The Philosophers' Cocoon

Still on grad school wait lists?

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

I am an international student who applied to PhD programs in the US this past application round. I was rejected by all schools except for one, which put me on a waitlist of six in mid-April with me being “high on the list.” Yet to this day there is no final word on my application, neither via email nor through the application portal. I emailed the DGS two months ago for an update but didn’t hear back. My question is: is it all too common to have an application pending at this time of the year? Thanks!

Good question. One reader submitted the following reply:

I would email the DGS again and ask; it is highly unusual that they still haven’t notified you about the outcome. Best of luck!

But another reader added:

I recall a friend being admitted to a law school program on Sept 1 - after being short listed - and the school term began in 6 or 7 days. That is an extreme case, but it happens. He ended up finishing about 12th in his class (which is quite high). And I do recall a few late entries where I did my grad school in philosophy.

It does seem to me to be extremely late to still be on a wait list, but you never know. Do any other readers (either grad students or grad admissions committee members) have any helpful insights to share?

Deciding whether to review a paper?

In our newest "how can we help you?" thread, an early grad student writes:

I'm wondering how to decide whether to referee a paper. I just got my first request, and from what I can gather from the abstract, this doesn't seem like an editorial call I'm particularly qualified to make. Would appreciate any thoughts.

This is a great query. Another reader (an editor) submitted the following reply:

Do not agree to referee a paper you believe you are not qualified to referee. Referees are to give their expert opinion - if you are not an expert, then your opinion is irrelevant.

I think this seems right as far as it goes (if a bit blunt!), but I'm curious whether we might be able to give the OP more helpful positive advice. How do you decide whether to review a paper? 

How often to meet with committee members?

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

I don’t meet a lot with my committee members and they’re quite hands-off but I know some people that meet theirs very regularly. I feel like I’m falling behind a lot, and I want to meet them more but I’m slow at putting out work to show them. So I’m wondering how often did you meet with your supervisor and other committee members, and how often do those on committees want us to meet?

This is an excellent question, and I'm curious what readers' answers are. Although it's obviously been a while since I've been in grad school, my sense is that one of the most serious and common errors that grad students make is to avoid meeting consistently enough with their committee members, or at least with their dissertation supervisor. Let me explain.

When to submit to journals in grad school?

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

I'm sure you get questions like this all the time so feel free to direct me to an answer if one already exists. But does anyone have a good metric for when a paper is ready to submit for publication as an early to mid stages grad student - when someone tells you you might get a publication out of it? It's accepted at any conference? It's accepted at an APA? You just feel good enough about it!? I assume none of these things are necessary, but do people take any to be sufficient?

These are excellent questions. I feel like we have discussed these issues sometime before, but if we have I can't quite track them down. My sense is that the best thing to do here is probably to have a few faculty in one's grad program read the paper to see whether they think it is ready. What do you all think?

Preparing grad students to teach (Guest post by Tim O'Keefe)

Tim O’Keefe is Professor and Director of Graduate Studies at Georgia State University’s Department of Philosophy.

Graduate students do a lot of the teaching at their universities, and for those who go on to work in academia, teaching is a substantial and important—for many, the most substantial and important—part of their jobs. But by and large, philosophy programs do little to prepare their graduate students to teach. My own experience was the “sink or swim” model, with a lot more sinking than swimming, and my impression is that that model is still widespread. Although I hope that I’m wrong and things have improved, a 2016 study concludes that, on the whole, “the discipline of philosophy requires no, and offers little, teacher training for graduate students.” (Here is that article, and a version that isn’t paywalled.)

The terminal M.A. program in Georgia State University’s Department of Philosophy is unusual in two respects. Almost all of our students are responsible for teaching their own courses in their second year, with most teaching Critical Thinking, but a fair number teaching Intro to Philosophy or Intro to Ethics. (This past Fall semester, we had 37 sections of Critical Thinking taught by our graduate students, and 10 sections of Introduction to Philosophy or Introduction to Ethics.) And with so much of our teaching done by graduate students in just their second year of graduate school, we’ve developed an extensive teacher training program, because we owe it both to our graduate students and to the undergraduates they’re responsible for.

In “Preparing Graduate Students to Teach: One Model,” George Rainbolt and Sandy Dwyer describe Georgia State’s program. (The article starts on page 4 of the linked APA newsletter.) We don’t claim to have the best way to help graduate students learn to teach, but we’ve developed something that has worked well for us. The article isn’t long, but let me summarize it here.

7 Years Later Excerpt #4: Student Evaluations

Given that many of us have just had our semesters conclude, I thought it would be appropriate to share a snippet that focuses on how graduate students should assess the end-of-semester evaluations that they receive from their students. If you have additional or different advice on how to interpret or react to these evaluations, feel free to mention it in the comments.

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At the end of each semester, students will have an opportunity to evaluate their courses. In doing so, they will score you (usually on a 5-point scale) and the course on a wide range of metrics. There is some variance across institutions, but they are typically asked to rate things like how much they learned in the course, how much the instructor helped the students learn, how well the instructor knew the material, how organized the course was, and their perceptions of the course as a whole. If you’re a teaching assistant, the questions will be a little more specific to your interactions with students in discussion sections.

As you will learn after your first semester of teaching, reading these evaluations can be disheartening. Even if the numerical scores are reasonably good, there will almost always be some written comments that are not very complimentary. Sometimes, they will insult your character. Other times, they will disparage your course or your teaching style or make weird insinuations about your personal beliefs. What’s the appropriate reaction to student evaluations?

The first important piece of advice is not to overreact. Student evaluations are notoriously unreliable indicators of the quality of instruction. Here are a few of their documented shortcomings:

• The empirical literature on student evaluations generally shows that they do not correlate with student learning or teaching effectiveness.
• Course evaluations tend to correlate with students’ expected grades. Other things equal, an easier course – where a higher number of A grades are given – will result in more favorable evaluations than a more difficult course. As a result, some have argued that student evaluations contribute to grade inflation and encourage less rigorous teaching.
• Typically, all students enrolled in your course will be allowed to complete course evaluations, even if they do not regularly attend class. Thus, some students who complete evaluations may have a deeply inaccurate sense of what a typical class session is like.
• Student evaluations can be affected significantly by arbitrary factors, such as whether or not students have access to cookies when completing their evaluations.
• Student evaluations tend to be biased against female instructors. Overall, men are perceived as more knowledgeable and as having better leadership skills even though students appear to learn just as much from women as men. These biases may be more pronounced in large courses.
• Even assuming these evaluations are unbiased and reliable measures of student learning, they are still too imprecise to be an accurate way of assessing the quality of instructors’ teaching relative to their peers.

There are also other problems associated with interpreting student feedback even if we bracket these considerations. One common problem, especially in larger courses, is that written feedback on these assessments tends to be internally inconsistent. Sometimes you may see one comment that praises your passion for teaching while another laments that you are not enthusiastic about teaching. One student will regard your lectures as boring while another praises them as extremely interesting. The most recent example of this in my own teaching occurred when I received comments that said one of my courses contained too many readings and contained too much material while simultaneously receiving comments that said the course did not cover enough content. When you have directly contradictory feedback, it is often difficult to know which perspective is more accurate.

Another problem is that students sometimes base their assessments of your teaching on claims that are just plain false. Students will claim you do nothing but lecture even if you devote significant class time to discussion and other in-class activities. They may accuse you of grading short answer responses based solely on whether you agree with their opinion. In some cases, they will make remarks that demonstrate that they do not understand course policies. Written feedback based on demonstrably false claims should be disregarded.

As a teaching assistant, you will also sometimes be held accountable for things beyond your control. Students might comment on your evaluations that they did not like the exam formats or textbook choice, but as a teaching assistant, the primary instructor makes decisions about course content and assessment. You will usually have extremely limited – if any – influence on these choices. Students may also make direct comparisons between you and the instructor: a charismatic and experienced professor may indirectly cause you to be scored lower than you would be otherwise since you will look worse by comparison.

Overall, you should approach end-of-semester evaluations with a healthy skepticism. However, these evaluations do often play a role in tenure, promotion, and the distribution of teaching awards. They will also be an important component of your teaching portfolio if you elect to apply for academic jobs. Thus, they should not be ignored. As a general rule, you should strive to maintain about a 4/5 (or equivalent) on your numerical evaluation scores once you get a few years into graduate school. Evaluations with these scores will generally keep you competitive with other applicants: higher scores are obviously better, but most faculty are aware of the problems with student evaluations. Hiring decisions are unlikely to be made solely based on marginal differences in the numerical scores on student evaluations.

Use your initial teaching experiences as opportunities to define your teaching style and improve your weaknesses. Look for patterns in your student evaluations, and if you notice that you are persistently scoring low on a metric, then take some steps to address that in future courses. Most importantly, seek feedback from faculty in your department – especially those who observe your teaching directly – about ways in which you can improve. As you get better at teaching competently, your evaluations should improve (unless they were very high to begin with). Finally, remember that it will often be impossible to please everyone: some students, despite your best efforts, will not like you or your class. So do not lose sleep over occasional negative feedback. It’s a persistent feature of almost all evaluations, even those that are excellent overall.

Tips for running a reading group?

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

I am thinking of running a reading group with a few early graduate students, some of which [are] working with myself. But I don't have much experience with this. I can imagine different options for the structure, content, etc. I would be grateful if you could share you advice and experience.

This is a great query. Anyone have any helpful tips on what works well (and what doesn't)?

7 Years Later Excerpt #3: Teaching Competently

In the previous post in this series, I discussed how to approach leading discussion sections. This time around, I'm broadening the scope to the fundamentals of teaching competently. I'll have at least one more post on teaching after this. Afterwards, I'll probably turn to some other aspects of graduate school, such as long-term planning or job market preparation. 

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When you first start teaching, you might think you should aspire to do it well. By teaching well, I mean teaching in ways that captivate students, educate them effectively, assess their mastery fairly and comprehensively, provide ample support to students in need, and respect university guidelines and regulations. In the abstract, this all sounds great, and it’s an admirable ambition to want to teach well. However, for those new to teaching, it’s not realistic. Teaching well requires a level of skill and expertise that early career teachers will almost never be able to achieve. Even the few newcomers to teaching who have the ability to teach well should probably not try to teach well at that stage of their careers. This notion might strike you as counterintuitive, so let me elaborate a bit.

Teaching well is difficult and requires a substantial amount of time if you aren’t an experienced instructor. I recall anecdotes of graduate students telling me about how they devoted 30-40 hours per week to teaching a single course of 25-30 students. Those courses may have been amazing, but this behavior is not admirable or prudent. As a graduate student, you must balance teaching responsibilities with a variety of other goals: making progress toward your degree, submitting papers to conferences and journals, participating in department events, and so on. Devoting 30-40 hours per week to teaching a single course does not leave enough time to adequately prioritize these other commitments – at least not if one wants to maintain good mental health and avoid burnout. Moreover, once you finish graduate school, you will never be able to devote that amount of time to a single course. If you obtain a faculty position, you will probably teach at least 3 courses per term, and they might all be different subjects: you definitely won’t be able to devote 30-40 hours to each one. That means you should aim to develop teaching strategies that can later be extended to contexts where your teaching load is significantly higher.

Here’s the general point: trying to be an exemplary teacher when you’re just getting started with solo teaching is not an appropriate goal. Instead, you should aim to teach competently. As I use this phrase, teaching competently means to teach in a satisfactory or acceptable, but not outstanding, way. Teaching competently involves the same general goals as teaching well but sets the standard for success a bit lower. You don’t need to captivate students to teach competently: it suffices to maintain the motivation of those who are engaged and avoid turning off the remaining students. Teaching competently does not require that you be a master of test design and assessment –  something that requires many courses’ worth of exam creation and refinement – it is enough to design your exams so that course content and exam material align and that students have clear expectations regarding exam content.

7 Years Later Excerpt #2: Leading Discussion Sections

By Trevor Hedberg

In the last entry, I discussed how to handle grade inquiries. This time around, I consider how to lead discussion sections -- one of the other core responsibilities of a typical teaching assistant.

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As a teaching assistant, one of your central responsibilities will usually be leading 1-3 discussion sections each week of the semester. Typically, you’ll have 20-30 students in each section, and they will last 50 minutes, but there is some variance across institutions. So what exactly do you do to lead a discussion section? To some extent, it will depend on the instructor. In some instances, the instructor wanted me to cover some new material during these discussion sections; in other cases, I was told to just get the students talking and not worry about presenting any new course content. Sometimes, I was asked to administer quizzes or conduct assignments; sometimes, I didn’t have to do that.

The one key aspect of a discussion section is that you are supposed to get the students to discuss aspects of the course content. This might seem pretty basic, but you may not receive much direct instruction on how to get the students talking productively. (Some faculty members seem to think that graduate students will just figure it out.) Moreover, if a discussion section is not going well – that is, if the students aren’t talking – then it can get very uncomfortable very quickly. Additionally, if students feel like discussion sections are boring or pointless, their disengagement will get more pronounced as the semester progresses. That’s an outcome you obviously want to avoid, so here are some pointers on having good discussion sections:

• Always present a bit of material to the students – even if it is not required. You might think that you can just come to class with a list of prepared questions about the week’s material, ask the students those questions, and see where the conversation goes. That might work sometimes, but it’s unreliable. Some students will not have done the assigned readings for the week, and some students probably missed at least one of the week’s lectures. That means a large portion of students may not be familiar enough with the material to respond to your questions productively. Thus, you should always present a little material to the students, even if it is only a few of some of the key ideas or themes that were already covered in the week’s main lectures.
• Don’t base all your questions on the reading material. Echoing an important point above, you cannot assume that everyone in class (or even most of the students in class) will have read and understood the assigned reading for the week. If you want to dig into a key idea from the reading, make sure you review this material with the students first. But in addition to that, make sure you have a few general questions on tap that students can respond to even if they have not read one word of the assigned reading.
• Use thought experiments. Students tend to respond well to thought experiments – the trolley problem, the experience machine, Mary the colorblind neuroscientist, the prisoner’s dilemma, and so on. While there’s a legitimate debate to be had about the usefulness of thought experiments as support for premises in philosophical arguments, they remain effective pedagogical tools for getting students to reflect on philosophical problems. If you can identify a thought experiment that’s relevant to what you’re covering, consider using it 
• Use real-world examples. Many students, especially in introductory level courses that they are taking to fulfill a general education requirement, struggle to see the relevance of philosophy to everyday life. You can diminish that skepticism by basing your discussion in part on real-world cases that illustrate the key concepts for that week’s course material. This strategy may be easier to employ in ethics courses (since ethical dilemmas manifest in the real world frequently), but if you’re creative and willing to do some digging online, you may be surprised what you can find.
• Use videos. Students nowadays read less frequently than students from several decades ago but consume far more visual media. A short, relevant video to get discussion rolling can be effective, especially with the wealth of free, easy-to-browse videos available on YouTube.
• Don’t allow only a few students to dominate discussion. Some students will obviously be more prone to participate in discussion than others, but you don’t want your discussion section of 30 students to consist of you talking exclusively with only a handful of them. If you have trouble getting others to participate, consider having them work in groups or write down an answer to a prompted question at the start of class. Some students will be more comfortable participating when they have written remarks they can read or otherwise use to form their answer.
• Get to know your students. Your discussion sections will usually be small: 20-25 students. Find a way to learn your students’ names – either via the creation of a seating chart, sheer memorization, or some other method. Part of making these discussion sections go well involves crafting a relationship with your students so that they are more willing to participate. Also be willing to talk to them before class officially starts. Be polite, and be approachable.

There are certainly other techniques that could be employed, but these are my starter strategies. Do you all have any others that graduate teaching assistants should employ?

7 Years Later Excerpt #1: Handling Grade Inquiries

By Trevor Hedberg

For the first few excerpts from 7 Years Later, I'm going to focus on teaching. Most do not have much preparation for undergraduate teaching prior to the start of graduate school, and I found it to be one of the more challenging aspects of graduate school when I was getting started.

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One of the more awkward aspects of being a grader, teaching assistant, or instructor is handling students who confront you about the grade they have received. Addressing grade inquiries is an inevitable part of being an instructor – it’s not a situation unique to being a graduate student. No matter how clear your grading criteria or how much class time you devote to recapping mistakes from the most recent exam, there will always be some students who ask you for more information about why they received their grade. However, as a graduate student, these interactions can be particularly vexing since you will have less experience dealing with them. There are at least three distinct types of grade inquiries, and different responses are appropriate to each one.

First, there are grade inquiries that boil down to grade entry errors. One type  involves the score on Canvas or Blackboard (or whatever learning platform your institution uses) not matching the score listed on the assignment itself. Another might involve too many (or too few) points being deducted on a particular question. Imagine a “-3” next to a 30-point question but a numbered score on the page of 25/30. Resolving these kinds of inquiries is straightforward: confirm that there’s a mistake in how the assignment was scored or how the grade was recorded, thank the student for reporting it to you, and correct the score. Obviously, You don’t want these grading errors to happen often – not all students will notice them, which means they sometimes result in inaccurate assessments of students’ knowledge, and persistent errors of this type will cause students to lose confidence in your professional competence. However, you will grade enough assignments that some mistakes of this type will happen. That’s okay; just correct them and move on.

The second type of grade inquiry, which is probably the most common, involves genuine misunderstanding. This is a case where a student sincerely does not understand why they received a particular score on a question or assignment. This could be because written comments given on the assignment were too minimal, they don’t know how to interpret the feedback, or they were absent when you went over the exam in class. Handling these inquiries in philosophy courses tends to be more challenging than doing so in courses like physics or calculus. In STEM courses, instructors can usually reference an answer key and explain how the student made an error in their calculation or defined some term incorrectly. But explaining why a student’s argument is not very strong can be trickier.

Tips for supervising grad students?

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

I am an advanced assistant professor getting ready to start supervising both an MA student and a PhD student for the first time. I would love to hear advice about how to do this well.

This is a great query. I haven't supervised grad students myself, so I'm not sure there's much that I can say. But it would be great to hear from readers--not only those who have experience supervising grad students, but also from grad students themselves! Do any of you have any tips or advice on how to supervise MA and PhD students well? Any do's or don'ts?

Grad school acceptance tips thread

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

With the deadline to accept graduate school offers being about a month away, can we get a thread going on deciding factors and questions to ask current grad students and faculty at programs we've been accepted into? What are some tips to get more of an idea of the climate and other subjective factors at a department during prospective visit days and one-on-one meetings?

These are all excellent questions. Here they are in order:

1. What should one's deciding factors be when determining which grad program to enter?
2. Which questions should one ask current grads and/or faculty of programs one has been accepted into?
3. What are some broader tips for getting an idea of the climate and other subjective factors:
   
   1. During prospective visit days?
   2. More generally?

What do you all think? It would be great to hear from current and former/recent grad students in particular, as well as from grad program faculty. 

The Philosopher's Nest (grad school!) podcast

Kyle van Oosterum and Lewis Williams (both DPhil students at Oxford) have really interesting new podcast, The Philosopher's Nest, which interviews philosophy grad students and is 'dedicated to showcasing the work, insights, and experiences of graduate students in philosophy.' 

The first batch of episodes 'include discussions on the graduate admissions process, the conflicting advice given to graduate students about publishing, and the challenges faced by women in philosophy', and I really look forward to checking them out!

Williams and van Oosterum are also 'very much interested in hearing from graduate students who might like to feature on an episode!' and note that 'Interested students can contact us at thephilosophersnest@gmail.com.'

• Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/3bJAFKB48sjl0iECJokN6Y
• Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/the-philosophers-nest/id1614219208 
• Website: http://www.philosophersnest.com/

7 Years Later: An Introduction

By Trevor Hedberg

I spent a lot of time in graduate school digging up information about what I should expect during graduate school and what I should do to be competitive for academic employment when I finished my dissertation. Back then, information about these topics existed, but it was scattered across a random assemblage of online resources, and the the authors of these blog posts and short guides sometimes disagreed about the best methods for writing papers, finding a suitable work/life balance, teaching effectively, and so on. Things have definitely improved since that time. There are more avenues for graduate students to learn this information, and discussions of these topics have progressed enough that some points of consensus have emerged on these matters. But even now, the main thing I was looking for back in 2010 and 2011 has not been produced.

What I wanted as a graduate student was a single document that answered the many questions I had about graduate and professional life. How do I write a course syllabus? What is the proper conduct at academic conferences? How do I complete a revise-and-resubmit so that the paper gets published? How do I prepare for my first job search? You get the idea. And I did find answers to these questions eventually, but I wanted those answers all in one place and presented in a unified and cohesive voice. Ideally, this document would have also provided some additional resources related to the topics under discussion. The best I could find was typically a short guide that covered a small fraction of the relevant aspects of graduate school or focused on just one in particular (such as how to write publishable papers).

After a while, I decided it might be worth trying to write the guide that I had been unable to find as a graduate student. After working on it intermittently for many years, I am finally getting close to its completion. My plan is to release 7 Years Later: Surviving Graduate School in Philosophy sometime during the upcoming summer. The main title alludes to both the fact that 7 years is about the average length of time it takes a typical graduate student in the humanities to earn a PhD and the fact that my own time in graduate school (obtaining both an MA and PhD) took about 7 years. The broad framework for 7 Years has been outlined on my website for the last several months. Frankly, it has ballooned to a much larger size than I had originally envisioned: it may be about 60,000 words when it is complete.

Leading up to the guide’s full release, I’ll be publishing snippets of the guide here on the Philosophers’ Cocoon. Some of the guide’s content is based on blog posts I’ve written here in the past few years, but the content I will share in these snippets will be new. My hope is that I will get feedback on some of this content that I can then incorporate into the released version. I’m not sure yet how many of these snippets I will end up publishing here, but I’ll be starting with a few related to teaching as a graduate student. The first one of those will go up next week.

Grad program choices: 4 or 5 year program?

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

I would love to hear any thoughts on 4-year versus 5-year PhD programs (for example at U Toronto). If I have a choice between them and equal annual funding for each, is it crazy not to take the five-year option with an extra year to prepare for the job market? Or is it crazy to not take the opportunity to do the PhD in two years, given that I have an MPhil as it is?

Excellent questions. Of course, a lot depends here on the actual programs here (which is a better fit for the OP's interests, which has a better climate for grad student, better mentoring, a better placement record, etc.). I'd advise focusing on those things first and foremost. But bearing all that mind, if all other things are equal, I'd absolutely go for the 5 year program, and not just because of the extra time to prepare for the market. Just as relevant here, I think, is how things can 'go sideways' at the dissertation stage. Dissertations often don't go remotely according to plan, and can take years longer than one expects--in which case a year of extra funding can be really critical for even finishing the program (without going into a ton of debt).

Finally, this probably goes without saying, but I'd advise the OP to take care to double-check on just how much their MPhil will count in the PhD program. My understanding is that at many PhD programs, students with MA's aren't excused from much (if any) coursework--so, if you have to take courses and write a dissertation, 4 years of funding is really not a lot of time at all: I took 6 years to finish at Arizona after I had the equivalent of an MA, and this wasn't uncommon at all for PhD students back in my time (though it's been a while now, and I know a lot has changed, including the length and nature of dissertations).

But these are just my thoughts. What are yours?

Candidates writing their own recommendations?

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

Though I take it to be frowned upon, I get the sense from graduate students that it's very common for some senior faculty members to ask students to write their own letters of recommendation, and then edit them. I'm curious if admission committees ever feel like it is obvious that an applicant has written their own letter. Is it unethical to do so? Or are letters so 'inflated' anyways that this isn't a major concern for applicants or committees?

These are excellent questions. I too have heard of this practice, and frankly find it a bit astonishing that it apparently occurs. It sort of seems to defeat the purpose of an outside letter of recommendation to have a candidate write it themselves, no? So, I'm curious too: how common is this practice? What do readers think of it? And, do committees ever suspect that a candidate wrote their own letter? 

Departmental controversies and grad student prospects

In our January "how can we help you?" post, a reader asks whether a public controversy or grievances about a department "could impact the department's graduate students in terms of potentially harming prospects for employment in the future or getting accepted to a workshop or conference?" 

The Cocoon isn't a gossip site, and is supposed to be a safe and supportive forum for all, so I want to be very careful here (and ask readers to be respectful of this). But, given that there have been a number of serious public controversies associated with various philosophy departments over the years, I think it could be good to answer this reader's question, if only to put them and other grad students in a similar position at ease--as grad students are (obviously) in a vulnerable professional position.

In brief, here's my answer: I'm pretty confident that no one one is likely to hold stuff like this against grad students. We all recognize that grad students are normally likely to be innocent bystanders in departmental controversies, and that it would be wrong to hold situations against them over which they have little if any control. My confidence here is bolstered by the fact that I've seen many grad students come out of departments where there were very serious controversies (and indeed, scandals) end up getting jobs, invited to all kinds of things, and so on. 

So, I'd encourage this reader and other grad students in similar situations not to worry about their career prospects, at least not any more than any other grad student or job candidate. But these are just my thoughts. What are yours?

Mental health (e.g. PTSD) diagnoses and grad school

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

I am ABD. I have recently been diagnosed with PTSD. This wasn’t exactly a shocking diagnosis for me to receive, but something about the isolation during COVID and recently getting my own apartment allowed this issue to bubble to the surface. I feel stuck. I am tempted to go on leave to try and focus on recovery, but I’m worried I won’t come back to my PhD program if I do, and I really really want to finish my dissertation. It’s hard to focus. I am all over the place, emotionally speaking. And I am coming to terms with the fact that I have been using school to smother my trauma— I’ve almost taken that strategy as far as you can take it! Tips? Suggestions? Help? Anyone else managed PTSD while they are working on a dissertation?

These are excellent and important questions, as are questions about managing mental health diagnoses in grad school (and academia) more generally. Studies have found "strikingly high" rates of mental health issues among graduate students and faculty. Do any of you have any tips, particularly for the OP?

Should grad students work on trendy topics?

There's an interesting ongoing discussion at Daily Nous on which topics of research are trending for graduate students and recent PhDs. Having served on six search committees now, I'm really curious to hear from other search committee members: do you think it is advantageous, disadvantageous, or neither on the job market for grad students to work on trendy topics? Why? 

Here's my hot-take: I expect it is probably advantageous for getting an R1 job, but potentially disadvantageous for getting a job at a teaching institution. Here's why: R1s seem likely to want to hire the 'next big thing', and one obvious path to this is to hire someone who does really good work on a hot topic in the profession. However, trendy topics tend to be pretty narrow, and it's easier to stand out in a pile--as a researcher and teacher (for teaching jobs)--if you do something different than most candidates. This, again, is just a hot-take hypothesis. But I wonder if there is something to it. 

One quick note: I'd like to keep this discussion to search committee members. Here's why: job-candidates reporting their experiences may result in a misleading picture of things due to base-rate issues. If (e.g.) 90% of job-candidates work on trendy topics, then as a merely statistical matter, candidates who work on trendy topics will tend to get a lot of jobs. So, if we hear from candidates, we run the risk of committing the base-rate fallacy. We don't entirely obviate this by hearing from search committee members, but at least in their case we might get a picture of which types of candidates they prefer and do well in their hiring processes, all things being equal.

UK research council funding?

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

I have a couple of questions about UK research council funding. Firstly, I hear it is highly competitive, but can't seem to gauge how competitive, at least in comparison to US R1 Grad school admissions. Do people know the sort of success rate for applicants? Also, it seems that you compete against people from other subjects, so how well do philosophers do on average?

Secondly, how valuable is it when applying for jobs? For instance, would it be better to go to Oxbridge or a highly ranked UK institution without funding or a lower PGR ranked or unranked UK institution with UKRI/AHRC funding? And is the perception of it different in the UK/Europe to the US?

These are all excellent questions, and I have no idea what the answers are. Do any of you have any helpful insights?

Funded MA at Texas Tech

From Texas Tech:

To all undergraduates interested in pursuing graduate study in philosophy:

The Texas Tech Philosophy Department is now accepting applications for its Master of Arts Program in philosophy.

Our M.A. students are regularly admitted to some of the best PhD programs in philosophy including most recently NYU, Rutgers, Pittsburgh, and UCLA. Recent placement can seen on our website here: https://www.depts.ttu.edu/philosophy/degrees/placement.php

We are able to offer students generous funding packages. Teaching Assistantships are provided to almost all of our graduate students which include tuition and fee waivers that cover more than 80% of tuition and fees as well as a stipend of an additional $14,000 a year. Additional fellowships of up to $5,000 may also be available as well. 

For financial aid purposes, US students should fill out a FAFSA form as early as possible. For full consideration, all other applications materials should be received by Feb 15th, though applications are still accepted and considered on a rolling basis after this. Further information about our program can be found on our website here: https://www.depts.ttu.edu/philosophy/degrees/gradprogram.php as well as on the attached poster.

Please contact Dr. Amy Flowerree, Director of Graduate Admissions, at Amy.Flowerree@ttu.edu with any questions. 

Undergrad submissions to grad conferences?

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

Hello! I am helping organize a graduate student conference and we've received a submission from an undergraduate. I can't think of a reason to exclude them from the review process (other than the fact that we are branded as a venue for grad student work), but I'd love to hear if other people have thoughts about the benefits of a grad-student-only conference environment. Is it needlessly elitist of us not to consider their work?

Interesting question. On the one hand, as the OP notes, the conference is branded as a forum for grad students to present their work, and I guess admitting an undergraduate might mean one less opportunity for a grad student to present their work--which seems relevant. On the other hand, undergrads can use forums to present their work as well, and some undergrads may very much benefit from presenting at a grad conference. So, I don't know. What do you all think?

Did you receive adequate mentoring?

Laurence B. McCullough (Distinguished Emeritus Professor, Baylor) writes in:

As a retired professor, I follow your blog to keep up with what is happening in the world of philosophy.  I spent my career as a medical educator.  In the Baylor Center we (Baruch Brody and I, then the only two senior faculty) had a program for mentoring for all junior faculty.  We met with our colleagues regularly both formally and informally, read their work, advised them on academic matters, etc. 

We called what we did mentoring for success.  For example, Baruch and I mentored a junior colleague who followed Baruch as Director of our Center and therefore as my boss before I retired.  This is common, and a point of considerable pride, in the world of medical education. 

I am struck as I follow the postings on your blog by the absence of mention or mentorship.  I benefitted from mentoring when I was junior faculty, especially from a philosophy colleague at Texas A&M (where I was on medical and philosophy faculties and my first position).  I get the sense that many of our colleagues whose comments you post have no mentoring.  Perhaps mentoring – the absence of it, when it helps, when it does not help – would make a good topic for your blog.

This is an excellent query, and I'm thinking of running a short series on the topic. But, before I move forward with that, I'd like to ask the Cocoon's readers a few questions:

1. If you are a current or recent graduate student, what kind of mentoring are you receiving (viz. research, teaching, professionalization, the job market, etc.) have you received or are you receiving? Do you think the mentoring you've received is appropriate/adequate? Why/why not?
2. If you are or recently were a junior faculty member (e.g. a postdoc, TT faculty, non-TT faculty, etc.), what kind of mentoring have you received or are you receiving? Do you consider it appropriate/adequate? Why/why not?

How many applicants are PhD programs receiving?

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

I wish you all a happy new year. I would like to ask if the readers who serve on the admission committees at their schools (or are otherwise acquainted with the situation) know or have any guess how applications to PhD programs they have received or expect to receive this year, especially compared to the last year (when the applicant pool was so big) and earlier years (2020, 2019..).

This is an excellent query. I have heard anecdotally that some programs are way down in terms of the number of applications they've received this year, while other programs are either similar to or up from recent years. I've also heard, again anecdotally, that this might have something to do with whether programs require the GRE--which, for obvious reasons, might push applicants to apply instead to programs than no longer require them. 

Any readers (e.g. on PhD admissions committees) willing to share how large their applicant pools are this year compared to recent years? This might not only provide some idea of big-picture trends (in philosophy PhD applications in general), but also perhaps help us to understand the causes of them. It might also be good to hear from applicants too! Did you apply to fewer PhD programs this year for some reason? If so, why?

Disinviting someone from your dissertation committee?

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

I have a question about disinviting someone from my dissertation committee. Is it 1) possible, 2) acceptable, 3) a bad idea (for strategic/interpersonal/departmental reasons, etc.), or 4) a good idea (given the below)?

The problem I am having is that said committee member does not engage with me AT ALL. This person won't answer emails, including requests for meetings, or give ANY feedback, etc. and is on my committee b/c given their area and my area, it made sense. But it seems they will not be in a position to recommend me when all is said and done, which is pretty terrifying. And despite my best (and many!) efforts, I feel I have no relationship with them not even a bad one, really, since so unresponsive. So I would like to disinvite them (I don't have a replacement yet), but I assume this is extremely controversial. Thus, seeking advice.

This is an excellent question, and I am sure some other grad students have (or have had) experience with similar situations. Mike Titelbaum (Wisconsin) submitted the following response:

That's a really tricky problem you have, and I'm sorry you're stuck with it. Besides the concerns you mentioned with "disinviting" one member, there's the additional problem that if that person is very well-known in your field, when you apply for jobs folks might wonder why that person wasn't involved in your dissertation, and might informally ask them what they think of your work.

Maybe one way to move towards a solution is to recognize that there are two groups of people here: Those that are officially listed as being on your committee, and those who help you write the dissertation. Those two groups don't always have to be the same. Many grad students have three people on their committee, but work closely with only one or two and hardly ever interact with the others. Heck, I've sometimes worked closely with someone on their dissertation without ever being on their official committee. So the fact that this person won't help you doesn't mean you necessarily need to get them off your committee.

If I were you I'd try to gain more information about this person, based on experiences of their colleagues and your fellow grad students: Is this ghosting behavior typical for this person, or is it an indication that they dislike your work? Even if they're unresponsive now, when dissertation defense time comes around will they read the thing and show up where they need to be? It's possible that even if they're behaving badly now, they will come through at the end and then (if they like the dissertation you produce) write you a perfectly good letter. If you do get information that leads you to remove them from your committee, I'd recommend identifying a replacement first. It's a lot easier to say to a cantankerous faculty member that you'd like to sub them out for someone else with whom you've struck up a good relationship, than to simply tell them you don't want them involved with you any more. And until you get a substitute, it doesn't sound like having the bad member on your committee for the time being is doing you any active harm. Good luck!

This strikes me as wise advice. You don't necessarily need to work closely with all of your dissertation committee members. What you do need is to write a passable dissertation and get good letters of recommendation from faculty whose letters are likely to help you on the job market. So, along with Mike, I think the contextual details matter a lot here. Is this just how that committee member is? Might they still write you a good recommendation letter at the end of the day? Would it look bad on the market if you didn't get a letter from them? Can you write a good dissertation working primarily with your other two committee members? These, I think, are probably the questions the OP really needs to answer in order to make the best decision.

One additional note: what the OP describes could even be a proverbial blessing in disguise. Dissertation committee members can sometimes disagree substantially on the direction a dissertation should take--which can give rise to difficult binds where you have to choose between which committee member's advice you follow. I've heard that in some cases, situations like this can lead to a divide within the committee itself, angering the committee member whose guidance isn't followed. So, in principle, it could actually be good to have "fewer voices involved" in working on the dissertation, particularly if the OP's other two committee members are responsive and helpful. So, long story short, I think the answers to the OP's questions are probably: (1)  Yes, it's possible; (2) Sure, it can be acceptable; (3) and (4) whether it's a bad idea or a good idea depends on the details.

But these are just my thoughts (and Mike's). What are yours? It would be great to hear not only from grad students who have faced this kind of situation, including how their decision worked out in the end, but also from grad faculty (including dissertation committee members). What do you all think?

Learning how not to rely on one's PhD advisor

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

I don't think I'm alone in this, and I'm looking for advice from those who've gone through it or something like it.

I have an excellent relationship with my advisor. With his guidance, my mediocre ideas become significantly less mediocre, and even, on occasion, quite interesting. I've worked with other professors and, to be honest, we're on the same wavelength in ways that I haven't experienced with others.

While I'm incredibly grateful to be working with them, I'm also a bit anxious about what's to come. At some point, I'll move on, ideally to a job, and it will be less and less appropriate for me to lean on my advisor to lift up my work and make it more intelligible. What can I do to prepare for this? Should I just hold on as long as possible? Will I get more confident in my own work as I become more independent?

These are very good questions. Timmy J. submitted the following response:

My own adviser told me that most of the point of grad school is to get voices in your head. You get your adviser’s voice is your head. You get some of your cohortmate’s voices in your head. Maybe you get frege or Kant or whoever’s voice in your head. Then you leave but the voices stay and some large portion of the help they could give before they can still give later, albeit in a disembodied way. Yeah yeah it’s weird and mystical and whatever. But it sorta helps me deal, and maybe it’ll help you too.

This seems right to me (I still bear in mind many lessons that I learned from my advisor). However, I don't think they are the only way to handle the OP's situation--and I also think it can be critical to develop one's own voice, as it were, becoming one's 'own philosopher' (there are, for example, some preconceptions about research that I was taught in graduate school that I now firmly reject). In any case, what other strategies are there? One strategy that I have seen is for people to slowly wean themselves off of their advisor, staying in close contact with them for their first few years out of graduate school, meeting with them via Zoom, sharing work, etc. My sense is that this can work if one's advisor is a caring and conscientious person, particularly given that advisors can want their former students to succeed. Not all advisors are like this, however--and so, one might very well find oneself 'ripped away' from being able to rely on them. In that case, my sense is that one's situation can be very much akin to being thrown into the deep end of a pool and simply having to learn how to swim. 

Long story short, I don't think there's just one way to answer the OP's questions. I think a lot depends on you (are you 'naturally independent' or someone who really needs support networks?), on your advisor (are they willing to stay in close contact and be helpful once you graduate?), and on context (is your first job out of graduate school in a large research department or small department with high teaching loads?). Because things can differ so much, I'm very curious to hear from readers. How did you handle the kinds of issues the OP asks about? Did your strategy work well or not?

Finally, I do want to say a few things about the OP's third and final question: "will I get more confident in my own work as I become more independent?". My sense is that you probably will. My own advisor once told me in graduate school that at some point, one undergoes a transformation of sorts. You begin to realize that, whereas for your entire academic career as a student, you had to satisfy your professors with your work, now the main person you need to satisfy is yourself. Sure, you need to convince referees to publish your work. But, at some point, you'll get a sense of how to do that while being the kind of philosopher you want to be. And, in my experience, it can be a really wonderful experience, generating not only a kind of confidence in your work, but indeed, a kind of confidence that doesn't depend so much on others for validation (which, I think, can be a really liberating experience). But again, this is just my experience. What's yours?

Discussing grad school with undergrads

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

I have been advising an undergraduate senior thesis for several months now, for a student who expressed early on that they were interested in applying to a philosophy PhD. I'm becoming increasingly certain that they don't yet have the skills or preparation to be accepted into a program this year (ideas can sometimes be good but writing quality not so much, etc.), especially the mostly top-10 programs they seem set on applying to. I'm early-career at a PGR-ranked but not top department, certainly not "famous" enough for my letter to have much clout, which makes me even more pessimistic about the student's chances. I've talked with the student multiple times about how competitive (and random) the PhD process is, to consider some MA programs seriously (which I think would be a really good step for them before a PhD anyway), and have a backup plan if things don't work out this year. But I'm wondering whether I'm still not being straightforward enough and should give a little more tough love. On the other hand, I've never sat on a grad admissions committee, and maybe my pessimism is misplaced and harmful. Should my role be to build up the student's confidence, based on their stated application goals? Or would it be better to let them know very clearly that I think they have a minuscule change of getting in?

These are really good and (I think) difficult questions. On this case, I guess I feel torn between the following two responses: (1) honestly telling the student you don't feel they are quite ready for a PhD program and encouraging them to pursue an MA to better prepare themselves, or (2) support them in applying to PhD programs but strongly encourage them to apply to MA programs, explaining to them that many (most?) students who pursue PhDs these days go to good MA programs first. I myself tend to "err on the side of tact", as my experience is that frank honesty sometimes can do more harm than good. But, that being said, I also understand the argument that we should be honest with students. So, I guess I'm inclined to say that either of these approaches may be legitimate, and honestly, if the student really isn't quite ready to get into a good PhD program, then my sense is that this will probably be reflected in their application results (i.e. them perhaps getting into a good MA program but not to any attractive PhD programs). So again, maybe the thing to do is to just encourage them to apply to both, and then give them good advice once they hear back on the places they get into. 

But these are just my thoughts. What are yours?

To OnlyFans or Not to OnlyFans?

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

I am an early graduate student with two perhaps controversial questions, one more empirical and one normative. The first is: would it hurt (or even destroy) one’s chances on the job market if they were to pursue a part-time career in sex work while in grad school (specifically, starting an OnlyFans)? The second is: if yes, are such norms justified?

When I think of older academics on a search committee (lets broadly say “baby boomers,” particularly those with anti-porn sentiments), my intuitions tell me if someone were to find out it would likely be disqualifying. When I think of people like Amia Srinivasan and many younger philosophers, I feel like it might not be a big issue at all (but I’m really far from sure).

Finally, part of me is wondering whether I should even make decisions based on how they might affect my chances on the job market. If my chances of succeeding are already so low, part of me feels like I ought to just do what I want to do and hope for the best. Another part of me desperately wants to play the game perfectly and avoid any possible misstep, even though so many people who do this still get screwed over (I am at a top 20 university with decent placement, so getting a TT job is not completely off the table, just unlikely). In 4-5 years when I am on the job market, will I have regretted playing this game (or not)?

This a fascinating query, and I am curious to hear readers' answers to all three of the OP's questions:

1. Would it hurt (or even destroy) one’s chances on the job market?
2. If yes, are such norms justified?
3. In 4-5 years when I am on the job market, will [the OP] have regretted playing this game (or not)?

In answering/discussing them, I ask readers to focus on the professional issues involved: that is, on whether sex work (such as an OnlyFans page) would in fact hurt (or "even destroy") the OP's chances on the job-market, what the professional norms are here, and whether those norms are justified. In line with this blog's safe and supportive mission, I am going to require readers to refrain from 'sex-shaming', and I will not approve comments of that sort. For again, the OP is asking for professional advice, not commentary on their preferences, values, etc. Bearing this in mind, allow me to briefly share some thoughts, and then open things up for discussion.

Grappling with impostor syndrome?

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

I'm around midway through my PhD, and have been struggling more than I normally do with imposter syndrome. It's put a real damper on my ability to work. What's the point if I'm not going to do work that others would want to read? And why should I risk revealing how little I know?

I've also been pretty convinced by the cognitive scientist Barbara Sarnecka's analysis of imposter syndrome - found in her book, the Writing Workshop - not as the result of something going wrong on the side of the individual, but as the result of something going wrong in the environment. Those struggling with imposter syndrome aren't usually making bad inferences about their own abilities from good data, but good inferences from bad data. We overestimate the success of others, and so underestimate our own, because we're only ever told the success stories.

I'm wondering if anyone has advice on combatting this kind of bad data. I'm especially interested in what I, as a graduate student, can do about it.

I'm sorry to hear that this reader is struggling, but I'm glad they asked this question, as it's an important issue that I expect a lot of grad students and early career philosophers struggle with. We've talked about impostor syndrome a few times before on the blog, and in fact there were many times early in my career when I struggled with impostor syndrome myself--so I know how hard it can be. So, let me offer a few brief comments that I hope the OP may find helpful before opening things up for comments.

How strongly do philosophy grad students want an academic career?

On Twitter, our own Helen De Cruz writes:

In how far do philosophy grad students overwhelmingly want an academic career? Is this their absolute top preference, or is it bc they can't imagine doing anything else, or do they think they should want an academic job so as not to disappoint their advisors?

These are really good (and important) questions. What proportion of grad students are so single-mindedly focused on an academic career? How many grad students are unsure what they want, or whose minds change over time? In our recent thread on grad program support for non-academic careers, there was some debate about the last of these questions. Derek Bowman wrote:

If students have realized they want to pursue another career, why would they pursue it through a philosophy PhD program, instead of pursuing that career more directly?

However, Chris Stephens responded:

It sounds like your experience is different from mine. In my experience, many PhD students discover along the way that they don't want to pursue an academic career. That's why the surprise.

I'm really curious to hear from all of the philosophy grad students and recent PhDs out there (or even people who got their grad degrees a while ago). How strongly do you/did you desire an academic career? Did your mind (or strength of preferences) change over time? If so, when? Early in grad school? Later on? Why?

Which grad programs have good alt-ac support?

On Twitter, our own Helen De Cruz (St. Louis University) writes:

How do different grad schools compare in their placement of people into alt-ac careers? I suspect (but have no data) that if you actively help people (e.g., with making resume and mock interview) you'll place more successfully in alt-ac jobs but we have no data.

Good question. Does anyone know? My memory is a bit hazy here, but I seem to recall hearing that at least a few grad programs in philosophy do have decent support systems for pursuing alt-ac (or non-academic) careers. If anyone has any insights, I'd love to hear them in the comments section!

Grad program support for alt-ac careers?

On Twitter, our own Helen De Cruz asks:

[When it comes to applicants deciding between grad programs,] how important should support for alt-ac careers be? Given that even the best placing schools will have grad students who will never be able to have a career as an academic, does this mean that all grad programs should at least do something toward alt-ac training/placement?

These are excellent questions. There has been some debate lately about whether grad programs should take greater steps to aid students in Alt-Ac placement. Some (such as myself) think that the answer is: obviously yes. Insofar as only something like 50% of philosophy PhD students ever finish their degrees, and of those who do only something like 32 to 35% get permanent academic posts within 5 years of graduation, this means that a high proportion of philosophy graduate students could really use support in finding non-academic work. On the other hand, there are those who think this isn't really the job of faculty in philosophy PhD programs, as these programs are said to exist primarily to train students for academic jobs. From my perspective, this latter line of argument amounts to a bare appeal to tradition. Yes, philosophy programs have existed primarily to prepare students for academic jobs--but I think there is no good reason for things to stay this way. Let me explain.

Getting letters to leave a philosophy grad program for a pre-professional degree?

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

I have a question about transitioning from academia to a professional degree program, and would really appreciate your input.

I recently started at a lower-ranked philosophy PhD program and I've realized pretty quickly that although I enjoy the academic aspect of it, I would have little to no prospects of academic employment if I keep going down this route. So, I am thinking of leaving my program with an MA and applying to professional degree programs instead (I'm primarily considering master's programs in public policy, business, and law at this point).

Now, I am in a bit of a predicament: most professional grad school applications would require me to submit letters of recommendation from current professors/supervisors. I am worried that if I ask my current professors/supervisor for a recommendation, they may look down upon my choice of leaving academia and even think of me as a sellout (especially for something like business or law school). I'm also concerned that this attitude may further reflect in their recommendation and really hinder my chances of getting into a good program. In this case, how should I approach the process of getting a recommendation?

This is a good question, and I'm not exactly sure what to recommend. Given that the OP says the recently started their PhD program, I wonder whether it would be best for them to approach their previous letter-writers (that is, the ones who wrote them letters when applying to PhD programs). Then again, I suppose the OP's concerns might extend to those references too. So, I'm really not sure what to recommend. What do you all think? 

(Better addressing) why grad students drop out?

On Twitter, our own Helen De Cruz (St. Louis University) asks:

What are the main factors that cause grad students to drop out of programs, and how can these be mitigated? How can programs better support e.g., mental health, wellbeing and other outcomes?

These are both excellent and important questions. My sense is that many grad programs could probably do a lot more to better support struggling grad students, but that these issues are often just not talked about openly. In my experience, a lot of graduate students end up suffering in relative silence, not knowing what to do or who to turn to--and, perhaps in part because they are afraid to speak out, grad programs may not know what they could be doing to help.

Finally, of course, there may in some cases be simply a lack of will. Some grad faculty might not think it is their responsibility to help grad students through personal crises that affect their academic performance and ability to finish the program. Although I strongly disagree with this, it is worth thinking about what might be done to incentivize a more proactive and helpful approach in grad programs--such as, perhaps, the APA (or AAUP?) developing some kind of 'best practices' document or instituting some of kind requirement for programs to be transparent about their dropout rates in order to remain in good standing with the organization (which, insofar as it could reflect poorly on the program, particularly to prospective students, might incentivize programs to do better).

Anyway, I'm not sure--but I think these are very important questions, given how much is at stake in the lives of grad students. So, then, how would you answer Helen's questions? What are the main factors that lead grad students to drop out, and what should programs do better?

What do (and should) grad applicants prioritize?

On Twitter, our own Helen De Cruz (St. Louis University) asks several interesting questions, beginning with the following:

What considerations do philosophy grad students have where to apply/which offer to accept? How important are (relatively speaking) the following factors...Stipend/package, training (e.g., teacher training) placement rate, relative prestige of the dept, professors they really want to work with, specialization, geography (is it a city they'd want to live in), "climate" (welcoming to e.g., women, minorities), research culture.

I think it might be good to hear from readers on two things:

1. Which considerations they did prioritize (or are currently prioritizing) in deciding which programs to apply to and accept admissions offers from.
2. Which considerations people think grad applicants should prioritize, and why.

After all, I expect that some people might have chosen programs for particular reasons, but then in retrospect with they had prioritized other factors instead. What do you all think?

Grad school writing sample tips?

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

I'm a prospective graduate student preparing for the application cycle this fall. I'm hoping to pursue analytic philosophy, but the courses offered at my undergraduate institution were mostly in ancient, medieval, and continental philosophy. My quandary is in choosing a writing sample from the papers I wrote for these courses. In the paper I think might be my strongest, I analyze and interpret a continental thinker through tools drawn from an analytic thinker. My own writing style is very analytic, but I'm concerned that submitting a writing sample on a continental thinker might be a turn off to the analytically-minded programs I'm applying to. Is this a valid concern?

This is a good question, but unfortunately, having not served on grad admissions committees, I'm not very well-placed to know the answer! What do you all think, particularly those of you who have served on grad program admissions committees? Also, given that the OP and other similar readers may benefit from other tips about grad program writing samples, please do share any other insights you might have about writing samples that you think prospective students should know!

Taking grad courses outside one's AOS?

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

Second year phd student here: is there any compelling reason for me to take grad courses in areas of philosophy I don't enjoy/am not knowledgeable about/will not specialize in? I finished my program's distribution requirements and am so excited to never have to care about anything at all in (let's say, for example) LEMM again, but I can't help wondering if there's some downside to staying in my comfort zone for the rest of my program (even if my comfort zone is what I enjoy and will specialize in). Assume for the sake of the question that I won't discover a genuine passion for metaphysics somewhere down the line.

This is an excellent question, and I am curious to hear what readers think. Personally, I think it may be advisable to take as many courses like these as one reasonably can. Let me explain why.

Readers for grad school writing samples?

A reader writes in:

I'm currently putting together materials for a run at Ph.D programs. I've heard from countless sources that the writing sample is the most important part of the application. I plan to have my advisor...look over the writing sample, as it originated out of an assignment for her class. But I also think the more eyes my paper sees and the more critical feedback it receives, the better it will be. It can be terribly difficult to zoom out from one's own work to see what needs improvement.

1). is it appropriate to solicit "external reviewers," for lack of a better term--in other words, faculty at other programs that specialize in the topic at hand, and ask them to read through a draft?

2). If this has been done with any success, how did you go about establishing a working relationship with those people in order to make a request like that?

3). If any of you readers of the blog are willing to network and chat about my writing sample [on Nietzsche and his pregnancy metaphors], I'd welcome that connection.

At present, I only have my aforementioned advisor working in the subject area. All other mentors and colleagues that have volunteered to read through my writing sample work in completely different areas than the topic of the paper.

These are excellent questions, and I don't think we've ever discussed them on the Cocoon before.

How do you know when a paper is ready?

On Twitter, Alexandra Gustafson (PhD candidate, Toronto) asks:

How do you know when a paper is ready to be submitted to journals? Is it ever ready, or do you just have to “go for it” at some point?

These are excellent questions, and honestly ones that I've struggled with throughout my career, including post-tenure. What do you all think? How do you know when a paper is ready? And how do you think an early-career scholar such as Alexandra should go about things here?

Tips for UK grad students?

In our new thread soliciting questions from new and returning graduate students, Lauren Tate writes:

I’m about to start a PhD in philosophy in the UK in October and wanted to know what exactly this entails other than writing my thesis. I’ve tried seeking answers to my question on other forums but most people who have replied have been in the sciences so often talk about lab work which I definitely won’t be getting involved. I know philosophy is really just a lot of thinking and writing (and rewriting...and more rewriting), but when I explain that to outsiders of philosophy it seems strange to say that I will spend 3 years (and a lot of money) to *just* write 80,000 words.

This is an excellent question, and as someone who has virtually no experience with the UK system, I'm really interested in hearing readers chime in! An Australian Graduate Student submitted the following reply:

I've just finished an MA in Australia, where degrees have a similar structure as the UK. I had no coursework and teaching was entirely voluntary, so the thesis is all that's required to graduate. But that wouldn't set you up well after graduation if you want a job in academic philosophy. You'd want to juggle your thesis with a bit of teaching and most importantly publishing scholarly work. That is how I approached my MA and what I would do in your position.

This sounds right to me, as far as becoming competitive for the academic job-market is concerned. But I wonder: how exactly does one get good teaching experience in the UK? (I've heard from a few friends that it can be difficult). Also, what are some good tips for learning how to publish as a graduate student in the UK? Given that there is no PhD course-work, I imagine it may be difficult to come up with publishable ideas outside of the dissertation. Are there good reading and working-paper groups to join--that sort of thing? If you're someone with experience in the UK graduate school system, do feel free to share any tips that Lauren might find helpful! 

Grad school question: getting scooped?

In our new thread soliciting questions from new and returning grad students, a reader writes:

I've written a paper for a conference that's due in the next few days. But then someone posts a forthcoming paper to PhilPapers on the exact same topic making the exact same points as my paper. And it is far better than my paper. What do I do? Not enough time to change my paper substantially. Do I submit my paper anyway? Or just scrap it? I'm a PhD student and have not attended a conference before.

This is an excellent question, and a bunch of other readers submitted replies. NH writes:

Having had and overcome the experience of being "scooped" several times, I think that if you appreciate the finer details of both your account and theirs, you'll find differences that are productive to discuss. Being first to a point is important but you can still make a major contribution. Just don't let the feeling that you've been scooped be a mental block that prevents you from working further on the topic.

Prof has similar advice:

Make sure it really is the same. Subtle differences matter. If not, try to tweak it to make it more clear (at least to yourself) how it is different (keeping in mind you can almost always make some changes before presenting). If you really aren't adding anything new, scrap it. This happens.

S-U adds:

If your paper presents a different argument, then send it in to the conference (adding a note in the paper that a different argument has been put forward by someone else). IF it is the same argument, then, move on.

Tammo writes:

I'm aware of one recent case where one author (call them A) made an interesting technical point, and not much later another author -- B -- published a paper that made the same point. B's paper had a footnote saying something like "After finishing work on this paper, it was brought to my attention that A makes the same point in a recent paper." B's paper explored a few ramifications of that point that A's paper didn't, but the "heart" of the paper was the same. I don't think that B's behavior there was unethical, but I did hear a few negative comments about B's paper. (There wasn't any insinuation of plagiarism, but B was rendered as being a bit to keen to publish in some of those comments.) So I guess pursuing publication of that exact point is probably not a good idea -- although I'm less certain about whether to present at the conference or not. That said, I would probably consider (a) thinking about whether you still have some interesting and new thoughts about what to make of that point and (b) getting in touch with the author of the forthcoming paper and have a discussion, given that you have overlapping interests and positions. One other thought: the fact that the forthcoming paper seems "better" than your paper probably has a lot to do with the fact that it's at the end of a process of presenting at a conference and getting feedback, submitting to a journal, and (most likely) being revised after peer review. When you submit to a conference, it is normal that your paper would be in a much more "raw" state -- so I wouldn't take the apparent differences in quality at heart.

And Michel writes: 

Just send it in and see what happens. (This other paper won't be held against you, especially since it's just forthcoming; nobody has read it yet!) To publish it you'll want to acknowledge this new paper and try to make a distinct contribution. But for the conference, don't sweat it.

Thanks to everyone above for their tips and advice! I'm curious to hear what other readers think, but here are a few quick thoughts of my own.

Applying to philosophy PhD programs w/multiple grad degrees?

In our latest "how can we help you?" thread, Claire writes:

I'm another unusual applicant to PhD programs, and I'm hoping for some advice on how to proceed. I have a PhD in History from Cambridge, with several prestigious scholarships. I also have one BA in Sociology (UCSC), another in History (UCR), a masters in medieval history (Cambridge), and another masters in urban and regional planning (Virginia). I also worked for a while in digital humanities and in cancer research (medical abstracting). I gave up on academia because History just didn't make me passionate enough, and I felt I would get backed into a temporal corner. I'm a broader thinker and needed something that makes my sense of wonder come alive. I now know that philosophy is what does that. I might seem like a perennial student, but the truth is, I've always sought out philosophical issues in each degree, and am currently writing a book that touches on philosophical topics in many ways. Writing this book is actually what got me looking into academic philosophy in the first place.

I want to dive into a PhD in philosophy now, and pursue research (and teaching, if I'm lucky) in the field. But how do I proceed with getting enough official philosophy background and letters of recommendation to be admitted? I have never taken a class in philosophy (but a lot of social theory, and a lot of independent reading). I have maxed out all student loan possibilities, so can't do a third BA or MA. What are my chances of being admitted straight to philosophy programs with my existing profile? Since I gave up on academia after my last PhD, I also haven't been in touch with anyone who might be a letter writer. I'm not sure what they'd think of me asking for one at this point. Any advice? Much appreciated.

Good questions! Amanda submitted the following response:

I think you'd be okay if it were just a history Ph.D., but all the other graduate degrees on top of that will probably work against you. People have a tendency toward "judgeness" in these situations (in my experience) and might see you, as you say, as a "professional student."

I would also be cautious about saying things about finding your passion in philosophy. As sad as it is, the field is full of philosophers who felt that way initially and now look back on that old self with a jaded eye roll. No, not everyone, but many are cynical and bitter, having learned that the profession is not what they hoped.

I'd argue that the best way to increase your odds of achieving your goals is to take a handful of philosophy courses (4-6) in the "core" areas, i.e., epistemology, metaphysics, history, ethics. These should be either upper-division undergrad courses or grad courses. I recommend taking them at a school with either an MA or Ph.D. program in philosophy. In-person is best as that would make it easier to get letters, but online courses would be okay. This would achieve both the goal of showing background in philosophy and getting letters of rec from philosophers. It would be best to find a program that allows people to enroll in one-off courses, but auditing could work with the right personal statement and letters of rec.

A possible alternative path would be to sneak your way into a Phil adjunct teaching position and then sell yourself as self-taught. With all your degrees, you will be able to get by with minimal official training. While in general, there is skepticism of self-teaching, a Ph.D. changes things. Create a syllabus and explain that your other academic work created a familiarization with philosophy. A school that really needs instructors might hire you. However, COVID is going to make things far more difficult than before.

Getting a visiting student post while ABD?

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

I have a question about the process of applying for becoming a visiting student in another university especially when you are in the dissertation phase. I am currently in a PhD program of one of the US universities and I am wondering how can I be a visiting student in another university (in the US) for awhile.

This is an excellent query. I seem to recall a grad student or two that I knew having done this, and it seemed to really be a boon to their career, as they were able to draw on the expertise of people outside of their home department, get good outside recommendation letters, network, and so on. However, I don't know much about the process. Although I could be totally wrong about this, I sort of suspect that you (and/or your dissertation supervisor) just need to approach a person or two at the department or two that you would like to visit to see if their department would be willing to have you.

But again, I am really just speculating here. Do any readers have experience with this? It might be great to hear both about the process of becoming a visiting student at the dissertation stage, and the costs and benefits of doing so! 

Alternative paths to academic philosophy jobs?

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

The standard path towards landing an academic job in philosophy involves getting a doctoral degree in philosophy, and upon its completion, either securing a post-doctoral position in a related field or (if one is lucky) securing a fixed-term or tenure-track position within a philosophy department.

Now, I get the sense that there is some apprehension towards offering someone who has already obtained a doctoral degree (in a different subject) a place within the philosophy department to complete another doctoral degree, perhaps for reasons of fairness -- that given the competitive nature, it is only fair that someone who does not have a doctoral degree be offered a chance to obtain that degree than someone who already has a doctoral degree.

However, without a doctorate in philosophy, it appears difficult (much harder than it usually would be for people with a philosophy doctorate) to secure a post-doctoral position in philosophy, especially if the area of their original doctorate is pretty far from their primary(ish) research interests in philosophy. Even if one were to chance upon a rare instance where they do secure a post-doc position, it appears to be an uphill battle to convince a hiring committee that one indeed has sufficient philosophical background to teach philosophy at an undergraduate level (I have a suspicion that many would not consider having a master's degree to be sufficient). It therefore seems that, at best, one no more competitive within the job market after the end of that post-doc tenure even if they were to be lucky enough to land a post-doctoral position in philosophy without a doctoral degree in the subject (again, I suspect that one would, in fact, be less competitive on the job market because of the unconventional academic path).

So, more specifically, I have the following questions:

(i) is there an alternative path towards landing an academic job in philosophy that is just as effective/efficient as the standard path?

(ii) if the standard path is all that is available, what could someone who has already obtained a doctorate in a different subject (and is currently pursuing a master's degree in philosophy) do to make themselves reasonably competitive when applying for their second PhD so that their application is not dismissed on the account that they have already received a doctoral degree?

Interesting questions. I'm not sure that there is an alternative path toward landing an academic job in philosophy. But fortunately, I'm not sure there's any reason to think that PhD program admissions committees in philosophy are likely to be apprehensive toward admitting someone who already has a PhD in another field. Far from it, my guess is that admissions committees may find candidates like this especially interesting--as the person's expertise in another field could well enrich their department. Indeed, what could be better than having a new PhD student who has expertise in (say) physics, or psychology, or biology, political science, sociology, etc.? All of these fields (and many others besides!) have much to offer philosophy, and I imagine it might not only be interesting on a day-to-day basis to have someone like that in the department, but also educational, offering grad students and faculty alike fertile ground for expanding their horizons and knowledge-base.

But these are just my thoughts. What are yours?

Doing conference commentaries in grad school?

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

I am an incoming first-year PhD student (thank you everyone for all of the wonderful advice on applications last year!), and my department only offers travel funding for presenting or commenting at a professional conference (i.e., no graduate student conferences). Is investing time in trying to comment on papers worth it? If so, how does one go about doing this? Are early PhD students unlikely to receive these opportunities without publications? Any advice about how this process works is greatly appreciated (especially as some conferences appear to be planning on being in-person starting in the fall).

Good questions! I'm not entirely sure what the answers are, but here are some quick thoughts. It seems to me like it could very much be worth doing conference commentaries while in grad school, particularly if your department offers travel funding. First, you'll get practice reading, thinking about, and responding to professional level work-in-progress. Second, you'll get to attend a lot of other talks, which is an excellent learning opportunity. Finally, you'll get to meet people in the profession! It's important, however, to do a good job with your commentary, so I'd definitely suggest running your commentary by your grad advisor or another faculty member of two. In terms of how to become a conference commentator, I expect the best way may be to simply email the conference organizers and express interest. However, I'm not sure how open conference organizers are early PhD students giving commentaries. What do you all think? Do any of you have any helpful tips or experiences to share?

Tips for teaching one's first course?

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

Any advice for a PhD student teaching his first course? What to do, what not to do, things you wish you had known, etc. It's a 200-level course in metaphysics.

Great question! Another reader responded:

Play to your strengths. Do not try to learn a pile of new things the first time. If you know a lot about philosophy of time, or the mind/body problem, focus on those at the cost of other topics. You need to make things easy for yourself. Be humane to your students, and do not try to be the superdo bestest ever teacher. Aim to be an effective teacher. Design assignments that do not over burden you. Think of ways that get the students learning.

Here's what I'd add:

Handling troubles with dissertation supervisors?

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

I am about to go on the job market, and I did not enjoy working with my supervisor. I am therefore determined to avoid having to interact with them or rely on them for the next steps in my career, however I worry that such independence from one's supervisor, if one lacks a strong academic network beyond that of the supervisor, is impossible. I also worry that maybe some of my misgivings aren't about this person and their team in particular, but about certain power structures in academia altogether, and so perhaps I should just pursue a non-academic career. It would be great to hear from people who might have thoughts on any of this!

I suspect that troubles with dissertation supervisors or other dissertation committee members are not uncommon. So it might be good to hear from readers who have been through similar situations on how they handled it. It would also, of course, be good to hear tips from readers more generally. Although I admittedly haven't been through the kind of situation that the OP describes, here are a few quick reactions.

External dissertation committee members?

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

PhD student here. What are reasons for and against having a dissertation committee member who is not part of your department? How do you go about inviting a professor from another department to be on your committee? Should you be working with them first/already, or at least be acquainted with them? What are the odds of their acceptance if you ask them? Are there any drawbacks to asking?

These are great questions. I imagine there are two different types of dissertation committee members who are not a part of your graduate department: committee members from other universities and committee members from a different discipline at your own university (e.g. psychology, political science, etc.). In both cases, I imagine there are two main reasons to want an external committee member like this: (1) to draw on their expertise, and (2) get another recommendation letter for the job-market. I'm not entirely sure what reasons there are against having external committee members, though, nor am I at all sure what the process looks like for seeking one out. Do any readers with experience in these matters have any tips to share?

Tips for an unusual grad applicant?

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

I finished my undergraduate degree in philosophy and a related field four years ago. At that time, I was not interested in pursuing professional philosophy, having been advised to wait and see if a safer, non-academic career might work.

Since then, I have continued to do philosophical research on my own time and have published one paper in a top specialist journal, and am working on an R&R for a top-20 generalist journal (assume for the sake of this post that the R&R makes it to publication as well). In both cases the referees have been enthusiastic and positive about the papers' arguments and contributions. So I assume that if I apply for graduate school, I will have a strong writing sample.

My undergraduate transcripts, however, are generally inconsistent and would be a major concern to an admissions committee. Despite a general upward trend (culminating in all A+'s in my final semester), my grades fall all the way across the spectrum (A+'s, F's, B's, etc), including philosophy and non-philosophy classes. Much of that was due to an untreated mental health condition. I did have good relationships with certain professors and can reliably assume that my letters will be strong but not exceptional.

I think my situation is unique because you would not generally expect someone with poor undergraduate transcripts and no graduate training to publish good papers. I am not saying my papers are outstanding (they aren't), I am just saying that they were deemed publishable and potentially publishable by referees and editors at good journals.

So here is my question: Based on what I've described, would my application be the kind that gets tossed by an R1 because my transcripts are much worse than those of top applicants, or would I be given a fair shot and actual, close consideration given the research I've done? Note that I'll only apply to programs whose faculty strengths match my research interests.

I understand that these 'what if' application questions come off as insecure and validation-seeking. But as you all know, applying is a substantial time and energy commitment, and I would really appreciate any thoughts and advice you might have. Thank you!

Interesting question. One reader submitted the following reply:

I would think that it’s a toss-up. Some committees might not look twice at you. Others will be intrigued. You should explain your upward trajectory, both to your letter writers and in your application. Ask your letter writers if they are comfortable writing a strong letter for you, ask them to be honest. I don’t think there are many applicants with publications, so I would anticipate success *somewhere*. I would apply somewhat widely and also to funded MAs. It’s a fairly unpredictable process. It’s frequently the case that people are rejected from lower ranked programs than they are accepted to. There is no clear hierarchy of candidates based on shared criteria. So ... good luck!

I agree with the general advice here, though I guess I'm a bit more optimistic than thinking it is likely to be just a 'toss-up.' After all, Unusual Applicant reports having published in a top specialist journal and having an R&R at a top-20 generalist journal, all with only an undergraduate degree. Although I've never been on a grad school admissions committee, it seems to me from the outside that these features of their application alone seem likely to me to get their application noticed--and assuming (as seems likely) that the publications are actually good work, the writing sample they submit is good, and their recommendation letters are strong, it seems to me that they should look like a really intriguing applicant. I, at any rate, would be intrigued. I do think they should address their spotty undergraduate record in some way, though I'm not sure about the best way to do it. For example, should they say that they had "now-resolved health issues" as an undergraduate that interfered with their studied? Should they disclose this to their letter-writers, if they don't already know the context behind the Unusual's spotty performance? Or, should they not disclose anything about health struggles, and just say in their application (and to their letter writers?) that they recognize their undergraduate record was spotty (due to early 'personal issues'?) but emphasize their upward trajectory, saying perhaps that as a young person it took them a little bit to mature and get their act together? I have to confess that I have no idea what the best way to address these things may be. 

What do you all think? Will Unusual Applicant be competitive in getting into grad programs? Given their spotty (though upward-trending) undergrad record, would they be best-served pursuing a Masters at the top MA program first? And how might they best address their record and trajectory, both in their applications and in communication with their letter-writers?

How have you kept working during the pandemic?

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

I'm a 3rd year PhD student (I've passed my comps. and started my proposal) and here's my query: How are y'all working, publishing, editing, applying, defending during covid pandemic? Though I see philosophy might be even more present those times, I only feel useless, and on top, not having in-person seminars, presentations etc completely blurred the exciting part of pursuing this path. I've definetly not adapted to online courses, even though I've TAed and runned tutorials in both fall and winter. Something I used to be excited doing it is now just too painfull. I've been thinking and feeling more and more that it is senseless to try to be "out-there-soon-to-be-employabe" (i.e., publishing, networking or whatever), and that I should rather have a plan B at this point (I'm 30yo). Am I done with philosophy after 12 years stringing along with it? (p.s.: I know I'm the one who might be able to answer this question, but since there are eventually people here who gave up the career etc, I'd like to hear if someone could relate and/or see this as the first indices of my leaving the field; p.s.2.: I do not consider not defending, just not being "out-there-soon-to-be-employabe"). Thanks a lot.

I empathize with this reader. As a hard-core introvert, I expect that I may have been able to handle the isolation of the pandemic more than most. But still, the changes during this time have deprived me of many professional things that I enjoy, sapping those parts of my life in academia of a lot of joy. Here, I particularly have in mind hybrid classes, where I would often only have 1-3 students in the classroom with everyone else on Zoom (which was really frustrating), as well as the lack of in-person conferences (I presented at two APA's this year, and had been really excited to travel to them, catch up with friends in the profession, browse the book exhibits, etc.). Still, I've been able to keep going pretty well with things like research because I mostly work alone and enjoy working that way.