The Philosophers' Cocoon

Which criteria do you use as a journal referee?

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

I am a junior faculty member and started to receive referee requests. I am curious about people's criteria for recommendations (acceptance, minor revision, major revision, and rejection, among others).

In addition to any general thoughts, I am particularly interested in hearing your thoughts on the following two questions. First, do you take the "quality" of a journal into consideration? For example, is it reasonable to think, "this paper is not good enough for Phil Review or PPR, but for this journal, sure, it should be accepted"? I feel that this sounds pretty normal, but I also know that people do not like journal rankings. If the quality of a journal should be considered, what is your standard? Do you implicitly or explicitly follow a specific ranking such as the survey by Leiter?

Second, is there a principle that you follow when you make your recommendations? To be honest, the rejections that I received usually raised some objections to my arguments. Is it a good principle that if you can find an objection to the author's main argument, then you should (probably) reject the paper? Do you recommend direct acceptance only when you cannot find a good objection? Thank you!

Good questions! Another reader submitted the following reply:

[E]veryone follows different criteria for their verdict. But I often take the quality of the journal into account while deciding whether my comments and feedback mean accept/r&r/reject. This is not because of the quality of the paper, but because of the ratio of space available in those journals to the volume of submissions. This naturally implies a higher level of selectivity than perhaps otherwise merited. Re. how I evaluate my accept/r&r/reject verdicts: I do not take any objection to an argument to be a reason to reject a paper. A straightforward rejection usually takes me to believe that no small amount of work could salvage a novel, interesting and close-to-being-sound argument/idea from the paper. Sometimes this is an objection to the main claim of the paper and sometimes it is about how well-formulated the claim and the case for the claim in the paper are. If the paper is well-structured and interesting, but you have a prominent objection to one of the main parts of the paper, I think it usually worth giving the author to revise the paper and after the revision, if the problem is still there, then reject it (the caveats about journal rankings apply here as well).

And one other reader wrote in:

(1) I usually only really consider originality and specialisation in this. So, if I review something for the British Journal for Philosophy of Science, I recognise they are looking for groundbreaking work and am hesitant to recommend a decent and correct but not very novel paper. Or, if I review for Foundations of Physics I realise that they are more open to somewhat technical stuff than, say, Synthese. But I wouldn't otherwise make a difference in 'quality'. (2) I definitely don't think only papers without any potential objections to them deserve acceptance. The distinction I try to make is: is this an objection that should really be addressed in the paper, or is it an objection that could itself form a significant part of the literature? If it's the former, then I would urge a revision, or in some cases a rejection. If it's the latter, I am happy to accept the paper - the fact that someone else can object to it in a way that is itself of interest only proves that the paper under review pushes the literature forward in some way!

What about the rest of you? Which criteria do you use as a journal referee? And do you tailor your standards to different journal types or rankings?

 

Philosophical friends and epistemic partiality in friendship

The history of philosophy is replete with passionate, deep, and inspiring philosophical friendships.

Consider Huizi and Zhuangzi, Elisabeth of Bohemia and René Descartes, David Hume and Adam Smith, Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, Isabelle Stengers and Bruno Latour, and the “Somerville Quartet” of women philosophers in Oxford during and after the Second World War, Elizabeth Anscombe, Philippa Foot, Iris Murdoch and Mary Midgley. Two recent books have been devoted to the lives of this group of friends, Metaphysical Animals (by Mac Cumhaill and Rachael Wiseman) and The Women are up to Something (by Benjamin Lipscombe).

 

Postcard from Iris Murdoch to Philippa Foot, 1959. Credit: Kingston University Archives

The Somerville Quartet

In her essay review of both books, Jennifer Frey highlights the epistemic benefits of philosophical friendship. It afforded these women a unique way of doing philosophy, that is, a unique set of philosophical practices that Frey did not think possible when she was an undergraduate, and when philosophy was presented to her (as it is to many of us) as masculine and solitary:

What is so startling and attractive about the love between Anscombe and Foot is that in spite of all their differences—of temperament, religion, class background, appearance, domestic circumstances and even politics and morals—they were able to draw close together based on their mutual desire to see their way through the philosophical problems that had gripped their imaginations and to make progress in their own search for a philosophical account of human experience. At the root of their affection lay a common goal—a search for insight and answers to the questions that were troubling them, a struggle they undertook together over the course of their lives in a spirit of cooperation and mutual aid. They did not always agree, but their respect for one another’s minds anchored their friendship.—Frey, The Somerville Quartet, The Point Magazine 2022

Epistemic Partiality

In the epistemic partiality literature, started by an influential paper by Sarah Stroud (2006), the thought is often that we should (or in fact should not) lower the epistemic bar for our friends. Stroud fleshes this out in the following way: the distinctive phenomenology and attitudes of friendship prompts us to adopt a set of unique doxastic practices that apply to our friends, such as believing them more readily then we would strangers, or treating negative accounts about our friends with excessive scrutiny. Differently put, we are biased when we deal with our friends. Epistemic partiality in friendship might mean that we “violate the standards of epistemology,” as Sandy Goldberg summarizes it.

But I wonder if we should flatten the epistemology of friendship in this way as just adopting different (lower) standards to certain propositions. Philosophical friendships show that the epistemology of reasoning with your friends indeed is subject to a distinctive set of norms and practices, but these do not merely amount to lowering the bar. Let me speculate how this might be.

Listing declined conference talks on a CV?

In our newest "how can we help you?" thread, a grad student asks:

For conferences which we've been accepted to, but we've decline/withdrawn (e.g. due to conflicts in schedule, teaching committment, lack of funding, etc.), do we still list them on our CV and indicate 'withdrawn'?

Another reader submitted the following reply:

Absolutely do not list conferences for which you were accepted but then declined. They are in no sense an accomplishment, and to be frank with you, when you list a number of these I would be inclined to think you are unreliable (and other bad words). A cv lists ONLY accomplishments. That is standard. And repeatedly withdrawing from conference programs is not a virtue - it is a vice. I have had to withdraw myself, most recently because of significant illness. But I would not dare list such things on my c.v.

I expect other readers will probably agree with this, but I think I have seen people list talks that were canceled for one reason or another (e.g., the COVID pandemic, a weather disaster, etc.). I also think it's unfortunate if people like the OP have to turn down a bunch of talks, as that can obviously impact their career. But, having been a grad student, I know it's the reality, as grad student stipends can be small and conference funding hard to come by. So, I empathize with the OP's plight.

Do any other readers have any tips or insights to share here?

How can we help you? (October 2023)

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

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.

As usual, feel free to ask questions on anything (within the Cocoon's mission) that you could use help with, including but not limited to:

• The job-market (applying for jobs, etc.)
• Issues in the profession (including issues of social justice)
• Graduate school
• Publishing
• Teaching
• Work-life balance
• Mental health & well-being
• Personal struggles
• Etc.

Ask away - we're here to help! 

Important reminder: if you submit a comment in this thread responding to someone's query, I won't post it, as this makes it difficult for me to keep track of everything in the comments section, particularly which queries I've started new threads on and which ones I have not. However, if you do post a follow-up comment, chances are good that I will post it in the new thread I start on the relevant query. So, do feel free to submit responses. Just know that they won't appear in this particular thread and might instead appear later in a new post.

Practices for listing "online first"/forthcoming papers on a CV?

A reader writes in,

Has PC done anything, or have you heard much, on citation practices on a CV for forthcoming work? For instance, does one cite a current-year paper that doesn’t yet have a volume and page numbers assigned always as “forthcoming,” or as the year (without page #s/volume), or whichever they wish? Wondering if there is something like a consensus in the profession, or some indication from the APA or Chicago Manual of Style, etc. People I’ve asked leave it as "forthcoming.” Thank you!

I think we may have discussed this before, but frankly I've always found it terribly confusing myself. For example, I've had papers "published Online First" with journals several years before they are assigned to an issue. In one sense, the paper has already been published (there it is on the journal's website, formatted and everything!), but in another sense it's still "forthcoming." So, how should one list it on a CV for the job-market, tenure and promotion, or in an annual performance review? 

Is there any consensus on this?

Working outside of philosophy while ABD?

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

Do you know of cases where people take other jobs (non-TA jobs) outside of the university while finishing a dissertation? I can make more outside of the academy in fewer hours than if I were TAing because of a particular skill set I have, and I want to be able to live with my partner who is in another state. I've only heard about this in other fields, but not philosophy. For context, I feel 50/50 about going into academia or into industry. Have people seen successful or unsuccessful examples of this in philosophy?

Good questions! I'm curious to hear from readers on this. I guess I'd worry a bit about being distracted too much from finishing the dissertation. But then again, the OP says they could make a significant amount of money working fewer hours than they do now. Given that they are only 50/50 on going into academia and working outside of their university would enable them to live with their partner, the positives might well outweigh the risks.

But these are just a few of my quick reactions. It would be great to hear from readers who have tried this! Were you able to work outside of academia while finishing up your dissertation? How did it go?

How to go about co-authoring papers?

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

How do people go about coauthoring papers? It seems everyone is working on different topics, yet it looks like more and more people are working together on papers. It is unclear to me how to initiate projects with other people. I also feel too socially awkward/inept to ask to work with other people and also have some self-doubt that I may not be good enough to work on projects that are slightly outside of my research focus. Any tips?

Good questions! I've co-authored a few papers, and if I recall correctly, for the most part I just approached people with an idea who I thought might be able to bring their expertise to bear on parts of the project that were a bit beyond mine. As my father once told me, if you ask for assistance, generally speaking the worst that can happen is that people say no. It may be helpful, however, if you have some previous interactions with the people you approach, such as at conferences, on social media, etc.

Anyway, these are all the tips that I have. Do any other readers have any helpful tips?

Thriving as an introvert in academia?

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

I'm wondering if the introverts out there can provide some advice on being an introvert in academia. In the earlier years of my PhD, when I could mostly stay sequestered in my office alone doing research, I felt like I was thriving. This term, I'm teaching two courses as I wrap things up. And sometimes I find it overwhelming. I love teaching. I am energized while doing it. And I have no trouble staying on top of my workload. But I find the act of teaching itself absolutely draining. And god forbid I get stuck in the department talking to folks on days that I have to teach. I love what I do. But I wish I was less introverted. To be clear, introverted people are not shy. Introverted people feel emotionally and mentally drained by social interaction with others.

Does anyone have tips for coping and/or thriving as an introvert in academia?

This is a great query!

Do any introverts out there have any helpful tips/advice to share?

Diversifying examples in papers?

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

I've noticed that in recent papers, philosophers are starting to include more diverse (non-Anglophone) names for people in their examples and thought experiments. This seems reasonable but also challenging (how to choose when writing? how to pronounce when discussing?). What's the normative status of this practice? Would it hurt one's chances for publishing or send a negative message if one were to stick with Alice and Bob?

I have no idea. I tend to stay away from giving vignettes/hypothetical examples in my work, so I've never run into this problem. 

What do you all think?

Visa/IHS assistance for foreign academics in the UK?

In our September "how can we help you?" thread, Academic Migrant writes:

For foreign academics working in the UK, has anyone had any luck in getting some assistance with visa application fee or IHS or the application for permanent leave? It's really expensive for people with family, and I'm not sure I can save enough (given the living cost crisis) as the single source of income to pay for the application fee for permanent leave.

Do any readers have any helpful tips or insights?

Tips for grappling with loneliness in the academy?

Last week, we had an eye-opening discussion of loneliness in academic life. For many of us, whether it is moving many times to different jobs in different cities or countries, working in a small department with high teaching and service loads, significant age or interest differences between faculty, etc., a career in academia has turned out to be a lot more isolating/lonely that we probably expected.

Out of respect for the OP, last week's thread avoided sharing tips for grappling with these issues. The OP simply wanted to know how many others in academia have been similarly surprised about how lonely of an existence it is. At the same time, I expect that some readers may be interested in tips on how to handle experiences of loneliness in the profession.

One late stage graduate student, Joshua, posted the following:

the first and central piece of advice I give to new graduate students is to find friends outside of the department. I suspect academics across disciplines who struggle to do this will pretty much always face the issue OP is getting at. I definitely struggled with moving ~600 miles to start grad school and only found good friends outside of my department well into my time here.

I think this may be sound advice to graduate students, and it may even be for some faculty who are grappling with loneliness. Still, as I mentioned in a follow-up comment, it may be very difficult for faculty with high teaching, service, and/or research expectations to make many non-academic friends.

In any case, do any of you have any helpful tips for grappling with loneliness in the academy?

Surviving departmental politics as junior faculty

In our September "how can we help you?" thread, Struggling Dissenter writes:

I am a junior faculty member. Concerning departmental affairs (or any affairs) I tend to have a different opinion than many others. I also tend to get misunderstood. I wonder if there are advice and experience on how to survive departmental meetings and similar decision making scenarios. E.g. Should I be more quiet?

An excellent query, and one that I suspect many new faculty identify with. One reader, Jaded Junior Faculty, submitted the follow response:

Department politics can be a hellhole of wasted energy and bad feelings. If you can stomach it, go to the meetings but stay out of the fray. If you can't keep your opinions to yourself, skip the meetings. I stopped going to meetings about a year ago and my life and job satisfaction and general stress levels improved dramatically. People had been nasty to me, yelled at each other and me, intentionally twisted my words around, accused each other of the worst motives, and so on. I thought I was simply offering my input in a friendly way, but I was "taking sides" on battles that have long been raging. It was shocking, coming from a generally convivial graduate institution. All that to say: These battles are not worth fighting. You will only make yourself and everyone else miserable. Either wait for the worst actors to retire or apply out.

Another reader, Also Dissented, submitted the following reply:

Pick your battles. I was in a department with some unsavory personalities, and I just made sure I only voiced an opposing opinion on the issues that really mattered. So you can let many of the small issues go - nothing will hang on them, at least nothing big. And if you are feeling you are misunderstood, when you raise remarks do it in a more teacherly manner - do not assume that they will understand your concerns. Instead, provide some background or motivation for what you want to say. Eg. "It seems that some of you think we should be teaching so much generally education. I can see your concerns, but I think we need to ensure that the department is seen as cooperative with the administration. And some of these courses can be ideal places to recruit new majors and minors."

I appreciate both perspectives, and suspect that which approach one should take probably depends on a variety of factors, including one's own tolerance for risk and how functional or dysfunctional one's department is. However, in my experience, it can also matter a great deal how you dissent in meetings--to do so, for example, in a charitable way that makes it clear that you're interested in working productively with your colleagues even when you disagree, rather than as an adversary.

Another tip I have is to try to talk to people individually before and outside of departmental meetings. This can not only help you sort of feel out points of agreement and disagreement before meetings or decision-making scenarios occur. It can also be good for forging positive interpersonal relationships with colleagues, showing that you proactively care about what they think as an individual. Moreover, my experience is that conversations may go a lot better outside of the complex dynamics of a group meeting. Finally, once you know how various parties feel individually (and how strongly they feel about various issues), you may be much better prepared to determine before a meeting occurs which battles are "worth fighting", and which forms of dissent are likely to blow up in a bad way (and which you may or may not want to avoid).

Anyway, these are just a few of my thoughts. What are yours?

CFP: Teaching in Hostile Contexts

Alida Liberman writes in:

American Association of Philosophy Teachers Studies in Pedagogy is an anonymously peer-reviewed annual journal dedicated to publishing thematically focused volumes of original works on teaching and learning in philosophy. Each issue is on a special topic with a different guest editor. 

For the next volume, we are seeking traditional essays, short personal reflections, and practical resources about the topic of Teaching in Hostile Contexts. How do we successfully teach, learn, and support each other when we face hostility stemming from governmental restrictions, unsupportive institutional policies, or other forces? We're looking to publish traditional articles, shorter/less formal reflection pieces, and practical resources for advocacy/organizing, and are open to a wide range of approaches.

Speaking as guest editor, I think the topic of loneliness in the profession of philosophy teaching -- whether reflections on the nature of such loneliness, strategies or advice for combatting loneliness, or something else - would be a great fit for the special issue. Please reach out to me ([email protected]) if you have any questions or want to talk more about possible ideas for a submission.

Link to CFP: https://aaptstudies.org/calls/

'Flash philosophy' workshop

Alexandra Gustafson writes in:

Alexandra Gustafson (University of Toronto) and Peter Limberg (of Toronto's The Stoa) cordially invite you to join us for a virtual Flash Philosophy writing workshop on Wednesday, October 18, 10-11:30 am.

What is Flash Philosophy? Philosophy, written in a flash, meant to be read just as quickly (think Gettier's 3-page "Is Justified True Belief Knowledge"). Drawing inspiration from the literary concept of “flash fiction,” this approach accommodates the accelerated tempo of our digital age. These very short works of philosophy are meant to be drafted quickly so that the insights they contain can be disseminated more quickly, enhancing the productivity of philosophical discourse, both among professional philosophers and those outside the discipline.

Workshop participants will have the opportunity to submit their Flash for publication consideration.

Interested parties may RSVP via this link: https://zoom.us/meeting/register/tJArdeiprzMiGtI-q2sqjKlDlVgRsrVTENAe#/registration (please feel free to forward this invitation to anyone you think might be interested.) Questions may be directed to Alexandra ([email protected]).

We look forward to seeing you there!

Loneliness in academic life?

In our newest "how can we help you?" thread, 'One Hundred Semesters of Solitude' writes:

I'd like to initiate a conversation about the unexpected and honestly often quite difficult loneliness of having chosen an academic career. Note that I'm NOT looking for some Cocoon-style "what are *your* thoughts" on how to DEAL with this loneliness. That's partially what therapy is for, and the solutions to loneliness and solitude are pretty well-known regardless of what profession you choose (find hobbies, volunteer, put yourself out there, etc.).

What I'd like to ask is just how many people, like me, have kind of been surprised by how much less of a social network we have than other friends and non-academics at similar career stages. Here's the factors that affect my life, and I'm wondering how common these are. Again, I'm NOT looking for advice.

1) Lack of social connections from past stages of life -- Some people are able to build social circles out of their college or childhood friends and their mutual connections. However, because I chose to pursue a PhD in my 20s and partially because my program was far away from where friends from my BA ended up, I fell out of contact with many if not most of my college connections. None of my friends from college are nearby geographically. So that makes this source of social interaction slim pickins'. How many others have this experience?

2) Lack of social connections from work -- I'm in my mid-30s and I have a TT position in a major city! So I pretty much hit the lottery. However, I've learned that folks in other industries (tech, law, finance, etc.) often find a majority of their friends from their workplace. This is because these other workplaces are largely populated by people in a (1) similar age bracket who (2) are also looking for new social connections.

However, in academia, it's possible that neither of these factors applies. I am the youngest member of my department by a good 10 years and (nearly) everyone else lives in the suburbs with a family. Nobody is really looking for a buddy to go check out bars with on weekends.

Also, my institution (somewhat anecdotally) seems to do a really bad job of connecting its junior faculty with each other. Previously, when I worked at a much smaller institution, there were TT faculty orientations, meet-and-greets, and so on. At my current institution, there's been none of that.

Anyway, these factors have also made this source of social interactions very hard. How many others have experienced this?

3) The inherent social isolation of academic work -- The other obvious factor that makes it hard to develop meaningful social connections at work is that, unlike say tech or law or finance, academic work in the humanities is almost entirely solo. Most of us aren't running labs, with grad students and postdocs filing in and out and so on. And barring the odd committee assignment where people aren't rushing to leave the Zoom room, literally all of my work is conducted by myself.

I write by myself. I lesson prep by myself. Teaching isn't technically "by yourself," but you all know that it practically is, since undergrads are basically automata a little less able than ChatGPT (only barely joking). It's possible to work an entire semester quite productively without an actual interaction with another person, and I think I actually have had more than one such semester.

--
I think these are the biggest couple of factors, but other additional factors might include whether someone is romantically paired or single, the fact that academics work a unique kind of schedule, and so on.

Again, I'm NOT looking for advice on how to make friends, etc. I'm just curious as to how many other Cocooners have noticed and perhaps been surprised by the loneliness that comes with academic life.

I suspect this query resonates with a lot of people, particularly those who work in small departments with high teaching loads. It definitely resonates with me. My university does a good job of building connections between junior faculty, but otherwise, all three of the OP's major points apply to me. 

What about you all? Have you found your career in academia unexpectedly lonely? If so, for what reasons--the same as the OP's?

Tips from Search Committee Members: how do you evaluate candidates in first-round interviews?

The first seven posts in this series examined how hiring committees read and evaluate CVs, cover letters, research statements, teaching statements, diversity statements, writing samples, and letters of recommendation. Let's now turn to first-round interviews.

If you've served on a search committee,

1. How do you and the other members of the committee approach first-round interviews?
2. What sorts of things come across well in interviews?
3. What sorts of things come across poorly?
4. Any other tips for candidates?

Please do feel free to share any insights that job-candidates might find helpful!

Disclosing you are LGBTQ+ in a cover letter?

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

The consensus on the 10/4 post seemed to be that sharing personal information that would reduce appearing to be a flight risk is a good thing, at least wrt a partner living near the job.

Would such disclosure be helpful to do even when the fact is something different like "I really love the area" or "I am LGBTQ+ and this university is in an area with a large LGBTQ+ community?"

My worry is that sharing this kind of information might lead someone to worry you aren't as serious about working at the SCHOOL itself, meaning they might worry that you won't be an engaged department member, etc.

Of course, I could see it only being a good idea to make both the case that the location is ideal AND the job/department is ideal, which I'm sure I will do, but I just want to make sure people seem to agree that including discussions of location wouldn't hurt and could only help one's chances (provided that the case is also made that the job itself is a good fit)

Good question. Another reader submitted the following reply:

I would save your LGBTQ+ status for an in-person conversation, not a application letter. If you are at a campus, then you can assess whether with a bunch of bigots or whether you are with tolerant people. Incidentally, as a letter writing for someone, I mentioned their military background, in part, because in the USA that is a protected class. It may have been awkward for them to mention in their application letter, but I did it in a manner that, I think, helped. They got the job they wanted.

I'm curious to hear what other people think. For one thing, if the OP would prefer not to pursue or accept a job in a department where there are people prejudiced against them (which would be completely understandable), then maybe disclosing their identity in a letter could be a good thing. Further, given that many search committees seem to be concerned about flight risks, disclosing reasons why the applicant would want to remain at the university and city might help the candidate.  

Do any readers have any helpful experiences or other insights relating to the OP's query?

Working as instructor at your alma mater if you strike out on the job market?

In our newest "how can we help you?" thread, Tom asks:

I'm on the job market this fall. I'm wondering what my prospects are like if I strike out this round. My plan would be to just stick around my alma mater and do sessional instructing. Would this hurt me when I apply to jobs again next year?

Good question—I’m not sure. What do you all think?

Disclosing in an on-campus interview that you have a partner in the region?

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

This is not a situation I have encountered yet, but one which I am wondering about nevertheless. I have a position at a university in a different city than that of my partner (another academic). I am still planning to be on the market in the coming years, but selectively: I'm only applying to jobs that are close to where my partner has their position. If I were to get an on-campus interview, I was wondering what to do about mentioning my two-body problem to faculty members at the interviewing institution. On the one hand, I'd be reticent to do this because I try not to talk too much about my personal life and don't want to give off the impression that I'm only applying to the job to solve this problem. On the other hand, I figure it might be helpful for the department to know that I am not as much of a "flight risk" once hired. Not sure how to think through this - I'd appreciate any thoughts.

One reader submitted the following reply:

If your partner is someone who already has a job, such that you won't be seeking a position for them at any university that hires you, you should absolutely mention this situation (and your partner's happily employed status). The jobs to which you apply will wonder why you're leaving your current position, will be sympathetic to your situation once they learn of it, and will be happy you're not likely to leave if they employ you.

This sounds right to me. In my experience (which is admittedly anecdotal), worries about flight risks are relatively common. So if you indicate that you have some reason to want to remain at the university, that might be an advantage--and again, it would help to explain why you are leaving your current position too. So, I'm not sure there's much to be lost by disclosing this, and perhaps something to be gained.

But these are just my thoughts. What are yours? 

Grammatical mistakes in job apps?

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

How much do small grammatical mistakes cost you in your job application materials? I ask because when I tweak my materials for particular jobs, I'm prone to making small mistakes. Are these forgivable in the eyes of a committee, or do they provide reason for tossing an app? I want to know how much attention I need to give to proofing and re-proofing each and every document prior to sending them off!

I'm not the best proof-reader myself, and I suspect if there's just a stray error or two, it won't be too big of a deal. But if your application materials are rife with editing errors, I suspect that probably will count against you. One reader submitted a response that basically agrees with this:

Grammatical mistakes and small typos aren't great, but now that we require applicants to produce so many documents, every application has them. Don't get sloppy and unprofessional, but as long as you're within a normal range, no one will toss your application for this reason.

But another reader noted that some people might be sticklers on this kind of stuff:

First, some people do care about small grammatical mistakes - I had a colleague who would really hold it against applicants. And given the great number of applicants, it was difficult to want to fight with her over an applicant who had a sloppy letter. Further, a central part of our trade is publishing, and if you are not catching errors in application letters, you are probably not going to catch them in your proofs for publications. "Big deal" ... perhaps. But it does make you look careless. I would recommend applying for fewer positions, and taking more time with each application.

Anyway, it would be good to hear from other search committee members. How big of a deal is this to you?

Staying engaged in philosophy without (the need for) a job?

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

Suppose that you are exempt from trying to get a job and all that (you win the lottery, you decide to stay in the parental basement, etc.). How would you maximize your engagement in philosophy? e.g., if you faced no need to publish articles/ get peer approval, would you work on one big book, or write in a dialogue format, or abandon text and start doing street epistemology, go full Diogenes? etc. Put another way; stripping out all the trappings/context in which we are constrained to philosophize, how would you do it, ideally?

Interesting questions. One reader submitted the following reply:

I think your question needs to be fleshed out a bit. It all depends what one values and who one wants as an audience. If you want to write a book, and you want it to be read by professional philosophers, you are best to pursue a professional career, and aim to published with a strong reputable publisher (think OUP or CUP). But if you want to write a popular book, with a broad readership in mind, perhaps one can do that outside of the academy. But then you need to have some means for people be attracted to your book - when was the last time you read a book by someone living in their parents' basement? Look on your bookshelf - how many of the authors live in their parents' basement?

There are, of course, many authors who write popular books outside of academia, including ones who write on philosophical issues (see Sam Harris). But it's also presumably very difficult to find success and to do good work this way. This is probably the route that I'd try to go--either that or podcasting, or writing on a Substack, or some such. Not sure.

What about the rest of you? If you were freed from the trappings of an academic job, how would you stay engaged with philosophy (assuming, of course, you'd want to!).

Doing a PhD under a prominent philosopher at a mid-ranked department?

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

I am an undergraduate student planning to apply to philosophy grad programs. I found a prominent philosopher (perhaps almost everyone here knows) at a middle-ranked uni ( about #100-150 in QS ranking in philosophy). It would be great if I could be supervised by him/her. My concern is about job hunting: if I get a "Ph.D. from [middle-ranked uni] supervised by [prominent philosopher]", how does that work in the philosophy job market? I'd appreciate your honest opinion!

Good question. Another reader submitted the following reply:

Within analytic philosophy, I don't think the QS rankings are held in much regard at all. While it is rather controversial, insofar as philosophers adhere to any particular ranking, it is the Philosophical Gourmet Report – though, again, I stress this is a controversial issue. But, imho, if you lack a mentor from your BA program who is knowledgeable about the field these days and can advise you specifically (i.e., someone who is not super junior, and not super out of touch and isolated), the PGR is probably your best option for getting a very rough idea of how different programs are regarded in the discipline at large. Again, only a very rough idea; do not take it for the Lord's gospel truth. Also look at the specialist rankings. Given your question, it sounds like you already have an idea of what you want to specialise in. Having said that, I will say that one major advantage of attending a more well-rounded program with strengths in lots of areas is that you'll have room to grow and change your plans. Often that happens during the PhD. Think of it like diversification. There's some reason to not go to a program that is strong in only one, niche thing.

I wonder what other readers think. My sense is that the program you attend is probably more important in terms of job prospects than the person who supervises you. Then again, I know of some really good and successful people who didn't receive their PhD from a top program, and it's their work that seems to have set them apart. So I'm not sure.

Do any readers with more experience in these matters care to weigh in?