The Philosophers' Cocoon

Universities treating students as customers

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

At my university (in Australasia) administrators have claimed that students are customers or clients, using terms like "stakeholders" to describe not only current enrollees but also school leavers we are "targeting" for "marketing purposes." A few years ago I read a comprehensive article that argued why we shouldn't believe that students are customers. I'd like to hear from readers of the Cocoon whether they agree or disagree with my administration's sentiment, i.e., that students are customers and that we faculty are contractually obligated to provide them with a product (a degree?) or service (learning?). Second, if readers have recommendations for where I can find arguments like this (either for or against the aforementioned thesis), I'd appreciate them sharing the URL or source. Thank you!

I'd love to hear what readers think about this too. I've always naturally rebelled against this way of conceiving students, considering a university education a privilege rather than a purchased product. I suspect that many (most?) readers will object to this way of conceiving of students too, but that most of us also probably recognize that, regardless, universities have become big businesses. Not sure what can be done about it, but I'd be very curious to hear what other readers think about all of this! 

Public philosophy is an oligopoly--and here why this is a problem

Some recent takes on the Enlightenment resonated strongly with the broad public. This includes Steven Pinker's Enlightenment Now: The Case for Reason, Science, Humanism, and Progress  (2018), and David Graeber and David Wengrow's The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity (2021).

I'm not going to write a detailed analysis of these books (I have done so for Graeber and Wengrow, which will appear at some point). Suffice it to say here, while I think there are some merits in both works, they also suffer from deficiencies in the conceptualization of what the Enlightenment is, its influences, and also the broader implications. 

And this is not a surprise, given that any scholarly domain of expertise requires significant research and experience, which neither of these authors can profess on the Enlightenment. Maybe you, like me, would love to see a book on the Enlightenment reach the big public that is written by an actual specialist in 18th-century western philosophy or history. Sadly, no Enlightenment scholar has been able to resonate so well with the public as these two works (if I am mistaken and there is a NYT bestseller book on the Enlightenment, please let me know!) 

This is a symptom of a larger phenomenon, an oligopoly within pop culture. As backed up with detailed data in this post by Adam Mastroianni, a few franchises (reimaginings, live-action remakes, sequels, same universe movies) dominate pop culture and the phenomenon has worsened significantly over the last decades. A few winners take up an increasing portion of the market share, leading to a decrease in diversity of output.

Sometimes philosophers are still asked "Why don't you do public philosophy?" as if this is a supply-side issue. It is not. There has never been more public philosophy available than at present, many of it is publicly available. Magazines such as The Philosophers' Magazine, Aeon, Psyche, and many others feature public philosophy from a wide range of thinkers. Podcasts such as Hi-Phi nation, Philosophy without Any Gaps, and What's Left of Philosophy  offer professionally produced, engaging and intellectually stimulating content. Individual philosopher YouTube channels make philosophy accessible to everyone, including Ellie Anderson's continental philosophy series, Greg Sadler's Speculative fiction series and Bryan Van Norden's Chinese philosophy class lectures. 

So, when the public turns to Jordan Peterson to look for life advice, rather than to philosophers, it is not because of the supply side. There is really no reason to shame, say, an Aristotle scholar into doing public philosophy in the hopes that her work will reach a disaffected teen who is wondering how to live the good life, and faute de mieux, turns to Peterson. There is already a lot out there (of course, we should welcome and support this hypothetical Aristotle scholar if she wants to do public philosophy!)

We should also recognize that there are very, very few academics who can make it as public intellectuals, for reasons that are totally unrelated to the intrinsic merits of their work, or even to their communication skills. 

What's happening is that public intellectuals are working in an ecology where a small number of winners get a disproportionate share in public attention and media capture. This is on the supply side part of a more general winner-takes-all mentality. For publishing with the four major fiction publishers, for instance, it was fine a few years ago to be a decent "midlister" (i.e., someone who sells books that make a profit for the publisher but will never reap high figures). But now, a beginning author must exude that ineffable quality of being a rising star, of a potential NYT bestseller author to even get a deal with an agent (and hence a publisher). As a result, many authors are querying in vain, and some have turned to self-publishing. Few self-published authors can break through into traditional markets, though several have a decent readership and make decent money from their work. 

Fortunately, as academics we can still survive and thrive as small fish. Our scholarly books get contracts based on their perceived academic merit rather than on sales potential (especially in academic presses, which are often heavily subsidized). And many of us do reach/have a significant platform beyond academia. This platform is valuable. We should support colleagues and provide institutional support for people who wish to engage in public scholarship. But it is important to note how skewed the field is, and to adjust expectations accordingly. 

It is worth thinking about why people are happy with this oligopoly--differently put, what explains the increasing homogenization in pop culture. Mastroianni speculates: 

As options multiply, choosing gets harder. You can’t possibly evaluate everything, so you start relying on cues like “this movie has Tom Hanks in it” or “I liked Red Dead Redemption, so I’ll probably like Red Dead Redemption II,” which makes you less and less likely to pick something unfamiliar. 

Philosophy is difficult. While the public struggle with philosophical questions on a daily basis (on e.g., the meaning of events in their lives, the abortion debate etc), trying to actively seek out philosophical resources that are publicly accessible is hard. People also have many other non-material needs, such as entertainment, comfort, a bit of joy, spiritual assurance, and philosophy is not a sure route to any of these things. This is why, although I think many people would benefit from engaging with philosophy, their bandwidth for it is very limited. Moreover, without media attention and platform, it is hard for the public to reach sources they might resonate well with.

I've got no easy solution how to fix this problem, but I think it is worth fixing.

We benefit from intellectual diversity in the public sphere. When diversity is mentioned, it is often in the context of viewpoint diversity (which often means that a few contentious polarized positions get a platform, e.g., on abortion and gender), but I'm interested in the broader phenomenon of a shared intellectual authority, as Helen Longino and other have detailed. 

It is no coincidence that many of the most high profile public intellectuals are at research-intensive universities, often Ivy League, where they largely compete with other similarly advantaged people for the limited attention from the public. Competition is fierce, which also provides bad incentives for giving unnuanced hot takes on recent issues. Public intellectuals at smaller colleges are sidelined, and we are the poorer for it. Public philosophers with a significant platform, who get 5-figure speaking fees (I know that this in fact happens!) should try to lift up more voices, especially when asked to speak about areas far outside of their expertise. But because the goods of being a high-profile intellectual are so significant (connections, money) there is little incentive to do so. 

I'd be interested to discuss what we can do to make more of the excellent public philosophy that is being done to trickle toward the general public. Contrary to perception, it is not a zero-sum game. If more people get interested in public philosophy, they might be tempted to engage with more public philosophical works. This would be to great mutual benefit, I think. 

The gamification of philosophy: how the profession became hoop-jumpers for top journals

Philosophy is gamified. We jump through hoops to try to get published in the "right" journals, and we do it willingly. We almost all do it, even those very lucky few of us who have earned tenure.

Perhaps we do it because this is genuinely the work we wish to write. Perhaps we just want to show we're still in the game. As Maeve McKeown writes in a paper on gamification and political theory  which just as well could apply to philosophy: 

Contemporary political theory is a game. Individuals compete to publish in ‘top’ journals, to amass greater numbers of publications than their peers; then journal-ranking is combined with number of publications generating scores. The aim is to get the most points. Whoever gets the most points wins: they get the best jobs and the most prestige. This Hunger Games–like contest has serious consequences for people’s lives, determining who can make a living from academia, who will be relegated to the academic precariat or forced out of the profession [...] these conditions are stifling intellectual creativity, diversity, and dissent in political theory/philosophy. 

Now, gamification isn't necessarily bad. We gamify things that we might otherwise not see through, such as language-learning. Yet, gamification narrows a broad range of experiences into a predictable path.

New Journal Announcement: Journal of Mexican Philosophy (JMxP)

This is a guest post by Robert Eli Sanchez, Jr. Associate Professor of Philosophy at Occidental College: 

 

We would like to officially announce the launch of the Journal of Mexican Philosophy (JMxP), a peer reviewed journal that aims to make Mexican philosophy available and attractive to an international community of students and scholars. The journal URL is here:

 

https://www.journalofmexicanphilosophy.org/

 

The inaugural issue features original articles by Manuel Vargas (on the philosophy of Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz), Amy Oliver (on the value of Mexican philosophy today), and Guillermo Hurtado (on the problem of malinchismo), as well as an original translation of an early work by José Vasconcelos (translated by Clinton Tolley).

 

In addition to diversifying and enriching the history of philosophy, the journal aims to set a model for linguistic inclusivity in mainstream academic philosophy and to cultivate working relationships with philosophers outside the English-speaking world (our journal is bilingual and will include at least one essay by a Mexican colleague in whatever language they prefer to philosophize in). We will also include one translation of Mexican philosophy, giving priority to the contributions of women, indigenous and Afro-Carribean philosophers, and political dissidents. Please check out Volume 1, Number 1 of the journal here! 

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? 

Using PhilPeople features to find referees?

In response to Helen's recent post on the troubles that journal editors have finding referees and comments by a number of readers there that they are rarely asked to review, Mike Titelbaum (University of Wisconsin-Madison) helpfully writes in that David Bourget and David Chalmers suggest the following feature at PhilPeople:

"Our 'find a philosopher' feature of philpeople is a good start. You have to pick the relevant topic quite narrowly and order by number of publications in the topic, past five years. That gives you as top hits people that are active in the area and have solid publication records. If you don't do 'past five years' you get more senior people, who aren't going to be new to you or likely to be available. I bet many editors would benefit from these simple instructions."

I hope this helps in some small way with the ongoing 'publication emergency', as it might help authors get more timely verdicts while better distributing the burdens on editors and referees.

Seems like the peer review system has given up the ghost

I am an associate editor for Ergo, and I was idly wondering last night what would happen once I reach Reviewer Z.

The situation is this: A minimum of two referee reports are needed for each paper that is sent out for review. Each referee is assigned a letter, and I've already burned through Referee invites A through F in a couple of days.

Each referee says the same thing "too busy". One wrote to me the following "Sorry, but this is the 13th refereeing request that I've received so far in 2022 [this was 15 February], and I've accepted most of the others. I try to limit myself to accepting about one per week on average."

Similarly, for the Journal of Analytic Theology, I along with the other executive editor and managing editor made a happy dance when finally, reviewer 8 for a very specialized paper said yes to a referee request. 

Just a couple of days ago, one of the journals I am on the editorial board for wrote to us

"Since the COVID-19 pandemic began it has been increasingly difficult for us to find referees to review papers that are submitted to our journal. At the same time, we receive more papers every year. It is common these days that we have to approach six or seven people before we are able to find someone to review a paper. In light of this situation, I would like to ask you for help and request you to review papers more frequently than before."

It has come to the point that the most suitable referee(s) for a paper are almost never available. It takes us so long to find reviewers, sometimes a month, six weeks or more (this situation is also exacerbated by the fact that many people don't respond to referee requests at all). This lengthens the span of time even more for the total review process. All sorts of small fixes don't work anymore, e.g., shortening the time that people get to review, asking for alternatives (this is still very much appreciated, but unfortunately alternative referees are just as unavailable). 

Of course, it could be that my editorial experience is atypical--I'm just one scholar.

But it is my strong suspicion that the peer review system is finally broken beyond reasonable repair. We've seen a slow worsening of the situation and the pandemic has finally broken the system. People are burnt out and overburdened, job candidates increasingly desperate. 

In light of this, we need to do something. We owe it to authors to change the system, I think, rather than tinkering at the edges. Any suggestions (ranging from proposals to overhaul the entire system and how to do this practically, such as by our own Marcus Arvan in this paper co-authored with Liam Bright and Remco Heesen) welcome. *

Conferences and professional hierarchies

On Twitter, Emily Brier (Lecturer in Composition, Western Carolina University) writes: 

Anybody want to talk about how as an MA student at conferences nobody (and I mean NOBODY) would talk to me, and when I was a CC instructor nobody TT would talk to me, and how conferences often just reinscribe hierarchy in ways that show why TT folks are itching to go back FTF?

Our own Helen De Cruz followed up:

I have been thinking about this often. FTF conferences are often touted as great networking opportunities, but if you comes from a low-prestige program or are an MA student you're often just being ignored. The APA "smoker" reception is a good example of how this works. When I was a job candidate with a diploma from an obscure European program, I'd just stand around at that reception holding a glass and no-one to talk to. Meanwhile, you had the stars from the top department everyone would flock to. Eventually, I found some other job seekers...And we had great conversations. Still, conferences reinforce hierarchies. The informality of that in between talk results in a lot of people being left out of that talk. How can conferences provide more equitable opportunities for informal networking?

These are good questions. I myself endured a few rather humiliating conference experiences early in my career, and like Helen I would often stand (and sit) around at APAs with no one to talk to. Fortunately, this has changed over time, at least in part (or so it seems to me) because I adopted Helen's own strategy: trying to talk to other early-career people like me who didn't have jobs at fancy places. This is also part of the reason why I created the Cocoon, and in fact I used to hold informal Cocoon get-togethers at APAs I attended to provide a forum for early-career people to come together and get to know each other. I'll be at the Central APA this year, so maybe I'll try to hold a get-together or meet-up of sorts. 

But in any case, do any of you have any suggestions for answering Helen's question? How might conferences provide more equitable opportunities for informal networking?

What could search committees do better?

In our job-market discussion thread, a reader writes:

I would appreciate a thread/post that provided candidates with an opportunity to discuss the "bad behavior" of hiring committees...

Given the blog's supportive mission, I don't think a thread calling out bad behavior is appropriate here. However, another reader added a nice suggestion:

In light of anonymous associate professors' post, maybe such a thread could be framed as candidates constructively reporting things that they don't like/contribute to bad mental health, etc? That might also get more uptake than people complaining, especially if people are not aware of what candidates would prefer...

My list would include:

1. Not updating shortlisted candidates who didn't make the fly out stage. (Or, more generally, not updating candidates who you told made progress but then did not advance.) It comes off as disrespectful, even cruel.
2. Not having accurate timelines. If you tell candidates you will contact them on date X, then either update them to tell them why you can't do so (e.g. delay), or be more careful about giving such estimates. Constantly waiting and checking makes it very difficult to focus, especially when you're waiting for news on a particular day.

As a quick aside, following a few other comments, my sense is that candidates may over-estimate how much control search committees have over these kinds of things, as things like HR requirements and unexpected logistical difficulties (such as delays in getting administrators to approve finalist lists, etc.) can seriously constrain what search committees can do. But, that being said, I think a constructive thread on things that candidates wish search committees would do better is a nice idea.

What do you all think? (Note: please avoid "calling out" committees or specific behaviors that an individual reading this thread might infer "they are referring to me". Instead, please post in general terms on things that you have found frustrating as a candidate and what you wish search committees would do better. Thanks!) 

Talent and Bias

By Sam Duncan

In this post I want to dig more deeply into some points about the deeply worrying effects of our belief in talent on our students made by Allison Gopnik and Eric Schwitzgebel. As Gopnik notes there’s good reason to think that there is some causal relationship between the fact that philosophy puts so much stock in talent and our lack of gender and racial diversity. And Schwitzgebel paints a very plausible picture of one way that this likely plays out in practice; as he notes it’s a lot easier for a young white guy to get away with various ploys that allow him to seem smart than it might be for a woman or a member of a minority group (It’s also a lot less risky). However, I think there are deeper ways that a belief in talent sets up bias in our field.

Let me begin with a question: When you look at student papers or consider how to respond to student comments, questions, and challenges in class do you think about whose paper it is or who made the comment? I’m betting that you do. If you make much of an effort to know who your students are it’s hard not to do this, and to a great extent this is part of getting to know our students. But this also opens up a danger of bias and believing that talent determines success in philosophy makes this danger much worse.

The job market & financial health of universities

An anonymous reader writes in:

I was recently thinking about applying to a private, non-elite SLAC simply because it's a lot closer to my and my wife's families. I decided not to for a lot of reasons but one deep hesitation I had was that I know a lot of the private, non-elite SLACs are likely to flat out fold in the next ten or fifteen years and the public ones are likely to come in for some deep cuts. This brings me to a question that I thought it would be very good to put out there: How in the world does one get any information on the financial health of the place one is applying and related stuff like enrollment trends?

This seems super important. The people who ended up getting two jobs I interviewed in the past at public SLACs have already gotten laid off. It would have been a disaster for me and my family if I'd left a renewable lecturer gig . . . that, while shitty in oh so many ways, was at least stable, for a TT gig only to get laid off in three years. It seems important that applicants know that this is a real threat they need to worry about at a lot of schools, especially SLACs.

This is a really important question, and I'm really glad someone asked it. Over the past couple of years, I too have heard of at least of a few horror stories--cases where someone was finally able to get a tenure-track job, only to see their job eliminated a year or two after they started. Alas, I'm not sure how to answer the question. You can of course ask faculty or administrators at the university about the financial health of the institution (either during an on-campus visit or after a hiring offer is extended). But, as for asking faculty, my sense is that sometimes even they can be quite in the dark about these matters, as the actual financial health of the institution may only be known by upper administration (which, I think, is why so many of the recent waves of faculty-line eliminations have come as a total shock out of the blue to those who faced them).

So, while the OP's question is a super important one, I don't have any real guidance above and beyond: ask around before accepting a job offer. But this advice probably isn't all that helpful. What do you all think? Do you have any helpful tips or insights (or personal experiences) on this issue? 

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?

Freelosophy: a centralized forum for commenting on philosophy papers

Two philosophers, Filippo Contesi and  Giulio Pietroiusti (University of Barcelona), have created a new site, Freelosophy, which allows users to search and leave public comments on PhilPapers or PhilArchive. Contesi writes:

In some academic disciplines, publication and discussion of articles
before journal submission is generally much more widespread than in
philosophy. Indeed, most journal publishing houses are publicly
committed to considering pre-archived papers for publication. You can
double-check this for your journal of choice here: https://v2.sherpa.ac.uk/romeo/

Philosophers already can make their pre-prints publicly available at
any point on at least one pre-print repository: PhilArchive.org.
However, currently existing web platforms for public discussion of
scientific pre-prints (e.g. PubPeer.org) cannot be used to discuss
PhilArchive-d papers.

So, we have created a website that allows anyone to comment freely on
papers present on PhilArchive and/or PhilPapers: https://freelosophy.github.io/
On Freelosophy, scholars can add comments to a paper (and read them)
by using its PhilPapers/Archive ID, an identifier present on the page
of each paper on PhilArchive. Each paper on PhilPapers also has its
own PhilPaper/Archive ID (in the URL).

Everyone interested is most welcome to start using our service, which
is currently in public beta. Please do not hesitate to contact us at
philfreedback@gmail.com for any comments or feedback.

Readers can learn more about how the site works at Daily Nous. I hope the site takes off, as I think it's a great endeavor--and I encourage the Cocoon's readers to try it out!

Retracting an accepted article from Philosophia?

Back in our October "how can we help you?" thread, a reader writes:

I just had a paper accepted at Philosophia two days before the really icky news broke. What do I do? Should I retract it? Interested in both moral and practical reasons to retract/not retract.

Maybe-important details: I'm an early-career philosopher in a TT job at a small school.

These are very good questions. For those of you who may be unaware of what happened with Philosophia, here is the relevant background. What do you all think? 

How many applicants do jobs receive by AOS?

(Temporarily moving to the front for further discussion)

In our job-market discussion thread, an early career philosopher asks:

I am wondering if we can have a discussion where search committees share the AOS they seek and the number of applications they received in this job cycle. I think that a post like that will be especially valuable for early careers. We know that for most open searches, a typical number is around 600, but what about areas like M&E, history, ethics, non-western, gender, race, etc,.?

This is a great query. I think it could be really eye-opening to hear from search committees about how many applicants they received by AOS. 

If you're on a search committee, please do feel free to share in the comments section how many applicants you received this year, and what the advertised AOS was/were. Please feel free to share anonymously, but if possible, please also feel free to mention what kind of position you advertised (e.g. postdoc, non-TT/VAP position, TT, etc.). I'm really curious to see people's responses!

Nominations for prizes?

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

I sometimes see 'calls for nominations' for certain prizes, e.g. the APA Article Prize. I have no idea what the norms are for these. Is it acceptable to suggest to someone that they nominate you for the prize? If so, would you only ask someone like your supervisor who knows you well and has a stake in your success, or could you also ask someone you don't know that well but who might appreciate your work? Or, is the idea really that a nominator just nominates someone whose work they appreciate, without any prior discussion?

Good questions, and I don't know the answers. What do you all think?

Inferential model on women in philosophy

Katharina Nieswandt (Associate Professor of Philosophy, Concordia University) alerted me to this new study on the gender ratio in philosophy. To the best of the researchers' knowledge, it provides the first inferential-statistical model of the causes of gender-inequality in the profession. Their primary findings?:

Overall, our findings provide (of course defeasible) evidence for the claim that students choose philosophy because they perceive a good fit between philosophy, qua requiring brilliance, and themselves, qua being brilliant, combative, systematizing, and indifferent towards “worldly rewards,” like family-life and money.

Future research should investigate whether these factors are causes of the gender gap or perhaps partly the result of a self-serving, stereotypical image that philosophy students develop after choosing philosophy as their major (perhaps reinforced by the discipline’s culture).  More research is also needed of the relations between combativeness, systematizing, and the sense of belonging in philosophy:  Is combativeness really the driving factor behind gender differences on these variables, as our research suggests?  In addition, it would be important to test to what extent our results generalize to comparisons between philosophy and other fields than psychology.

Philosophical readers will ultimately be most interested in interventions. Foundational research rarely licenses pragmatic steps directly, of course, but the following two inferences appear justified:  First, there probably is no quick fix for philosophy’s unequal gender ratio, since that might be part and parcel of a general social perception of certain abilities, character traits and life priorities as female or male.  Second, pre-university interventions might be necessary, given the well-replicated finding that gender stereotypes develop early...

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.

The job-market dress code?

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

Can we have a discussion of the norms for job market fashion etiquette (i.e. for on-campus interviews), for both women and men. I understand the need to dress for the occasion, but it seems that everyone overdresses a little bit and ends up never wearing those outfits ever again (save at a wedding). In the case of men, for example, is one really required to wear a suit and tie? Can one get away with just a button up, slacks, and maybe a blazer (but no tie, non-matching colors, etc.). Do committee members really care about this stuff? I feel that overdressing can kill the philosophical spirit inside!

Good question. I seem to recall us discussing this on the Cocoon a while back, but I can't quite find that thread--and, in any case, norms can change over time, so it's probably good to discuss it again. What do you all think? What are job-market dress norms these days?

ADPA data on non-academic careers

Over at Daily Nous the other week, Carolyn Dicey Jennings (UC Merced) provided a 10-year update on the Academic Placement Data and Analysis (APDA) project, the purpose of which "is to collect, analyze, and distribute data on job placement for graduates of PhD programs in philosophy."

As a member of the ADPA's board of advisors, I volunteered to discuss the ADPA's findings on non-academic job careers for philosophy PhDs. Eric Schwitzgebel (UC Riverside) should be discussing demographic data at The Splintered Mind.

What, then, has the ADPA found about non-academic careers for Philosophy PhDs? Here is a quick summary:

(1) How many philosophy PhDs pursue non-academic careers? 

Over the past ten years (2011-21), the ADPA surveyed 6030 PhD graduates. Of those surveyed, 2606 (or 37.6%) are now in permanent academic jobs, and 846 (or 14%) are in non-academic jobs. The remaining philosophy PhDs are either in part-time academic positions or did not report.

(2) What kinds of non-academic careers are philosophy PhDs in?

Top-ten words used to describe positions (in order of frequency): Director, Manager, Senior, Associate, Assistant, Analyst, Research, Software, Teacher, and Consultant.

Top ten industries (in order of frequency, of around 800 in database): education, technology, law, health, consultancy, government, university administration, finance, non-university education, and non-profits/NGOs.

(2) What kinds of salaries do philosophy PhDs make in non-academic industry?

• Mean salaries reported 
  
  • Academic: $79,237 (n = 477)
  • Non-Academic: $179,833 (n = 42)
• Median Salaries
  
  • Academic: $73,000 
  • Non-Academic: $100,000 

(3) What kind of job-placements do PhDs prefer: academic or non-academic?

Of those who received academic jobs, 84.8% reported academic placement as their priority. However, of those who entered non-academic jobs, only 52.9% preferred academic placement, 17.6% percent preferred non-academic placement, and 29.4% reported no strong preference.

(4) Do PhD programs support students seeking non-academic placement?

• Of those who received non-academic employment (n = 63), only 17.5% felt unsupported by their graduate program.
• A plurality of (all) respondents felt their program was neither supportive or unsupportive (n = 27 or 42.9%).
• However, individuals without placement information (n = 11) unanimously indicated that they felt their graduate program was very unsupportive of pursuing non-academic careers.
• Some qualitative responses: 

The faculty of my department were unprepared to offer support for students pursuing non-academic jobs. If anything, they looked down on such students.

Nonacademic jobs were mentioned in the professional development seminar, but no real guidance was offered beyond that. There may have been other resources available, but I did not know about them.

Pursuing professions other than teaching philosophy is discouraged. Several of my fellow students did not disclose that they were interested in professions other than teaching, for example, pursuing a law degree.

Program officials and some professors have made comments supporting non-academic jobs and they occasionally offer a talk on this. However, there is no focused and continued support.

My department has taken some pretty good steps to help us with this. But during the times where I have thought about not pursuing an academic career I have felt like I had to keep it secret or the department would take me less seriously, give me less support, etc.

(5) Are philosophical skills and knowledge job-relevant?

84.1% of those in non-academic jobs found philosophical skills to be relevant to their non-academic career (n=63). Only 53.2% found philosophical material to be relevant (n=62). 

Some qualitative responses:

My work in narrative ethics informs everything I do from managing business functions such as HR, to fostering community values, developing student leadership as well as developing our marketing strategy and posting on Instagram. Everything we do as humans involves stories and sharing experiences - I have never doubted that my PhD research was valuable, practical and of ongoing benefit to me as a person and as a CEO.

Doing logic and looking at formal systems made the transition into coding and data analysis quite easy.

None of my research was directly applicable, but studying logic helped prepare me for a career in tech.

The vast majority of the topics you study in philosophy are irrelevant to work in the business world. However, the skills you develop and the techniques you learn through the practice of philosophy are invaluable. Being a strong and logical thinker is a huge asset in a business environment.

I engage in textual analysis and rational argument on a regular basis in my employment as a business lawyer -- skills that I acquired and honed in my philosophy graduate education.

The skills of reading and thinking carefully, and communicating well orally and in writing, have helped make me more effective in my position as an academic administrator.

In a generic way, the critical thinking, writing, teaching and public speaking skills I have gained have all set me apart in the workplace.

What should we take away from these findings? As with any study using non-randomly collected samples, we must be careful making strong inferences about the total population. Still, bearing this in mind, here are a few hot takes:

1. About 1 in 7 philosophy PhDs in this sample report working in non-academic careers: that's a good number of people!

2. Philosophy PhDs can end up in a variety of good non-academic careers, some of which involve learning computer programming, but many of which appear to be in well-paying, non-STEM areas (government jobs, consulting, etc.). 

3. Philosophers can make a lot of money outside of academia: of course, it is hard to know exactly how accurate this sample is, as the sample sizes are small and those who are underemployed could be less likely to report. Further, there is presumably wide variance among the salaries of those in non-academic industries. Still, the fact that philosophers can achieve high-salary positions in industry shouldn't be too surprising. Philosophers are as a rule highly talented, conscientious people who can think slowly and carefully as well as quickly on their feet; can understand and grapple effectively with very complex problems, speak persuasively in front of groups (viz. experience in teaching and seminars), etc. Moving from academia to non-academic industry can be difficult for philosophy PhDs--but clearly, it can have real upside, as my Philosophers in Industry Directory also suggests.

4. There is significant variance on the kinds of jobs that philosophy PhDs want: Yes, according to the ADPA's 10-year sample, a supermajority of those who have academic jobs desire and academic job. And yes, a slim majority of those who leave academia have a strong preference for an academic job, as well. Still, a significant proportion of PhDs in the sample report being less invested in academia, either wanting non-academic work or reporting no strong preference either way.

5. Most PhDs reported that their programs were neither supportive nor unsupportive of non-academic employment, and a significant proportion reported that their programs were very unsupportive. Further, qualitative responses suggest that PhD students may fear even disclosing an interest in pursuing a non-academic career -- and in general (with a few exceptions), it doesn't seem that many departments do very much to help their PhDs pursue non-academic jobs.

6. Philosophical skills (and, to a lesser extent, philosophical knowledge) seem to be job-relevant outside of academia: the kinds of skills philosophers cultivate (reading, writing, thinking, speaking, logic, creative problem solving) are widely reported by those outside of academia as directly relevant to their careers. And over 50% of those who reported said that philosophical material is job-relevant too (such as knowledge of ethics, etc.).

Finally, here's one more hot-take, to echo some points I made a few weeks ago:

7. It probably behooves academic philosophy (and grad programs) to do far more to support students seeking non-academic work. Placing students into good careers not only reflects well on the discipline (including to administrators, parents, prospective students, taxpayers, etc.). It may also be conducive to philosophy-supporting philanthropy. Humanities departments (including philosophy departments) are being closed and or otherwise threatened left and right--and like it or not, for better or worse, we live in a time when public and philanthropic support for academic disciplines are increasingly crucial. Many other academic disciplines realized this long ago, and have cultivated industry ties in ways that help their disciplines and departments thrive. The more that philosophers thrive outside outside of academia, the more likely (it seems to me) the philosophy will survive and thrive in academia. Or so it seems to me.

But these are just my hot takes. What are yours? 

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.

What are standards of co-authorship?

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

What are the standards of honest co-authorship in philosophy? I have recently been asking around to fellow grad students, and in one case, one person reported drafting the entire paper by themselves, receiving feedback by their supervisors, and being asked to add their names as co-authors. In another case, the student recounted a similar story, except this time they acknowledged that the more senior person's ideas were what made the paper worth submitting to a journal in the first place, even though the student wrote the draft entirely by themselves. In a third case, the student researched and wrote all but the introductory/'background' sections of the paper, but the paper is still billed as an even co-authorship. Are these students being exploited, or is this normal?

These are excellent questions. Given that co-authorship is relatively uncommon in philosophy (but seemingly increasing!), I'm hoping we can have a good discussion. One reader submitted the following response:

I work on authorship, and I have co-authored with a number of people, junior, senior, and peers. This is a complex set of questions you ask. Further, one cannot reliably know what happened if you just hear one person's story. The other co-authors might see things very differently. If the various students you mention feel exploited, then they need to talk with an ethics person on campus, that is, someone involved in research integrity. At many universities there is usually a committee. But they can initially talk with a member of such a committee.

I think this follow-up is broadly correct: co-authorship is complex, and as a spouse of someone who works in a STEM field, I've experienced many of these complexities second-hand. My sense is that in science, there doesn't seem to be any exact standard of how to settle co-authorship (including the order of co-authors listed). Instead, there appear to be some general rules of thumb that co-authors often broadly negotiate these matters according to, but which are not always respected (and indeed, in some cases--all too many cases, in fact--abused). Allow me to explain, and then open things up for discussion.

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?

How the academic job market looks: several sets of comparisons

I know a lot of people have been interested in how this year's job market would compare to last year's, given how uniquely horrific things were due to COVID last time around. So, now that job ads have been posted for next year for about two months (job ads usually begin in early August), how do things look so far? Here are a few interesting comparisons (August 1st-September 30th):

Total Job Ads on PhilJobs

• 2021: 133 ads
• 2020: 65 
• 2019: 146 
• 2018: 156 
• 2017: 135
• 2016: 155
• 2015: 136

The good news, then, is that there are more than twice as many job ads this year as last year, and that this year's job market is fairly close to how things were pre-COVID. The bad news is that, compared to before COVID, this year's market so is still on the lower end of the spectrum. One other potential positive thing I've noticed this year, however, is that there seem to be more ads than usual that advertise more than one job (for example, a few ads advertise 2-4 jobs apiece!). I don't have time to compile data on this right now, but is worth bearing in mind.

What about 'tenure-track (or similar)' job ads? Here again are some comparisons:

'Tenure track or similar' ads on Philjobs

• 2021: 75 ads
• 2020: 22 (!)
• 2019: 80
• 2018: 106
• 2017: 83
• 2016: 95
• 2015: 88

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.

(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?

PhilPapers publication metrics?

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

I am wondering what - if anything - is the use of one's "Publication metrics" on PhilPeople. For those who aren't aware of this feature, PhilPeople provides users with their percentile rankings (Q1, Q2, Q3, top 5%, top 1%, etc.) for their publications, paper downloads, and citations, both overall and in specific subject areas. The rankings are relative to "pro" users, which are users with either a PhD in Philosophy or at least one publication in one of the "Most Popular" journals according to PhilPapers. Using this feature, you might learn that you are in the top 1% of downloads in say, Social Epistemology in the past five years, or that you are in the 90% percentile for publication volume in Value Theory.

I find this feature kind of neat. However, I can't imagine a situation where I would actually tell anyone about my publication metrics - if I did, I am sure it would be seen as being in bad taste. But at the same time, it seems like these metrics would be be useful information for search committees or for tenure and promotion cases: it's a decent way of showing whether or not people are actually engaging with your work, and how engagement with your research compares with others working in a similar area. Publication Metrics on PhilPeople is a bit like one's h-index and citations on Google Scholar, which I have heard of people mentioning for T&P, but PhilPeople has the advantage of being specific to the discipline, or even the sub-discipline. One issue might be that - unlike Google scholar citations and h-index - these metrics aren't public: as far as I can tell, one can only see one's own metrics, not those of others. I'm not sure why PhilPeople doesn't make them public, but doing so would mean that they're worth more than simple navel-gazing.

This is an interesting query. It does seem like these kinds of statistics might be useful in some regards when it comes to hiring or tenure and promotion. After all, the statistics do in essence 'compare you' to other specialists, indicating how much you publish in your field and how interested other people are in reading your work. On the other hand, I wonder how useful hiring or T&P committees might find this kind of information.

In any case, because I'm about as unsure as the OP on all of this, I'll open discussion to all of you: what do you think? Is this kind of PhilPapers information useful in any way above and beyond 'navel-gazing'? If so, how? Do you know of cases where it has been used (e.g. in hiring, etc.)? Should PhilPapers make the information public?

Moving/relocation tips for academics?

On Twitter, Alex Bryant (PhD student, McMaster) writes:

Early career academics: Presumably you have developed a kind of expertise related to moving (including problems common to grad students/academics, like moving books). What have you learned, what do you suggest, and what mistakes could you help others avoid?

Related: One way long-tenured senior people might be out of touch with the state of the profession is just how much of an impact frequent moves has on people who have to move from contract to contract, postdoc to postdoc, rather than picking up lifelong job out of school.

This is a good question that we've never discussed before, as in my experience moving between jobs can indeed have a serious impact on an academic's ability to get work done. The couple of times that I moved (first to UBC, then to Tampa), the summer that I moved was mostly a 'wash' where I wasn't able to get much research done. My experience was that there are just so many things to figure out and daily stressors having to do with it that it can be hard to focus.

Anyway, do any readers have any tips? Also, it might be worth hearing from readers on whether (and how), in their experience, senior academics may be out of touch here.

Dealing with undercitation in philosophy? (Guest-post by Ten-Herng Lai)

Ten-Herng Lai (Australian National University) writes in:

I understand that pretty much the same issue was discussed here around 2015, but I think it is important that we bring it up again. I believe that literature review and under-citation is a problem in academic philosophy. Here I can only provide some personal experience as a journal reviewer. It may be that I’m not being a very good reviewer. I’m open to this possibility, and if so, please simply point it out.

I am a very junior scholar, but was fortunate enough to publish a paper in a decent journal on an issue that proved to be quite topical. So I get these invitations to review, several of them. Last time I counted, there are at least 20+ papers published in print or online first on this topic since 2019. A good portion of papers I reviewed cites almost none of them, as if the issue was uncharted territory. Some papers have very good insight, but fail to engage with the literature at all. Some papers just reinvent the wheel. Occasionally there are some papers that make good proposals but would be much better if taken certain points others have made into consideration.

Here’s what I did as a reviewer. I would encourage them to at least say “Archer (2020) Bard (2018) Cleric (2019) Druid (Online First) have all suggested certain solutions, but mine is different and covers an ignored but important point.” Better is that they say why their point is better, or at least distinguish their own point from those made by others. Sometimes I suggest that they can simply cite and rephrase a “respond to objection” someone else already made, instead of writing a separate response to some objection that has already been responded to like 5 or 6 times in different papers. Some more particular points may be that the author(s)’s solution can be combined with someone else’s solution to become even better.

I hope what I did as a reviewer helped to improve the quality of those papers, even if they were not accepted in those particular journals. I sincerely believe that doing some literature review and actually engaging with some previous papers enhances the quality of papers. (And I admit sometimes I see some papers published that fail to do so, and are of very bad quality, e.g., proposing points that have been utterly knocked down by previous publications. I don’t know how they went past the reviewers in those journals...) I also believe that there seems to be some sort of disrespect going on when not engaging in previous publications enough. Probably it’s some sort of arrogance, believing that one has “discovered” something new, just like (though obviously less serious than) how Columbus “discovered” America and how Captain Cook “discovered” Australia.

I agree that this is a problem, and have heard other people say similar things. I also agree think that what Lai did here as a reviewer is right. But this raises an obvious question: what else can/should be done to address under-citation in philosophy? I have two ideas, and am curious what other readers think, including whether readers have other suggestions, as well.

How to list affiliation in a non-university job?

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

First, for some context, I recently accepted a job teaching philosophy (along with a few other subjects in the humanities) in a private high school.

Lately I've been considering submitting a few papers I've been working on to journals and conferences. In the process, however, I've been confronted with the question of what to list as my affiliation. Since finishing grad school, I've mostly been using "no affiliation" or "independent philosopher" for this kind of thing. Continuing to use that wouldn't exactly seem accurate now, since I'm now employed at a school. The only apparent alternative, I suppose, is using my new high school as an affiliation--but something about that makes me uneasy, too. Perhaps it's simply the fact that I've never seen anyone do this; to the extent that I can remember philosophers' listed affiliations, they've always been a college or university. Part of me wonders whether the very meaning that most people give to "affiliation" in this context restricts the word to institutions of higher education, such that listing a high school as one's affiliation would be considered a bit like listing, say, Costco (assuming one worked there), or a given elementary school, etc.

If I'm to be honest with myself, I suppose I also sense that there might be a certain stigma to listing a high school as one's affiliation--that others might sense that one isn't a "real" philosopher, that one's work isn't to be taken as seriously, etc. Perhaps that's what's ultimately making me feel uneasy (though arguably I shouldn't be bothered by others' thoughts in this way).

What I wanted to ask, then, was whether anyone has any thoughts on what I should list as my affiliation going forward.

This is an interesting question. My general sense (though it could be wrong) is that the prevailing convention is to list oneself as an 'independent scholar' in cases like this. But, even assuming this is right, whether this is a good convention is another story entirely--as the convention seems to presuppose that an affiliation is only worth listing in a journal if it is a university. Personally, I'd prefer to see 'non-traditional' affiliations (such as high schools, etc.) actually listed in cases like these--as I think it would be very interesting to know where such scholars work! But, on the other hand, I wonder whether (as the OP notes) it might work to the author's disadvantage. First, might journal editors discriminate against authors like the OP? Second, would journal readers? For example, would Einstein's 1905 paper on special relativity have gotten the attention it did if Einstein listed 'Swiss Patent Office' as his affiliation? Or would many readers have written it off as a work of an amateur? 

What do readers think? It might be great to hear, in particular, from journal editors and independent scholars. What is the prevailing convention here? Would it hurt a scholar like the OP to list their actual (e.g. high school) affiliation rather than merely listing themselves as an independent scholar? 

Social & academic initiatives for conversations regarding mental health?

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

There have been many posts about isolation, anxiety and mental health issues, and professional instability, all due to covid or not, and mostly between graduate students. Does anyone know of online social initiatives that are created to bring people together and have a conversation on this issues? Or of initiatives for people in academia who wish to just have a conversation with each other and might not have peers to do so at their uni?

This is an excellent and important query. In response to last week's thread on the question of whether it is a good idea or too risky to be open about one's mental health (particularly as an early-career scholar), Alex Bryant (PhD student, McMaster) posted a related thread on Twitter:

Thinking a lot this morning about a conversation I had with @biopoliticalph yesterday: It may be that there are many working philosophers who are in fact disabled are "in the closet," so to speak. But what changes will be made to make it viable for disabled philosophers to come out of the closet about disability (including those like bipolar)?

Salaries for TT & full time non-TT positions?

In our newest "how can we help you?" thread, a 3rd year PhD student asks:

What are salaries like for tenure track positions? Full time non-TT positions? It occurred to me that in many cases, people might get super lucky to land a TT job and then get stuck with a mid range salary with nowhere to go. This thought makes it much easier for me to want to leave sooner than later.

These are great questions. We actually had a thread on this way back in 2013, but a lot could have changed between then and now, so I think discussing things again could be really helpful. Two readers submitted the following replies:

This is a good source for data on faculty salaries. You can also check out other higher ed pay: https://www.higheredjobs.com/salary/ - Submitted by Casey

I've seen starting salaries (for assistant professors in philosophy) anywhere from in the low 40s in low cost of living areas, to 90k at relatively prestigious universities in high cost of living areas. I would guess that the average is around 65k. There is a lot of variation here—I would also guess that the standard deviation is high. - Submitted by Salaries

Given that the OP appears to not only be concerned with starting salaries, but also with the prospect for salary levels as one's career progresses (they're concerned about 'a mid range salary with nowhere to go'), I think it could be good to hear from readers at different job-levels (e.g. Lecturer, Assistant Prof, Associate Prof., Full Prof.) at different kinds of institutions (R1s, R2s, liberal arts colleges and universities, and community colleges). 

What salary did you start at, and what's your salary now? Readers should of course feel free to report anonymously, but I expect it would be helpful if, in addition to your salary and institution-type, you share some general details about location (e.g. major West-coast/East-coast city in the US, small college town in mid-America, etc.), as well as whether your institution is a private or public school. It would also be good to hear from readers about two things: your starting salary when you accepted your first position, and your salary now (at whatever academic level you are currently at). Finally, I think it would be great to hear from readers in different parts of the world (i.e. different countries and continents) so that we can get a picture of how salaries of academic philosophers compare across the world more broadly.

Why we ought to collaborate with philosophers across the globe: a reply to Peter Singer

There has been quite some pushback against Peter Singer, who recently said in an interview in the New Yorker that he was not particularly interested in working together with African philosophers.  Because many people do not have a subscription to The New Yorker, I put the relevant part of the interview below: 

Daniel Gross: "A lot of your works cite white male academics who, for lack of a better phrase, take up a lot of space in intellectual conversations... Because so much of your work is fundamentally about equity, I wonder if that is something that’s on your radar."

Peter Singer: "That’s the manner in which I was educated, I suppose, and which still is very influential in the ideas that I’m involved with. I’ve certainly worked with a lot of philosophers who are not male, but they have been white generally. I’ve got a project now about the issue of global population, with Alex Ezeh, a demographer of Nigerian origin at Drexel University. I worked with Pascal Kasimba when I was at Monash University, who is of African descent, on a project relating to in-vitro fertilization. I have also co-authored things with people of Asian descent, with Yew-Kwang Ng, for instance. But, I have to say, I want to work with people whose ideas are, you know, at a level of discussion that I’m interested in, and that I’m progressing. If you’re thinking of the work of Africans, for example, I don’t know the work of many of them that is really in the same sort of—I’m not quite sure how to put this—participating in the same discussion as the people you’ve just mentioned." 

This is not an uncommon sentiment, though it is rarely expressed in this explicit manner (but then, most academics aren't interviewed and aren't asked this question!).

The sentiment is that philosophers from the global south are not really worth engaging with, because their work would not be at the same level as the more prestigious, well-known (mostly white and male) philosophers from wealthy countries.

I want to argue here that this view is mistaken, and also that not engaging with philosophers and philosophies from the global south presents a missed opportunity. I write this in response to Singer, but I also aim this discussion to the wider readership here. (For example, if you think that you are not subject to these ideas and you're at an American or British department, try to think of e.g., some philosophers working in Ghana or South Africa, two African countries with a vibrant philosophical history and tradition. It may be hard to do so!).

Giving less effort for less pay?

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

I make less now than when I started my tenure track job, controlling for inflation. I think it's my right to give less effort on this basis. For example, if my employer is only paying me 90% of what it used to, for the same work, then I can give 90% of the effort I used to (the 90% is more than sufficient to cover the job requirements).

Some of you might disagree, but that's not my question. My question is instead: is it ok, morally, for me to lower my teaching effort? On the one hand, I care about teaching and the students did nothing wrong in this case. On the other hand, I don't want to let my employer leverage my conscience to get me to work uncompensated (giving the same effort for less pay).

I lean towards its being OK. After all, you get what you pay for, and the students are paying for an education from an institution that underpays its faculty. And my 90% is still better than whatever effort the dead wood at the institution is giving.

This is an interesting question, and I'm curious what readers think. One reader submitted the following response:

Your contractual obligations do not change. Depending where you work, you might find if you scale back you are in violation of your contract. You can be fired. Of course your pay should not shrink! I am not crazy. But, know the law. For example, public employees cannot strike in New York. And to act as you suggest you are going to act may in fact constitute a breach of contract.

This doesn't seem to me to be quite right, at least not given what the OP is describing. Professors are only contractually obligated to fulfill their assigned duties, which in this case is simply teach their classes (and do so competently). Contracts don't state that a person must 'give 100% effort' (or whatever). Rather, university handbooks standardly contain provisions for what comprises merit in teaching, which are normally used for tenure and promotion purposes--which is a different issue. So let's return to the OP's main question, which is whether it is moral for them to give less effort in response to receiving less pay.

Peer-review: keep, change, or abolish?

Darrell Rowbottom (Lingnan University) has drawn my attention to a new paper of his forthcoming in British Journal for Philosophy of Science in which he defends pre-publication peer-review against a recent argument by Heesen and Bright for abolishing the practice altogether. Readers may recall that over the years, I've tried to stake out a middle ground in this debate: arguing for substantial changes to peer-review, but not its abolition. In brief, my own position has been that philosophy should probably transition toward the publication model practiced in math and physics, wherein it is standard practice to:

1. Upload draft papers to the ArXiv (a preprint server similar to the PhilArchive).
2. Share, discuss, and critique unpublished drafts openly (a kind of crowdsourced peer-review that weeds out bad papers and improves good papers before journal submission).
3. Submit papers for peer-review at journals only after steps 1 and 2.

Although this model to a large extent undermines anonymous review (as people then know who has posted which papers to the ArXiv), my own sense is that the system works well and might help resolve a number of problems with our current peer-review system (including but not limited to: too many half-baked papers being submitted to journals, journal editors and referees being overwhelmed by submissions, etc.). So, then, we really have three options for peer-review in philosophy:

• Option 1 - keep the status quo: stick with the anonymized peer-review system we have.
• Option 2 - abolition: abolish pre-publication peer-review at journals altogether.  
• Option 3 - reform: keep peer-review at journals, but adopt a practice of posting papers on online servers first so that they can be openly vetted (e.g. evaluated, criticized, etc.) before journal submission.

Which option do readers most support, and why - especially, let's say, after reading the papers by Rowbottom, Heesen and Bright? For some additional food for thought, readers may want to check out this story shared over at Daily Nous  by Nathan Salmón (UC Santa Barbara).

Getting into philosophy with a science PhD?

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

I'm a Ph.D. student in science and about to get my Ph.D. degree this year (so I won't just quit). But I am also interested in some lifetime metaphysical and epistemological questions and want to contribute to them. (It sounds arrogant, but let's firstly assume I have the potential.)

However, my goal is basically impossible without strict philosophical training, which I don't have. As far as I consider, there are two possible ways.

1) I spend another 4-5 years on another graduate program in philosophy;
2) Collaborate with philosophers working on relevant topics and contribute with my scientific skills primarily and get trained.

For the first option, since I don't have any academic background in philosophy, I don't know how hard it is to get a position. And if I do so, I nearly give up my potential scientific career, which I would rather not.

For the second option, I have no idea how to find philosophers that want to work with scientists.

Here, I ask for your consideration of the two possibilities. How difficult are they? How can I manage them? Or any other possibility you could suggest?

And after all, how should I evaluate whether I have the potential to make a contribution?

Good questions! Prof L. submitted the following reply:

Circulating unpublished work?

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

I have a rather silly question. Every once in a while, I hear that a paper has become quite popular prior to publication: the manuscript has been circulated and the work has been extensively discussed. I get that a paper becoming so popular requires a nice combination of luck and prestige in addition to a very nice paper. However, from the popular-prior-to-publication phenomenon I infer that there must be a tradition, in some philosophy circles at least, to circulate papers rather widely before publication. It just occurred to me that no one has ever sent me an unpublished work that is not the sender's own. So my question is, what are the norms for circulating papers where you work? Under what circumstances have others sent you a third person's unpublished papers? Under what circumstances would you be willing to have yours circulated, and how would you go about that?

These are excellent questions. I think the basic norms for circulating unpublished work are rooted in the author's consent. For example, suppose an author has posted the paper on their website, or on PhilPapers, or on SSRN, and so on. In all of these cases, absent some kind of disclaimer by their (such as the author writing 'Do not circulate or cite' on the paper or on their website), then I think it's fine to circulate the piece. The author has, after all, put it out there for circulation. This is very different, I think, than circulating an unpublished piece the author has sent you directly (e.g. by email). In this kind of case, I would think it wrong to circulate the unpublished work without asking. Sure, maybe the author should tell you when they send it to you, 'Please don't circulate this', but of course sometimes people can forget things like this--and the right thing to do in these cases, I think, is to play it safe out of respect for the author. For my part, I don't think I have ever once been sent an unpublished paper by anyone other than the author themselves--and my sense is that, when papers are widely circulated, they tend to be circulated either by the author or else shared widely from the author's website (where, again, the author has chosen to share them publicly).

Anyway, this is just my sense of the relevant norms, and they seem to me to be common sense. But what do you all think?

 

Why Low-Income Students Leave Academic Philosophy (Guest post by Rosa Vince & Anna V. Klieber)

By Rosa Vince & Anna V. Klieber (Phd Candidates - University of Sheffield)

In this piece we explain some of the barriers to succeeding in academia for people with less money. This is not a theoretical work; we explain some things that students with more money may overlook, and problems that simply may not occur to staff members and institutions. That said, if you are currently, or have recently been, a postgraduate student with limited financial resources, then much of this will already be familiar.

When speaking of ‘low-income’ students in the following, we mean those who do not have a financial ‘safety net’, and who do not have well-off family members to lend/give them money if they do not independently have enough money to pay their fees, rent, or other bills that might come up. This is in contrast to students who do not need to worry if their rent and bills will be met throughout and immediately after their degree - although talking to most academic philosophers, you might get the impression that students who do need to worry about these things don't exist.

This essay does not cover the advantages of private, public, and grammar schools or the advantages of having parents with a university education, though these issues are all important and intertwined. Further, while here we will first and foremost discuss material financial barriers to access, safety, and success in academia, it is important to note that a person's financial and class positions are not independent of other social categories like race, disability, gender or age. This means that the financial barriers described in the following can be worsened, reinforced, or caused, by existing structures of racism, sexism, transphobia, ableism, xenophobia or ageism in, and outside, academia.

In what follows, we will discuss the following aspects: Time, Activities, Health, Teaching Work and Volunteering, Equality, Diversity and Inclusion Committees, and summarize with some notes on Emotional Energy. This list isn’t exhaustive, but rather provides a discussion of a few very common financial barriers that block access, safety, and success in academia. 

Does the APA cost too much?

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

I've just signed up for a completely virtual meeting of the APA, to the tune of $190. I am completely regretting the fact that I agreed to be involved in one of the meetings, and have promised myself to always say 'no' to any future requests to be involved in the APA meeting in any respect.

Why do organizations and people continue to submit and go to this expensive meeting? Hasn't it outlived its usefulness? There are so many organizations and meetings without exorbitant fees going on throughout the year. $190 for a completely virtual meeting is highway robbery.

So this is more a plea then a question. With all this talk of justice in the profession, we've allowed this organization to prey upon philosophers even while itself offering less and less of value. However much people like seeing their grad school buddies, it's not worth the ridiculous fees. And even if someone has a great expense account (I'm not one of those people) is this the best way to spend it? Can't we, as a profession, move away from this hotel-conference model? This model has outgrown its usefulness, and has always been a burden on those without large expense accounts or disposable income. Can we adopt more collaborative, diffuse, and equitable methods of networking and meeting? Any thoughts/ideas?

Another reader submitted the following response:

On the one hand I agree with you. I spent a lot of money to attend the APA, and present at one of the group meetings, and we did not even have equipment in the room (this was probably the last REAL meeting). It was very disappointing. It cost me a lot, as I was coming from far away. On the other hand, in principle, the APA serves a very important function. It represents the profession. And this is essential in the USA, where other disciplines have organizations representing them. Now, unfortunately, the organization is dominated by people from elite schools, so it does not represent the profession as it really is. That is another issue. But, as someone later in their career, you do want such an organization, whether you go to their conferences or not.

Here are some of my own quick thoughts.

How to prevent peer-review problems?

A while back at Daily Nous, there was a thread on 'journal horror stories', one of which involved a single journal 'misplacing' a large number of manuscripts, claiming the papers were sent out to referees when this never occurred. Although this is an extreme and isolated case, the DN horror stories thread suggests that authors often run into less serious problems. This coheres with my experience on social media, where I often run into posts where people say things like, 'My paper has been under review at journal X for Y months. Should I email the editor to find out what's going on?'. Oftentimes, people express some trepidation about emailing editors, as they don't want to negatively influence the outcome. They just want to know what's going on with the paper.

Given that these kinds of situations give rise to stress for authors and extra work for editors (reading and responding to emails), I wonder whether something could be done to make things better. So here's an idea that I had: why not just improve journal submission portals (e.g. Editorial Manager) to give more information? Here's what I have in mind. When I log in as a reviewer at many journals, the software typically tells me when my review is due, as well as how many other referees there are. Why couldn't the journal submission software give similar information to authors, as in something like this:

Referee 1: review competed on 4/5/2021.

Referee 2: review due on 4/10/2021.

Referee 3: review 1 month overdue.

This could, obviously, give authors precisely the kind of information they want about where their paper is in the review process. Also, sometimes when a journal is taking a long time (say, 8 months or longer), authors want to know whether they should keep the paper under review or withdraw it. Given that this decision could turn on the likelihood that the paper will be rejected, why couldn't the submission software give the author information on what the referee recommended, as in:

Referee 1: review competed on 4/5/2021 (recommendation reject).

Given that journals typically require two 'accept' verdict to accept a paper, knowing that one reviewer recommended rejecting the paper could be important information for authors to have (and it's worth noting, again, that when reviewers log in they often have access to this kind of information - so why shouldn't authors?). Finally, it seems to me that this kind of system might help improve review times at slow journals. Given that it would inform authors when reviews are well overdue, authors could contact journal editors specifically when there is an overdue review holding up the process (which, or so I understand, is one of the main reasons for delays in the review process). This could then lead editors to address tardy reviewers more promptly, etc.

Finally, it seems to me that other forms of information could also be included in submission portals, such as information about securing reviewers in the first place, as in:

Referee 1: review requested 4/5/2021, awaiting reply.

What do you all think? Do you think it would be better for authors and editors for journal submission software to include more information like this?

Journal submission embargoes?

In one of our recent "how can we help you?" threads, a reader writes:

Can someone explain to me why, for the past two years at least, Nous and PPR have not accepted submissions for about 8 months out of 12? I'm a bit new to things, and this seems like, well, a rare practice. Also, if I'm honest, I guess I find it a bit frustrating as a junior person. I totally understand that reviewers are people and all of that; but I honestly just don't see why those two journals, out of all of them, have implemented this seemingly eccentric policy.

Another reader submitted the following reply:

[Y]es there is a reason. These journals get so many submissions that at one point they close down so that an even larger backlog does not accumulate.´ It is one way to deal with the problem. I published in Nous, around the time these embargoes were first introduced. How does it feel to publish in Nous? Fine. But I work in a sub-field where the main general philosophy journals are not the key place to publish. If you work in M&E it is probably more important to try to publish in such journals.

For a bit more context, the OP and other interested readers might want to peruse David Velleman's 2017 guest post at Daily Nous, 'The Publication Emergency.' It is, I think, an unfortunate situation that two of the highest-ranked generalist philosophy journals have submission embargoes - and I can't help but wonder whether the embargoes might be a bit self-defeating, in that there are presumably legions of people who wait each year until October 1st to submit papers the moment the embargoes are lifted (thus deluging those journals with submissions). But presumably those journals would have vastly more submissions were it not for the embargoes, so I don't know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

Publishing philosophy without credentials?

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

I do not have an academic background in philosophy but nevertheless have ended up spending significant time working on a philosophy book for which has required vast amounts of research and reading. (I have worked with academics in the process to challenge my ideas & check I am not totally mad).

When published, I wonder if the academic audience will treat it as 'no-good' or not give it the time of day because it does not come from someone working in an institution. I am curious, is this likely or will it simply come to the quality of ideas?

This is a good question, and I am glad that someone asked! Allow me to share some thoughts before opening things for discussion.

How does 'networking' help?

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

I've been inspired by the discussion about ways to flourish in the profession as an introvert.

While many people have mentioned the importance of networking, I am wondering if people can share some concrete examples of the benefits from networking, especially for graduate students and junior faculty members.

I can see that networking could help a person find external members for their committee and have letters for the job market (grad student) or for promotion (junior faculty). I have a hard time seeing other benefits besides abstract things like knowing your name and knowing your work. For example, do people get invited to apply for some jobs or get invited to submit to a journal because of networking? Any other concrete examples?

These are great questions! I'd love to hear concrete examples not only from grad students and junior faculty, but also from senior faculty, including (for example) those who have served on search committees, edited books or special journal issues, etc. If you're a grad student or faculty member, do you know of any concrete examples of how 'networking' helped you? And, if you're a senior faculty member, do you know of concrete examples where it helped junior folk? 

Defending tenure at KU

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

I'm a grad student at KU's (University of Kansas) philosophy department. I'm not sure how widespread this news is, but I'd appreciate you guys sharing the following with your readers, if it meets the standards for content.

"The KU administration is moving forward with the optional KBOR (Kansas Board of Regents) Policy to suspend tenure protections here that would not only eject us from the AAU, it would threaten accreditation of all our programs and, in the process, significantly diminish the value of a KU degree. In the news, this issue is covered as professors upset at the prospect of losing our cushy jobs. It's not. There are already numerous ways to fire them and our salaries are part of the public record. We're speaking out in defense of KU's educational mission and its status as a leader amongst US universities. We're speaking out in defense of our students, who deserve to have the quality of their work reflected in the value of their diploma. Also, it'd be helpful if people would sign the petition. https://sites.google.com/view/kufacultydemands/solidarity-statement.

While the solidarity statement no longer appears to be available, I encourage readers to speak out in defense of tenure at KU in any way we reasonably can! More details are available here: 'The Fight for the University of Kansas' (Chronicle of Higher Ed).

Best practices for research support at SLACs?

In our December "how can we help you?" thread, Josh writes:

I would be very grateful to get some hive-mind wisdom on the topic of research policy at SLACs. I'm at a small, mission-driven university that is doing its best to take research seriously. We often "punch above our weight," as it were, but we don't have much in the way of clear policy that might offer needed (in my view) structural incentives for faculty research.

I'm wondering about "best practices" when it comes to such structural incentives, e.g., policies on course and/or administrative release for grant-holders, grant applicants, course buyouts, non-grant-holding researchers, sabbatical policies, etc. I'd be especially grateful for ideas from those at SLACs, but definitely all ideas welcome.

Great questions! I'm curious to hear from readers who work at SLACs both on what their university's policies are like, as well as what people think 'best practices' are. I think my university does some nice things to support research for full-time faculty. Although I may be forgetting some things (I don't know whether grant-holders can get course releases), I do know that we have the following:

1. Annual merit raises: for full-time faculty, which depend on teaching, research, and service performance, though one can choose to have research weighted up to 40% in one's annual score.
2. Internal grants: which are competitive, but which any full-time faculty can apply for annually.
3. Post pre-tenure review course releases: a one-time, one course offload that tenure-track faculty get after successfully passing their 3rd-year pre-tenure review.
4. Sabbaticals: which tenured faculty can apply for after 6 years, either for one semester at full pay or for one year at half-pay.
5. Travel funding: which one must apply for prior to every conference, but can enable one to travel to from between 1-3 conferences per year.

If you work at a SLAC, what are your university's research-related policies and incentives? And what do you think 'best practices' are?

An Inquiry about Writing One's Own Letters of Recommendation

I was recently reviewing Michael Huemer's arguments (from 2017) against the practice of soliciting letters of recommendation, and I recalled a phenomenon I learned about while in graduate school. Assuming these accounts were true, some faculty members in the profession are in the habit of making graduate students write their own letters of recommendation, which the faculty member then signs. (To be clear, no faculty members at my graduate program did this. These were accounts I heard from other early career members of the profession who I met at conferences or who visited my program as guest speakers.)

This practice, however common, has always struck me as problematic. First, it puts an even greater burden on graduate students in terms of job market preparation, and they are already going to commit hundreds of work hours to that task. Second, the faculty member is abdicating a professional responsibility that I think they're obligated to fulfill. Third, even if the faculty member reads the letter and signs off on it, it is unlikely that the ideas in the letter would be expressed in the same way and to the same degree as if the faculty member has written the letter themselves. Fourth, there will surely be cases where the faculty member will not read the letter carefully or will fail to raise criticisms of its content even when such criticisms would be appropriate, which means its content may not accurately reflect the faculty member's opinions.

However, it's been many years since I've heard any tales about this practice, and so far as I know, I have never worked with a faculty member who engaged in it. On that note, I want to ask the community two questions:

1. How common is this practice in 2020?
2. Is there some justification for doing this that I am unaware of?

Has being a philosopher met your expectations?

In celebration of World Philosophy Day, Daily Nous shared a thread today from way back in 2014 asking readers to share why they went into philosophy. The comments are a lot of fun to read, but they led me to wonder: has being a professional philosopher met their hopes or expectations, or not? I figured it could be informative to have a thread on this here at the Cocoon, as it might provide students who are now considering a career in philosophy some picture over whether such a career will be at all what they hope for or expect. I suppose I'll kick things off.

I went into philosophy for a couple of related reasons. When I was a teenager just starting college, I had no real passions. Yeah, there were things I was sort of into: baseball, music, poetry, English literature, and politics. But none of them were what I would call a real passion. I wasn't super motivated to put in the hard work to pursue any of the above. All that changed when I took my first philosophy class. Quite simply, I took to philosophy like a fish to water. I loved everything about it: reading it, writing it, thinking about it, the questions philosophers were concerned with, and so on. Second, I had an undergraduate mentor, Dan Dennett, who was extremely encouraging. In addition to being a fascinating and engaging person, he was really the first person in my life other than my parents who ever really gave me encouragement.

Anyway, I don't know quite what I hoped for or expected when entering philosophy. I guess I expected to love reading, thinking about and writing philosophy for a living, and that being a college professor would be gratifying (I always wanted to be the kind of mentor that Dan was for me). But, beyond that, I don't know what I expected. 

Has being a philosopher met my expectations? In two important ways, yes. I still love philosophy as much today as I did way back then at 17. I feel (and am) incredibly privileged to be able to think about and write on philosophical questions, I work on issues that I find important and meaningful, and from time to time teaching and mentoring is just as gratifying as I had hoped. Every now and then, I'll get an email from a student thanking me for how I affected their life, and in those moments it feels like I've done some real good for the world beyond myself. I also find conferences just wonderful: I love attending talks, learning about what other people are working on, presenting my own work, catching up with friends, and of course, debating philosophical arguments.

But, of course, a career in philosophy hasn't been all roses--not by a long shot. I never expected the academic job-market (which I spent seven years on) to be anything like the monumentally awful experience that it was (and I cannot overstate just how horrible of an experience it was). I also think it's a scandal that so many academic jobs are part-time, low-paying positions without benefits (though we've worked hard to change this at my university). I also never expected how brutal academic publishing would be: the long waits, near constant rejections (90+% rejection rates), and (from time to time) meanspirited comments of referees. While I still love philosophy tremendously, I really think one has to be a 'glutton for punishment', as it were, to have a career in the field. And that, I think, is sad. Oh, and grading is the worst. I also wasn't prepared, I think, for what I might call 'philosophical isolation.' I work in a small department whose faculty work in divergent areas, and our teaching and service loads are quite high. This might surprise some readers, but in over 11 years at my university, I think I can probably count the number of philosophical conversations I've had with colleagues on two hands. Nearly all of the philosophical conversation I have occurs with students or at conferences. We tried to put together a reading group of philosophers in the area a few years ago, and it worked well for a bit but sort of fell apart after a while. We’re just all so busy. And so generally  speaking, I do philosophy in isolation, and I really miss the kinds of philosophical conversations that I had all of the time in graduate school. 

Anyway, long story short: a career in philosophy both has and hasn't met the hopes and expectations I had when I initially set out pursuing it. It's been a far, far more difficult road than I ever expected. But I still love philosophy and teaching/mentoring students, and find it a meaningful life.

But this is just me. What about you?

Grappling with burnout (or worse)?

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

I haven't been able to get much work done in the last nine months on my research because of a problem that is new for me, and I wonder how typical it is for others in academics - emotional pain.

I'm an upper year PhD student who has their dissertation mostly complete. If I needed to, I (and my advisor) feel like I can wrap things up in a month. That has been the case for almost a year now. Also, I've been on the job 'market' since last year.

Every word I type about the thoughts I have on my area of research feels like a scab ripped from my mind. I feel relatively fine writing about anything else. Besides what I imagine are the typical anxiety about rejection and imposter syndrome, I'm feeling a lot of grief and sense of loss among other complicated stuff I cant put really well to words. I'm already not great at taking the time to dwell on writing material to polish things up. Now it's more than just an executive functioning/attention problem. Working on my research and material related to it in my job applications has become a sort of feeling management problem. It makes me wonder if I have a toxic relationship with academia, that this is something that will keep getting worse for me and I'm better off cutting ties with the profession, or whether its because of the context I'm in (covid and job searching despair), that I'm failing to see things objectively.

I've dealt with depression before and this feels different. It feels like grief and loss, less of an autonomous mood and more of a reaction to my world. Does this resonate with anyone here? Is this a sign I should take, that I'm 'burnt out' on philosophy? How does one successfully manage the emotional (instead of motivation) side of getting work done?

This post actually resonates with me a great deal, and I hope we can have a helpful and supportive discussion about the important issues it raises. Allow me to say a few brief things, and then invite readers to share their own experiences and any tips or advice they have for someone grappling with these kinds of issues.

On reading & engaging with others' work

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

I'm a grad student who is wishing that there was not so much pressure to publish in order to get jobs. I naively thought that grad school might be a time to just read things because they are interesting, and even (gasp!) take time off from writing altogether to focus on deepening one's understanding.

I acknowledge that sometimes reading widely and deeply does benefit one's own writing. At the same time, in my experience, many philosophers do quite well without being particularly well-read. Slightly more cynically, it seems that many philosophers can thrive as long as they read just enough to not look completely ignorant of what's come before.

My question is this: to some extent, is engaging with others' work best thought of as a duty to the profession? Even if there are not particular professional rewards, it seems like we might just owe it to each other and those who've come before to dedicate time to others' work.

I am very sympathetic with this reader's concerns. Back when I was in graduate school (2001-2008), publishing while in a graduate program seemed to be relatively rare. I only knew a few graduate students who published things, and I even recall it being something of a norm (at least in highly ranked programs) to encourage grad students not to publish. The general thought here was that it would be a mistake to 'publish before you're ready', and the point of graduate school--and the dissertation in particular--was to make you ready to publish. In other words, back then graduate school was fairly close to what this readers describes they 'naively thought' graduate school would be like. When did things change, and why?