The Philosophers' Cocoon

Publishing popular philosophy books (and a travel book during an international lockdown) - Guest Post by Emily Thomas

This is a guest post by Emily Thomas of the University of Durham.

I recently published a popular book, The Meaning of Travel: Philosophers Abroad. Written partly as a travelogue, it explores philosophical issues around travel, from the Age of Discovery to the present day. I learned a few things from writing it, and I hope describing them might be useful.

 

Why write a popular book?

Not as an easy route to career advancement 

Academic monographs aim at the highest levels of scholarship: diligent, rigorous world-leading research. Although popular monographs can evince a great deal of research and undergo peer review, I assume most do – perhaps even should - fall short of this highest level. The kind of precise, pernickety attention to detail required of the highest scholarship fits awkwardly with works which aim (at least partly) at making ideas accessible and engaging. If you can produce accessible, engaging and world-leading research, then congratulations - you can stop reading now. 

Academics write books for all kinds of reasons. To prove something, explain something, tell a story. Here’s a reason not to write a popular book: to land an academic job or promotion. At least, I believe this is true of countries with established ‘research excellence’ frameworks, such as the UK, Sweden, Norway, Netherlands, and Australia. In these contexts (and many others) what matters above all else is publications in leading peer-reviewed journals and academic presses. Universities are not motivated to hire or reward colleagues engaged in other kinds of publishing: popular books are neither ‘essential’ nor ‘desirable’ criteria for academic appointments or promotions.  

 
Philosophers might want to write popular monographs to facilitate public engagement or societal impact. The UK’s 2014 Research Excellence Framework saw case studies built around books by Clare Chambers, Marina Warner, and Robert Macfarlane. However, this involves much more than just writing a book. Publishing is a one-way communication between you and your readers, whereas public engagement or societal impact requires two-way communication. (On alternative ways to achieve impact as an early career scholar, see here and here). 

Public Philosophy for the Common Good

This is a guest post by Mike Austin (Professor and Coordinator of Philosophy & Religious Studies, Eastern Kentucky University):

I’ve always wanted to do something meaningful with my professional life (the lack of scare quotes around the term meaningful is intentional!). With all of the caveats and qualifications, being a professional philosopher has turned out to be an excellent choice for me and my family. It’s enabled me to spend my days doing things I love, at least mostly. It’s given me great freedom to pursue questions I’m interested in, as well as the flexibility as a parent and spouse that I’ve really valued over the years. I’m certainly fortunate that I received a tenure-track offer and have found a professional home for the past 15 years at Eastern Kentucky University.

Being a tenured full professor means I have less time for research than I had during the early years of my career. I have a 4/4 teaching load and teach one course every summer. Other responsibilities eat into research time as you progress in your career, at least at a teaching-focused institution. I’ve continued to make scholarship a priority. I’ve also made writing for a popular audience a priority for over 10 years now. I was able to begin doing public philosophy back in 2007, editing a book on running and philosophy. I contributed to several books in the popular philosophy genre, and edited or co-edited several more volumes on popular culture and philosophy. I also regularly write a blog at Psychology Today, Ethics for Everyone.

I think all sorts of philosophical writing has value, from the highest levels of scholarship to the trade publication or blog post aimed at a popular audience. Usually, my scholarly work is the foundation of my writing aimed at a popular audience.

I started doing public philosophy, and continue to do so, because I think philosophy has value for non-philosophers, if done in the right way. So many of the ideas we take for granted can be enlightening and even transformative for the general public. We can shed a lot of light, rather than merely increasing the heat, on a variety of significant or controversial issues.

Doing better for our graduate students, making a PhD in philosophy worth it

This story, by Rachel Williams, is simply entitled "A PhD in philosophy was not worth it".  The title reflects the contents well. The story's familiar, but that does not make it less sad:  Rachel Williams writes about the disillusionment, lost opportunities, low wages, and a profession that looks increasingly hostile and unattractive.  She lists the problems that plague the profession: the obsession with brilliance, the editorial buddy circles, publish or perish culture, the slim chances of getting a tenure track job out of grad school, or at all (after years of precarious employment), and the lack of support from peers or mentors. 

Suppose you make it in the profession. By 'make it', we will typically mean that someone is in their mid or late thirties by the time they land a tenure track job in a geographical area they will often not have chosen to live in, working on a 3/3 or even 4/4 course load, and earning a starting salary of anywhere between 49 and 76k (often the lower part of this range), which only slowly inches up over the years. While that is still a decent salary, you have to take into account the years of lower earnings and the risk in the market. 

What if you do not make it? Did you then just waste at least six years (at least, in the US) on graduate school that could have been spent better elsewhere? "You don’t really know what academic philosophy is really like before it’s too late." - Williams writes, regretting her lack of opportunities and lack of money in her retirement fund at age 32. 

The solution, some might argue, is to just have fewer PhDs in philosophy. But I'm not at all sure that is a good idea. If we restrict the number of PhDs, the barriers to entry to the profession will shift to earlier on in the process, and it will be more difficult for people without the cultural, economic and social capital (middle class, white, etc) to do a PhD in philosophy. Moreover, I think that a PhD in philosophy has value. I've interviewed people who went to grad school in philosophy who are successful writers of novels and have produced and co-written TV series,  as well as career coaches, statisticians, computer programmers, and  I was recently filmed for television series on science and religion by someone who studied (but did not complete) a Philosophy PhD. A Philosophy PhD is currently running for Member of the European Parliament (see here for an article in Dutch).  

I will be placement officer next year, so I'm thinking about ways to help support our grad students. Absolutely, if our graduate students see academia as their plan A, we should support them in that and help them to achieve this goal. We should be realistic about the range of jobs on offer (not every job is a job at a research-intensive, prestigious university; most aren't and that is fine) and we should help them to prepare and tailor their CV and materials for the places they want to land jobs at. 

But if our graduate students feel some hesitation at academia over time, it is important to recognize that and to support them in alternative career choices. Typically, in the humanities (though I am not aware of any empirical work on this and would like to hear about it), it seems to me people mostly start graduate school wanting to have an academic career. But over time, some grad students start doubting that teaching is for them, or that writing papers is for them, or that the combination of teaching and research really suits them. And then we should also support them in that. Maybe it is prudent to talk about non-academic placement in any case, just as a sensible plan B. 

Volunteering as a philosopher?

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

I would enjoy a post on "volunteering as a philosopher."

I am passionate about reducing climate change (for example), but I am not sure how to jump in and use my skills as a philosopher to advance this cause.

I could of course just volunteer "as a regular person", but I am curious if any philosophers have been able to link up with charitable or activist groups and use their skills as a philosopher specifically--kind of like a doctor or lawyer doing pro bono work.

If so, any stories or advice would be a helpful inspiration to me and maybe others!

This is a great query. In fact, it's one that I would afford to hear some good stories or advice about myself. My own experience 'volunteering as a philosopher' is pretty limited.

A.I. ethics piece at Medium

My first stab at public philosophy, "We're programming A.I. psychopaths - and how to avoid it", is now up at Medium. Hope you all find it interesting!