there's a single best way to enter the literature for a new subject matter. My sense is that it depends a lot on one's purpose. For example, suppose you have some particular idea (say, about the nature of free will). In that case, the thing to probably do is to start with Google and Philpapers searches--and sometimes, Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy or even Wikipedia entries--to see what, if anything, has been written on that. Start there, with some recent or historical works that seem to be the closest to your own idea, and then go from there. Typically, of course, published papers you read will discuss and cite other relevant papers. So then go read those. This, in my experience, tends to be a pretty good method--at least, again, if your interest in the new subject matter is motivated by a particular idea.

How are you running your courses this fall?

Many of us, indeed probably nearly all of us who teach at a university level, will be teaching courses in new ways this fall. Although most of us had a little experience transitioning to remote/online delivery this past spring, I take it that this fall may be the first time that many of us have designed hybrid or online courses. Consequently, this fall is almost certainly going to be a real learning experience for most of us. Some of what we do may work well, some of it may not work well, and some of it may turn out to be a disaster (as is sometimes the case, in my experience, whenever one attempts radically new things).

Anyway, because most of us will be returning to the classroom soon (and much to my surprise, I've learned that some universities have already started!), I thought it might be helpful to run a thread on how readers are designing their courses. What format are you giving your course in, and how will you be running them? Why? The way I see it, the more details people choose to share, the better: it may give those of us who are still designing courses some helpful additional perspectives to go on. Allow me to start things off.

Synchronous vs. Asynchronous: which is better?

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

For nearly the entire summer, I had planned on administering my fall courses (all online) asychronously. This seemed to be the most recommended option, and the asynchronous system I ended up utilizing when COVID hit ended up working out okay.

But now we're facing a new school year, with new students many of whom are going to be freshmen! I've gotten the sense, from students who have sent me emails, that many of them are looking forward to potentially synchronous online classes. This has made me seriously reconsider my plan to do an asynchronous course.

To sum it up: my classes are going to be all first-year students. I worry that an entirely asynchronous course would be unsatisfying and for many of them would deprive them of what they feel is the beginning of their college experience. Does the fact that we are entering a new semester, several months into the pandemic and the new online learning paradigm, make it any more reasonable than before to try synchronous online teaching?

I decided to skip forward to this query because it seems rather time-sensitive. At my university, we've been instructed that at least 50% of our material needs to be synchronous and involve 'face-time' with students (in-person and/or over Zoom). I don't know the full reasoning behind this, but my sense is that it may have to do with students expecting synchronous instruction, and the sense that some robust amount of synchronous instruction is conducive to student-to-student and student-to-faculty engagement. I also want to do synchronous teaching because I think it's probably better for me and my students to expect each other to be present and engaged with the course material only during the meeting hours of the course (rather than the kind of 'round the clock' availability that asynchronous learning seems conducive to).

But really, I don't know. Although we could end up moving all online, I'm scheduled to teach my courses in a hybrid online/in-classroom format--so again, I really have to do a good amount of synchronous teaching. And, like most of us, this is really my 'first time doing this', as it were, so I really don't know what tends to work best. Anyone have any insight that may help this reader decide what to do, especially for a freshman class?

Norms for initiating correspondence?

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

I'd love to hear people's views about the norms for initiating correspondence with other philosophers. It's a big aspect of the sociology of our profession. Yet I've never seen it discussed, and I have a sense that people have conflicting views about when it's appropriate.

Here is one special case I'd love feedback about. A prominent figure in my subfield once encouraged me (and other early career folks) to feel free to reach out and email polished drafts of my work to philosophers I am writing about in my research, and to do so prior to submitting this work to journals. Sometimes nothing will come of it (and that's fine), but the recipient might well enjoy reading and guiding new work related to their research. The reasons given were that doing so would (1) help early career people to develop relationships and, I think more importantly, (2) likely improve the quality of our drafts. I have heard from some grad students at elite programs that something like this is standard advice.

I have tried this, and sometimes received pushback from the other end. One senior philosopher whom I reach out to in this way told me they wished I hadn't done so, since now they would be unable to "blindly" referee my paper in the event that they are asked to do so. I see the force of this response.

So: I'd appreciate help figuring out the relevant norms. When is initiating correspondence like this a good idea? How should we balance peer-reviewing considerations against the benefits of open correspondence?

I think these are great questions! One reader responded:

As long as you're not sending your paper to lots of folks, I don't think there is anything wrong with sending your work to someone you discuss - but as you note, there can be a lot of variation in how or whether people respond.

I think it is especially likely to be a good strategy when the work you discuss isn't that of a super-prominent faculty member - most philosophers would be delighted to provide feedback to someone who actually discusses their work.

My own experience is that initiating correspondence tends to go best if you have some previous interaction with a person, such as meeting and talking with them at a conference. I also with agree with the above response that trying to initiate correspondence tends to work better if the person you're trying to initiate conversation with isn't super prominent (as my sense is that prominent people get so many unsolicited emails that they can get pretty perturbed by it). Finally, however else you do it, my sense is that tact matters a lot--though, of course, specifying exactly what is tactful here is difficult.

Anyway, I don't have much advice to offer beyond this--but I expect there are probably some readers out there who do. So, then: when do you think initiating correspondence is a good idea? How should one balance peer-review considerations against it? And what norms are there or tips do you have that might be helpful to share?  

How can we help you? (August 2020)

Now that it's been a month since our last "how can we help you?" thread, it's time for another 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:

• Life and work in the COVID-19 era
• The job-market (applying for jobs, etc.)
• Issues in the profession (including issues of social justice)
• Graduate school
• Publishing
• Teaching
• Work-life balance
• Personal struggles
• Etc.

Fire away - we're here to help!

Publishing fiction and the job-market?

In our July "how can we help you?" thread, an Author writes:

This might be a silly question but here goes. What would you think of a philosopher publishing fiction in addition to publishing philosophy? If their work has philosophical themes - if a character was a philosophy professor, or if characters explicitly discussed philosophers' work - would you think that was evidence of un-seriousness or lack of dedication to really doing philosophy? Would you assume the work was autobiographical? Would peers or mentors or hiring committees care? I studied creative writing in college and have been working on fiction projects in my spare time on and off since then and there's one I want to publish. But if there's even a little chance it would hurt my prospects in philosophy, forget it...

I don't think this is a silly question at all. On the contrary, I think it is a great set of questions, ones that draw attention to aspects of the profession and job-market that graduate students and job-candidates should be aware of and think about. Allow me to explain.

Advice on preparing for/taking comp exams?

A reader writes in:

I'd appreciate some advice on comprehensive exams. This fall, I have to do an exam in my proposed area of study, metaphysics. The exam involves a take home portion (answer a number of questions in essay form) and an oral portion on what I've written and the other literature chosen for the exam. I'm nervous about the oral portion of the exam because I've never had to do one before. And there is quite a lot of material that I will be questioned on. It's easy enough to study material and write a paper on it over a longer period of time. But to master the material, retain it, and then respond to questions that I won't have prior knowledge of seems terrifying. Any tips or advice would be much appreciated!

It's been a very long time since I took comp exams, so I'm probably not a very good person to provide advice here. However, I expect that plenty of our readers have recent (or even current) experience preparing for or taking comp exams. So please, if you have any tips or advice, share away!

Job-market discussion thread (2020-21 season)

I know it's just the beginning of August and (sadly, but predictably) very few jobs advertisements have been posted over at PhilJobs and HigherEd Jobs. However, given that this job season is going to be unique--to say the least--and I expect there may be quite a few job-marketeers out there who already want to commiserate about how the market is already looking and how to prepare for it (including for Alt-Ac opportunities), I hereby open this job market discussion thread for the 2020-21 season.

Readers should feel free to discuss job-market matters in this post's comment section as they see fit, provided the discussion conforms to the blog's safe and supportive mission. As a rough rule of thumb, readers are expected to refrain from posting aggressive comments that can be reasonably interpreted as undermining a safe and supportive environment. As moderator, I will intervene if need be to let people know why I have elected not to approve their comments, so as to keep the discussion positive.

One other important thing. As in past years, the Cocoon will ultimately have two job-market threads this year:

1. A job-market discussion thread (the present thread): to commisserate about the market, discussing particular job ads, the market in general, questions about application materials, interviewing, alt-ac opportunities, and so on.
2. A job-market reporting thread: to post news about interviews, on-campus visits, offers, rejection notices, etc.

Because someone always asks, "Why two threads?", there are a couple of reasons for it. First, some people may want to discuss the market but not stress over daily news regarding which jobs they still do or don't have a chance for. Conversely, others may not want to discuss the market but just want news about the jobs they've applied for. Second, these threads can get very long already, so I think the best way for people to get the information they want in a well-ordered format is simply to have two threads.

A few final notes:

• Please reserve job-market news (i.e. interviews, on-campus visits, hires, etc.) for the job-market reporting thread, which I will open sometime in September.
• A 'permalink' to this thread will be on the upper right of blog's right sidebar. -->
• Because of Typepad's functionality limitations (which only permits 100 comments before starting a new comment page), readers may elect to bookmark each new page of comments (or update their previous bookmark) as each new page emerges. I recognize that is can be frustrating to scroll through page after page to get to new comments, and I think this is probably the best solution.

All that being said, this discussion thread is now open. 

When should one start trying to publish?

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

[I]s it ever too early to be trying to publish? if so, what are the downsides of trying to publish too early?

[M]ore specifically, I'm an incoming first year phd student at a top program and I have a couple of articles drafted that I want to try to get out into the world. [I]f I were still in undergrad, I'd have a trusted advisor read them and advise me, but I'm not. I don't have any relationship with people at my soon to be grad school yet, and because of the pandemic, I don't want to assume that I'll be interacting much with potential advisors this fall, or sending them independent work to read. [T]he way I see it, there wouldn't be much harm in sending off my articles to good journals and hopefully getting some helpful comments from reviewers (or, unlikely but very best case, actually getting published!) since reviews are anonymous, right? Or am I missing something?

Good questions! One reader chimed in with a negative answer:

Yes it is too early. Undergraduates should not bother publishing, unless you were told you were the next Saul Kripke. And you should not send undergrad papers to journals to get feedback. It is not that kind of service. Referees referee for free, and they do so on the understanding that a colleague - an equal - is sending in a manuscript that they have some reason to believe is a contribution to the professional literature. You are missing something.

I also think it is too early. There are two fairly obvious downsides for this reader attempting to publish their papers right now: (1) the papers might not be all that good, and (2) if they were to publish stuff that's not all that good, it could affect their long term prospects as well as their reputation among faculty in their grad program. The only potential downside to not publishing right now is that someone else will publish papers defending similar arguments before they do (which, to be clear, could be a serious downside!). Fortunately, there seems to me to be a fairly obvious solution here. Let me explain.

Listing one's dissertation committee on the CV?

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

Should junior TT faculty, who are trying to do things such as get another TT job or secure a book contract with a good academic press, list their dissertation committee members on their CV?

Karen Kelsky advises against it because by her lights it makes one seem much more like a junior scholar or maybe even a graduate student.

But, on the other hand, both search committees and academic press suffer from prestige bias. So, one might think that if one's dissertation committee is very famous, one should include them on one's CV.

Interesting question! I would have thought the obvious answer here is, "Yes", for basically the prestige-related reasons (if you have particularly well-known committee members listed on the first page, that could catch someone's eye). But Kelsky's reasoning sort of makes sense as well, and I've heard similar things from others in the profession (i.e. you want to 'look like an equal' rather than someone who sees themselves still as a 'junior' scholar).

Any readers in the know have any thoughts on this?

Ageism on the academic job-market?

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

I am an older graduate student (circa 40) who, in the coming years, expects to go on the academic job market. In your experience, is it true that older candidates are often looked at less favorably than younger candidates? Is there some sense that, with a younger candidate, it is more likely that "her best work is ahead of her"? To the extent that this age bias is prevalent, are there ways for older candidates to mitigate its impact? More specifically, are there particular worries about older candidates that they might be able to address in their application materials?

These are important questions. We had a discussion about ageism and grad program admissions a while back. However, to my recollection we've never had a discussion about ageism and the job-market. On the one hand, I'm tempted to say--on the basis of our grad program discussion and my own experience on search committees--that I don't think ageism (particularly against someone in their 40s) is likely to be a big issue. On the other hand, ageism in job-markets in general is (sadly) well-established. Further, it would not surprise me much if age discrimination is highly implicit, with those who engage in it not able to reliably introspect their own motives. 

Anyway, I'm curious what readers think, both about the existence of ageism in academic job-markets and about what applicants might do to mitigate its potential impact. Anyone have any experience or insights here?

Summer sounds