The Philosophers' Cocoon

Jorge Portilla's Fenomenología del relajo

Nick Riggle (University of San Diego) recently drew my attention to Mexican philosopher Jorge Portilla's work, Fenomenología del relajo, which has been translated into English with philosophical commentary by Carlos Alberto Sánchez (San José State University) in his 2012 book, The Suspension of Seriousness: On the Phenomenology of Jorge Portilla.

Although I have not had the opportunity to read Portilla's or Sánchez work yet (though I've now ordered the book), Riggle also drew my attention to a wonderful short commentary that I did have the chance to read: Francisco Gallegos' article, 'Seriousness, Irony, and Cultural Politics: A Defense of Jorge Portilla' (American Philosophical Association Newsletter on Hispanic/Latino Issues in Philosophy). 

I have to say that I found it an absolutely fascinating read that makes the case for how deep, original, and fruitful Portilla's thought is, and promised Nick that I would spread the word about it. So please do check it out!

Can good publications offset grad program rank?

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

On the topic of "tippy top" schools, how much can good publications offset coming from a lower ranked school on the job market? I'm set to defend in the fall and my department isn't particularly notable. I have however been fortunate enough to get two publications in top tier journals. Should I keep aiming to publish at high ranked journals or I am better off submitting to mid-level journals where I may be more likely to accumulate publications?

I'd be very curious to hear what readers think, particularly those who have been involved in hiring. For my part, I have to sadly confess--as I have before--that I am skeptical that publishing in the highest ranked journals is a very good job-market strategy for candidates coming out of lower-ranked programs. Allow me to explain why.

Open thread for creating Zoom writing-groups

Sam Duncan (Tidewater Community College) writes in:

Since using Zoom so much recently I've been thinking more and more about the possibility of trying to put together some kind of Zoom group with other philosophers to read and give comments on one another's papers....I'm in a super small department and really only have one or two people I might ask for feedback on my own work so there's a self-interest component here. But more than that I thought it might be a good way to build more of a community and read some other people's work. Honestly, at the moment I don't really have anything I'm working on that's too far along so I'm more interested in reading other people's work at the moment. I thought it might make sense to make these deliberately broad and eclectic too. That might do something to get people in sub-disciplines talking to each other and it would be a real help with people trying to craft papers to get past the first round at generalist journals. Would you be willing to put a call out for something like this on the Cocoon? I'm willing to organize a group and use my college's Zoom account to host, though I'm thinking that if it got much larger than five or six people it might get unwieldy so depending on the response it might make sense to do more than one.  Anyway just a thought I've been having.

I think this is a wonderful idea. I checked with Sam, and he's happy to have anyone interested in joining such a group email him (sld24688@email.vccs.edu). However, given that as he notes such a group could balloon to an unwieldy size, we thought it could be cool to also open up this thread for readers to try to create Zoom groups of their own as well. So please, if you're interested in creating or joining a Zoom group to trade papers (or even just do a reading group), feel free to comment below with any relevant details (such as your area of focus, contact info, etc.). You can also feel free to talk back and forth in the comments section as well to arrange things!

Co-author solicitation thread

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

Any philosopher here interested in co-authoring papers in political philosophy? Could we have a fixed thread in which people interested in this kind of opportunity could 'advertise' their work in progress or projects?

Co-author responded:

I would discourage people from just collaborating with scholars they have not had contact with before. Co-authoring is a very intimate relationship. Even though I have published with people I have never met in person, I established a relationship of sorts - building trust with them - before we embarked on a collaborative project.

I'm not sure why 'co-author' thinks the fact that co-authoring involves a relationship of trust is a reason not to run a thread like this. The way I see it, there are already too many barriers to co-authoring in philosophy: principally, the barrier that not that many people seem to do it, but also the barrier that a lot of people may not be in a very good position to develop the kinds of pre-existing relationships that 'co-author' alludes to here. For example, people who work in very small, non-prestigious departments may have difficulties networking or finding co-authors. So, I see no clear reason not to run a thread of the sort Charles requested. It may not work work very well (who knows!), but no one will ever know if we don't try. Personally, I've sometimes had paper ideas that I thought might be good ones, which I thought a co-author might be able to help with, but which I gave up on because I didn't know anyone who I thought might be good to approach as a co-author. This sort of thing seems to me unfortunate, and probably a situation that others face. So, I say, why not give a thread like the one Charles asked for a go? It might give people an opportunity to seek out and create the kinds of productive relationships 'co-author' mentioned.

In any case, I hereby open this thread for individuals interested in co-authoring to put feelers out. Please feel free to broadly describe your area of focus or the kind of philosophical issue you're working on, and whatever information about yourself you think may be helpful. I would caution commenters against being too open with what you're working on, as you never know whether there may be bad actors out there looking to poach others' ideas. However, if you're just vague enough, perhaps a thread like this may be helpful!

Writing advice to those new to publishing?

A reader writes in:

I'm new to the publishing side of the profession. I do have projects I'm working on. What I can tell I haven't developed is a sense of a reliable writing process.  

Do you (or other philosophers) get an idea and generally just start drafting the idea right away? Or do you spend time reading relevant litt first?

My worries are that I furiously write two pages worth of notes to get an idea down just to go read the literature to find out I've either been scooped (someone's already worked on that) or that it's actually just a terrible idea, and it feels like wasted time (and inspiration) to have banged out even the 2-3 pages of notes. So my temptation is to read. But then the reading feels unending. When did I read enough to feel justified that I can start writing this up?  

My advisor in grad school was and is a prolific writer. So I can't imagine that [they're] poring over a lot of articles before [they] just start throwing ideas on the page. But I'm also guessing [they're] not representative either since [their] output volume is a lot higher than anyone else in my old department. I'm trying to get a sense of reasonable expectations (averages maybe?) about how the process should go.

This is a great query, and I'm curious to hear what other readers think. However, here are some of my own quick reactions.

Self-referencing and anonymized review

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

There's about six published analyses of concept X, one of them by me. I want to write a paper saying something like the following: "Everyone agrees that Y is a case of X. But all these conceptual analyses except mine fail to capture that fact. So mine's the best."

(There's more to the paper than this, but this is the part that raises some problems for me).

My question is, what would it look like to remove identifying references from such a paper? Should I cite my paper on the concept of X, but call it [Removed for anonymous review], or should I refer to myself in the third person?

The former is what I feel pulled to do, since that's what I normally do. But I guess why I'm confused is that in all my other cases of self-citation, the citation was pretty offhand and I said so little about the paper that it would be very difficult to know which paper I was actually talking about. But that won't be the case here, and there would be pages and pages of, "As [Redacted] has argued...", "[Redacted]'s view would predict that ...", and so on.

This is a great query. As a lot of my own research builds on previous things I've published, this is an issue that I struggled with for a long while, and I found out the hard way the best way to go about it. In brief, the general consensus on this seems to be: don't use '[Redacted]'; instead, cite yourself in the third-person. I say this is the general consensus for two reasons: 

1. I've been a part of several social media threads where this was the dominant answer.
2. I was called out by referees, and seemingly had papers rejected, for using the '[redacted]' approach.

Why do people oppose the latter approach? Two pretty good reasons were given: (A) the '[redacted]' approach openly signals that the author of the paper has already published, conveying to a reviewer that they may already be a recognized figure in the field, and (B) it can be pretty easy to determine who the author is likely to be, especially if (as is the case in the OP) the author is the sole person who defended a particular account, or otherwise one of few authors who has. Both (A) and (B) seem problematic, as they can induce reviewer biases that anonymized review is designed to preclude or mitigate. In contrast, citing yourself in the third-person leaves it a mystery whether you are the person who defended the view in question. Sure, the reviewer might wonder whether you are them--but there's no way for them to really know, whereas '[redacted]' is a clear signal that indeed you are the person who published the previous work.

Anyway, this is my take. What do you all think, particularly those of you who serve as journal reviewers or editors?

Blogging in times of COVID-19

By Gottfried Schweiger (University of Salzburg)

At the moment most of us are sitting at home and are observers of events that are radically changing our lives and for which the outcome is open. The universities are closed and what remains for philosophers is online teaching, writing papers and books. As long as there are no childcare obligations that make all professional activities much more difficult and tedious, if not completely impossible, one might think that the COVID 19 pandemic does not change much for philosophers. Yes, there are no more conferences and jetting from one talk to another is no longer possible. Also the change to online teaching is challenging, but is possible in philosophy in principle, unlike laboratory-based teaching. My impression from my own experience and conversations with colleagues is that productivity is decreasing. On the one hand it is often not so quiet at home, on the other hand the overall situation is stressful, exhausting, even frightening for some. The COVID-19 isolation at home is not a nice writing retreat for most people. This can become a problem especially for early-career colleagues who depend on publications for job applications.

But since we are all thinking about the current situation and what is probably still to come, it is a chance for philosophy and especially for philosophical blogging. Many philosophical questions arise: Allocation of scarce resources, the weighing of different goods (health vs. economic losses), the legitimation of far-reaching state measures and surveillance. At least three debates are now needed: First, a public debate in which all sciences with their different expertise should participate. Secondly, internal debates within the discipline, including a debate in philosophy on the above questions. Thirdly, a debate on the role of philosophy in interdisciplinary and public debate and what role philosophy can play for the public right now. The COVID-19 pandemic has an existential dimension, which is also reflected in all kinds of practical advice on how to deal with it and reflections on the changes in our everyday lives. Questions about the meaning of life and one's own vulnerability now arise for many. This should also be a field for philosophy.

Dealing with post-publication anxiety

An early-career reader writes in:

I’ve been wondering how one deals with post-publication anxiety. After my first publication, I felt a great deal of anxiety and dread: I couldn’t bear looking at my paper (knowing all the changes I wish I would have made) and it was easy for me to think that my paper was just bad, that it somehow slipped through the cracks of the peer-review process. I feared the paper would eventually get read and word would spread about how lame the paper was and that my career would tank before it even got started. (To be sure, this certainly has happened to people, so why couldn’t it happen to me?!)

 

Do most people feel this way after publishing for the first time? Do people still feel this way after their nth-publication? How do you deal with it? What do you tell yourself?

 

This is a great query, and I'm very curious to hear how readers answer!

 

I have a bunch of thoughts about this, as I have particular attitudes (indeed, a bit of a philosophy) about publishing. I don't pretend that my philosophy here is the right or best one (even in my own case). I simply mean to report how I approach things and why (okay, to be fair, I do offer advice below, but I am well aware it may not be right!).

Tips for academics with children?

In our newest "how can we help you?" thread, 'Don't regret my kids but this is hard' writes:

I'm a mom of young kids on the TT who is seriously struggling, particularly with producing research that is up to par while coping with time, energy, mental fitness, sleep, health, and money issues caused by pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting. Any and all advice is welcome—financial, related to time management, daycare, or otherwise. Moms—or dads—how did you make it through? Is this possible?

These are really important questions for obvious reasons, so I hope readers out there with children chime in with their perspective and/or tips! Unfortunately, I must confess that I cannot add much here. Me and my spouse (who is also an academic) have put off having children for years for these very reasons. Given our workloads, neither of us can quite fathom how we could do everything we need to do with children. At the same time, I have colleagues with children who have pulled it off somehow, so I have some grounds for believing it's possible (albeit very difficult, or so I've heard). So, then, anyone else out there have any insight that might help "Don't regret" and other academics struggling with similar issues?

Who reads all that?

A reader writes in:

Has the Cocoon ever run a post asking philosophers to weigh-in on how many of the works in their impressively lengthy reference list they've actually read, start to finish? Thought maybe it'd be good for some of us to hear. 

As a graduate student searching for that first journal pub I often find having to show that you know the right stuff by referencing it pretty paralyzing, because there is so much stuff. And it always seems to me that you can't just reference it, but you should show you know it, to some extent. But then I find myself doubting that this person whose paper I am reading who cites 48 articles has really read them all. And yet, they weren't sniffed out as a fraud. So, what gives? Of course this is related to an issue that's been discussed here when it comes to writing. Namely, do not feel like you have to read everything, and certainly do not read too much first, since that brings on intellectual paralysis. But that's not really what I'm speaking to. Eventually, you do have to get the relevant literature in there. And so the question is, who among us is doing all that reading, and are we fools if we actually only cite what we've read front to back?

Good question, and I'm curious to hear how everyone answers. My own answer, in brief, is that I give things I cite the level of attention they require for the purposes they play in whatever project I include them in. In some cases, this requires very close multiple readings. For example, if I am going to criticize a particular position or author, then of course I need to read their work very carefully and do my best to get all of the details right. Other times, however, I may simply need to skim an entire reading. A case where this occurs might be one where I want to make sure I am not simply giving the same argument as someone else (I might not need to read the entire paper super carefully in order to figure that much out, and hence cite and discuss relevant differences in a footnote). Finally, in some cases, I may only need to read some (but not all) of a paper in order to know enough about the paper to be comfortable citing it. This is sometimes the case for 'literature review' sections of a paper, where I need to recognize the kinds of positions that have been defended by others in the literature. In some cases like these--where the point of citing the relevant sources is to simply 'set the scene' for the paper at hand--one needn't read the entire work to know enough about it to cite it as representing a particular position in the literature (as an example: I doubt very many people have read all of both volumes of Parfit's On What Matters--but, for all that, many of his most distinctive positions are pretty well-known by now).

Although I suspect there may be a few sticklers out there who think that every source one cites should be given close, careful, and complete readings, I'd be surprised if something like this isn't how most people do things. As with most things, there are tradeoffs one has to choose between. If, on the one hand, one insists upon reading from beginning to end every source one cites, then (A) it could be hard to ever get any writing done, or alternatively (B) one may be forced by time constraints to read and cite fewer things (leading, potentially, to under-citation: a common scholarly problem, in my experience). If, on the other hand, one decides how much to dive into readings before citing them, then it is always possible that one will make mistakes in representing the works cited (another problem). The reality, I suspect, is that most of us are probably continually torn between both of these options, reading as much as we can (as completely as we can) relative to the time and other professional constraints we face--and that the kinds of problems each approach results in are best avoided by a division of labor (authors doing their best, outside readers and journal referees calling out errors, etc.) 

But these are just my thoughts. What do the rest of you do and/or think?

Mehta's teaching (and research) resources

Neil Mehta (Yale-NUS) writes in:

I've recently put together a revised set of handouts for teaching philosophy, including handouts on understanding evidence, using various argument forms, developing objections, and being precise. I wonder if you'd be willing to post a link to this on Phil. Cocoon:

http://www.profneilmehta.com/resources.html

Mehta also has a helpful writing guide for professional philosophers on the page, as well. Many thanks to Neil for drawing my attention to them. I hope some readers find them helpful!

Are translations valued?

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

Could we have a thread about publishing translations of philosophical texts? Is this kind of work recognized by the profession? Or should I rather publish "original" work?

'b' replied:

If you have not yet got a TT job, I would not recommend translations. But if you do have a TT job, and you are at the right sort of place, they will count for something. Clearly with a good academic commentary published along side a translation, you can make a worthy contribution.

This sounds right to me. My sense is that job-candidates in particular (and TT but untenured faculty to a lesser extent) should primarily focus on publishing original work, staying away from things like translations or editing books. While these things are valuable, my sense is that original research counts far more for securing tenure-track employment and tenure than editing books or translations.

But this is just my sense. What is yours? 

Readings in Classical Korean Philosophy?

Sergio Gallegos (John Jay College) writes in:

I am writing briefly to ask for some assistance that you or some of the Cocoon's readers might be able hopefully to provide: a brilliant undergraduate student of mine has requested to an independent study with for next semester, and she would like to do research on classic Korean philosophy (she is particularly interested in Neo-Confucian authors of the Joseon period). Since this a little beyond my area of expertise, I am writing to please request some assistance in getting some suggestions in terms of authors, major works and, hopefully, some secondary literature in English too.

Great query - I've just begun learning a little about the history of Korean philosophy myself, and think it would be very beneficial (both to Sergio and his student, but also to the Cocoon's readers!) to solicit some good sources! Anyone with background in Korean philosophy have any helpful suggestions?

Timmerman's philosophy-writing advice

Travis Timmerman (Seton Hall) shared the following helpful writing advice on facebook recently, and consented to me sharing it  for discussion here. Timmerman's original post is public, and he wanted me to note that he accepted some additions and qualifications. 

I am supervising an undergraduate student's thesis and this student is very advanced philosophically and a truly excellent writer. I am giving him advice on his thesis, and on how to write for publication. He started to fall into the trap of trying to read literally everything in the literature before he put a pen to paper (so to speak).

Here is my first stab at step-by-step advice about how to approach writing a paper. Comments and suggestions for improvement are welcome! I am curious to see what my philosophy friends think, should you wish to share.

-------------------------------------------------------

Don't try to read everything in an area of philosophy before you start writing. If you do that, you will never start writing, or you will significantly and unnecessarily delay your writing. Rather, you should do some variation of the following that you find works best for you.

(1) Jot down your initial ideas and save them.

(2) Start combing through the literature, working from, or creating, a bibliography. (See if there is a bibliography in PhilPapers.)

(3) Look at the papers and abstracts to make sure your exact idea hasn't already been defended in the literature. If your exact idea has, you've been scooped. Move on to another idea, or something new related to this idea, or another project entirely. If not, continue to step (4).

(4) Read what seem to be the seminal articles in the literature.

(5) Read the articles that seem most relevant to the specific question you are focusing on, and not everything in the subfield.

(6) With (1) and your knowledge of the literature, write an outline.

(7) Write a draft of the paper.

(8) With a complete, semi-polished draft, see if you can get a few philosophers who are experts in the literature to read it, and a philosopher or two who knows nothing about the literature to read it.

Ask the expert(s) to give you critical comments, particularly ones that may highlight any misunderstanding of the positions discussed, potential oversights of articles that need to be cited, and the viability of your argument.

Ask the non-expert to give you comments, particularly ones that may highlight a lack of clarity in your argument, discussion of the positions, and so on. Without having read any of the literature themselves, they should be able to read your paper and understand literally every sentence in it. That's the ideal anyway.

(9) Revise in light of their good comments.

Follow something like steps (1)-(9), and repeat.

I generally think this is very good advice. But I'm curious whether everyone agrees with it, and whether people have alternative strategies to share. Me? Like some other people on Timmerman's facebook thread, I've never written a paper (or book) outline in my life! I just write, working things out on paper. I also often go straight from Timmerman's step 1 (having an idea) to step 3 (checking on philpapers and elsewhere to see whether anyone has defended the idea in print), as I don't see any reason to waste time putting together a bibliography if I've already been scooped! Then, if nothing like the view I want to defend has been defended, I may read just a couple of seminal articles (step 4) before proceeding straight to step 7 (drafting the paper). Indeed, oftentimes I'll only give a good variety of other potentially relevant articles in the literature a read (step 5) after writing a full draft, so that I can cite the literature well and address alternative views, objections, and so on. Let me explain why.

I don't remember exactly where I came across it, but a long time ago I heard a senior member of the profession say that immersing oneself in a literature before developing your own ideas in detail can be stultifying, encouraging you to see an entire philosophical problem as others have seen it, whereas it can be really important to try to 'see the problem anew.' Ever since hearing this, I've always thought there is something important to it. First, earlier in my career (i.e. in grad school), I often felt 'boxed in' by the contours of how problems were already understood in a given literature--as though I had to begin with the problem where others had already left off (which I think in retrospect sometimes led me to preemptively reject lines of argument that I now consider to be good ones). Second, sometimes when I dive deeply into a given literature even now, I find myself surprised by the contours of the debate, disagreeing with the dominant dialectic.

Consequently, I'm often inclined to develop ideas and write up rough drafts of things before Timmerman's step 5 (reading relevant articles in the literature). To clarify, I don't mean to say here that one should avoid what other people have written. The issue for me rather is when to dive into 'relevant articles' in the literature. I sometimes do this as Step 5, but I think just as often I do it between steps 7 and 8 (i.e. after writing a full rough draft but before polishing it into something I would want to send to anyone), the aim again being to "get outside of the literature" and think about a philosophical problem, developing an argument in detail before even seeing what other people have had to say about it. Finally, I'll be honest here in saying that this approach can be a 'double-edged sword.' In particular, it can result in "wasted time", as when you spend a lot of time developing something only to later come to the conclusion (after drafting it up and reading the literature) that the argument has problems one didn't foresee. Nevertheless, compared to how 'boxed in' I often felt as a graduate student, I've often found the method to be helpful.

Anyway, I'm curious whether other people do this too, and for similar reasons. I'm also curious whether other people deviate from Timmerman's advice in ways they find helpful, and if so, why!

Tips for editing books

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

I’d love a post for both those editing books, special issues of journals, etc. and for those who get asked to contribute about what kind of information should be communicated to contributors and/or what questions contributors should get answered before they commit. I’ve seen wildly different levels of information communicated. Some initial thoughts of things that should be communicated before commitment: word count, what kind of review process will happen (I.e. will it be peer reviewed? Will the editor just look at it? Does it need to be blinded? If it is for a journal special issue, is the review process the same as the standard review process?), how much editorial advice one should expect to get, what the expected publication date is (though of course take this with a major grain of salt), an abstract or infgormation about the theme (as opposed to e.g. just a title for the collection), what kinds of subfields contributors will be drawn from, etc.

I've never edited a book myself, but I have contributed to edited volumes as an author and am curious what people think. What are authors owed in terms of up-front communication? One thing that I think may be relevant is an expected timeframe for publication. I've heard a few horror stories about people who contributed papers to volumes only to be left hanging for many years without any clear picture of if or when the volume would actually come out. Another thing I think may be relevant is whether the volume will be reviewed after publication. I know of cases of edited volumes that have come out (in some cases we very good presses) that, for one reason or another, never received a single review, either in a journal, NDPR, etc. I can imagine it being very frustrating to put hard work into a piece, only to see the book get no attention at all. How much control / responsibility do volume editors have for this? I don't know - but it does seem to me to be something that authors should be informed about heading in (if possible, of course).

But these are just my thoughts. What are yours? What should a good book editor communicate to contributors, and at what stage?

Anonymizing when self-citing

In our most recent "how can we help you?" thread, anon postdoc writes:

I am working on a paper that relies in a couple of paragraph on an argument from a previous paper, already published. I was wondering how best to do this in a way that complies with blind-review. Some possibilities I am considering:

a. Cite myself as though it were another person.

b. Give a footnote and write '[deleted for blind review]' where the reference would go. (However, I have been told before, when doing this, that it is not sufficiently compliant with blind-review. Wish that my views were that famous!)

c. Appeal to some other argument in the literature that raises a similar concern, and give that prominence instead of my view. Then change this if the article gets accepted. (This could be used in combination of a or b).

This is a great query. I struggled with this very issue for a long time because I didn't know what the norms are. After seeing this discussed on social media, my sense is that the dominant norm is (a): citing yourself in the third-person, as though you are not the author. I am skeptical about whether this actually tends to work in terms of successfully anonymizing a piece--as my sense is that referees can probably still infer it's probably you a good proportion of the time (which I suspect may advantage prestigious, well-known authors and disadvantage lesser-known, less prestigious authors)--but still, my sense is that (a) is the norm.

How to start with a big project that causes stress

This is a guest post by Rebecca Kukla, Professor of Philosophy at Georgetown University

I have severe anxiety disorder that often incapacitates me. Often, my anxiety builds up around particular writing projects and professional tasks, for whatever reason. At the same time, while I often finish things much later than I planned or than I am supposed to, I have a pretty excellent track record of getting things done and being professionally productive. I want to share with you my actual magic trick for dealing with big projects that cause stress. I mean this trick to be taken very seriously and literally. There is nothing facetious about this post. I know many of us struggle with anxiety around unapproachable projects, and I am just sharing, as someone with intense anxiety who is pretty good at getting stuff done in the end.

My trick is to schedule a day - seriously, a whole work day - just for opening the file for the project. You are not even allowed to work on the file or look at it in detail that day. You just open it, maybe skim it at most. You are allowed to combine files if your stuff for this project has gotten fragmented, so it’s all in one file, but you aren't allowed to think hard about it or work on it in any way. If it's an incredibly stressful project, schedule two days for this. That’s one day to fail at it because of anxiety, and a second day to open it, or one day to open it, and then a special reward of a day off, because you met your goal and it's time to treat yo self. Once you do this, guess what? You already started successfully working on the thing! The next day that you work on it will be so much less stressful.

Getting contracts for edited volumes?

In our most recent "how can we help you?" thread, junior anon writes:

The blog has talked extensively about how to write and achieve a contract for a monograph. I wanted to know what the process is like for getting a contract for a volume. How does one start the process? Presumably one cannot have all the papers ready beforehand. Does one simply pitch the idea to a press (e.g. Cambridge), and depending on your expertise in the field they may bite? Does one have an introduction ready?

I'm probably not the best person to ask here, as I've only had papers in edited volumes, never proposed one. However, my experience as a contributor has given me a little bit of insight into the process. My sense is that individuals proposing an edited volume need at least three things:

1. A compelling introduction/overview of the proposed volume.
2. A list of contributors, including some established, well-known researchers.
3. A complete compilation of paper titles and abstracts from each contributor.

Then, of course, one has to put together a full proposal, based on the proposal forms that presses typically have on their websites (which require proposals to specify an intended audience, competing works, and many other things). Does this sound about right to people? It would be great to hear from people who have actually secured contracts for and published edited volumes. What does one need to do in order to put together and submit a good proposal?

Writing and Publishing at Teaching-Heavy Institutions

In today’s post, I wanted to take a look at research at teaching-heavy institutions. Before moving forward, I wanted to explain my motivation in writing this. First, as more and more job seekers seem to be taking an interest in colleges with heavy teaching loads, including two-year institutions, I thought hearing the views of someone at a heavily teaching-focused institution might be of some value. I also hoped to hear from others who teach at such colleges about their own experiences and views on writing.

I will organize this post around several questions that have arisen in discussions with other faculty at similar institutions or others who are seeking employment at these sorts of institutions.

First, a word on what I mean by teaching-heavy schools. I have in mind schools that both have a heavy teaching load (let's say, 4-4 or higher) and also see themselves (as reflected in tenure requirements, contract specifications, and culture) as concerned solely or almost solely with non-research requirements. If we think of colleges as falling along a spectrum, my own institution is firmly toward the teaching side. It transitioned from a 2-year institution to one offering 4-year degrees about a decade ago, but the requirements for faculty and the cultural norms have remained the same. The load is 5-5-2 (2 in the summer) and the tenure process involves significant scholarship of teaching and learning. (We must attend many pedagogy seminars and workshops, and we must submit about 300 pages of research examining elements of our teaching, but there is no push for anyone to publish any of it.) There are no research requirements for tenure or in our contracts other than the pedagogical writing we need to do for the tenure process. I know of other colleges with 4-4 loads that also require little or no research and involve lots of interaction with students outside of the classroom. I think of these as teaching-heavy as well.

What are the downsides for writing in this environment?

There are a few, I think. First, there is no pressure to publish, and for many of us (myself included) it is easy for writing to get pushed onto the back burner if there is no pressure. Second, it can be difficult to find others in our institutions who wish to be actively engaged in research. This can make those of us who wish to write feel a bit alone. Third, we tend to have smaller departments, and so have less opportunities for the sort of engaged philosophical discussion that can inspire writing projects. Fourth, at some of these institutions (certainly at mine), there is almost no opportunity to teach courses related to our research interests.

To promote one’s work, or not?

Updated: 2:50pm, 6/4/2019

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

Should I be trying to get people to notice my papers in some way other than just publishing and putting them out there? Cold emailing relevant interlocutors, posting about them in a public Facebook post, something like that?

I think these are great questions, one's I've wondered about on a number of occasions given the visibility the Cocoon provides. Here, in brief, are the conclusions I've come to: some people may look down on promoting one's work - but I think there is nothing to be ashamed of in doing it, and it probably benefits the profession and individuals who do it, at least on balance. Let me explain why.

Query on note-taking

A reader writes in:

What is the best way to develop a philosophy research journal, or commonplace book? I often find myself pulling from my annotated copies of peer-reviewed philosophy articles when I write. I would rather be drawing from notes of some kind, and verifying my citations in the final stages of my writing process. Unfortunately, when I try to develop a note-taking system for research purposes (for example, the twentieth-century 3-by-5 index card system for research papers) I become wildly inefficient. Should I just stick with my note-taking system of choice until I become efficient? Or should I be approaching this in a different way? Should I just continue researching without systematic note-taking? Is systematic note-taking a waste of time, contra the venerable Kate Turabian?

I don't know how other people would answer these questions, but for my part I don't take many notes. Instead, I have a carefully organized set of folders in my Google Drive where I catalog journal articles I've read, as well as piles of books on or next to my desk or on a bookshelf that I have read. Like this reader, I simply annotate what I've read: I scribble brief notes in book pages as I read, fold page-corners to remember where important things are, and jot brief notes in e-copies of journal articles. Then, when I draft new work (e.g. articles or books), I have a running memory of important things I know I've read, including a fair idea of where I read them. Then, as I write, I'll track down the relevant article in my Google Drive or fish the relevant book out of the pile next to my desk (or on my bookshelf), re-read relevant passages and my annotations. I think this method requires a pretty good memory--so I imagine taking detailed notes might work better for some people. Finally, on that note, sometimes I do jot down brief ideas in the 'notes' app in my iPhone, which I find helpful for remembering ideas I've had that might slip my mind later.

Anyway, that's what I do, and I guess I'd suggest to the reader if the annotating method works fairly well for them, they might as well stick to it. But that's just my offhand guess. What do you all do? Any advice for this reader?

Writing philosophy papers – some reflections, tips and tricks (J. Adam Carter)

By J. Adam Carter (University of Glasgow)

It will be hard to follow up Neil Levy’s post in this series - he’s published over 200 articles! If my own remarks diverge from his, reasonable principles of epistemic deference suggest you should go with what he says rather than me! In what follows, I’ll give an overview of some of the things that work for me. I don’t mean to suggest you should do all, or even any, of these things. But if you run up against a wall and want to try something different, maybe some of this will be of use.

In no particular order, here are some things that, for better or worse, I both (i) actually do and (ii) am under the impression are pretty helpful.

Keep a Paper Ideas List

Ideas for new papers often strike unexpectedly (in fact, this is something I’ve published about, through the lens of virtue epistemology, here). The fact that new ideas can strike unexpectedly is entirely to be expected: the literature on the psychology of creativity tells us that the ‘Aha!’ experience of an insight often hits when we’re not actively working on a problem.[1](For an amazing story about this phenomenon, read about Yitang Zhang and the twin prime conjecture!) Given that insights are hard if not impossible to channel at will, I find it helpful to write down an idea immediately whenever the idea strikes. I keep a list on my phone (currently about 50 ideas jotted there—just a few short sentences for each, capturing the gist), and, when I’m ready to write a new paper, I go to the list and pick one. Of course, some of the ideas on the list will probably never be drafted (and that might be for the best—some are probably crap, or perhaps already covered by someone else!) But it’s helpful to know they’re there anyway.

Dissertations: monographs or three articles?

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

I wonder what folks think about monograph dissertations in comparison to three-article model dissertations.

I wonder because it seems as if having three articles are more likely to increase once’s chances on the job market in comparison to a monograph.

I think this is a really interesting query, and I'm curious to hear what people have to say. Allow me to share a few thoughts.

Taking time away from research

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

I'm not sure if you've covered this already, but.... When do you think a person is "allowed" to take time away from research? My list of papers-in-progress is long and so I more or less always think I should be working on one of them, whenever I have a spare moment (i.e. a moment not devoted to fulfilling other obligations). But right now I have a couple of hours to kill and yet I'm not doing research. I'm tired. I have a young child. I had 4 campus visits this semester and each one was fatiguing to prepare for and to go through. I'm teaching (albeit with a light load). 
How do you decide when to rest and when to push through?

These are great questions, ones I have asked myself from time to time. In fact, I would be very interested to hear answers to them, as I haven't been able to answer them well myself.

Getting things done, part 5: starting early

In the first four entries in this series, I shared some of the obstacles I've seen people commonly run into when it comes to being productive and meeting deadlines--many of which I struggled with in the past myself--along with some strategies I've found helpful for overcoming those obstacles. In today's post, I am going to share something that I've never struggled with myself but have seen other people struggle with a great deal...and that is not leaving enough time to get things done. Allow me to explain.

A while ago, I saw this image going around on social media:

I got a nice laugh out of this because I am such an "A'' person. I literally do think, "I'm already running out of gas" when my gas gauge gets below 3/4 full, and am pretty much anxious about it constantly after that. Absurd, I know - but I can't help it! I've also known many B-type people in my life, and I constantly find myself simultaneously horrified and anxious driving with them. :P

Interestingly, my sense is that this sort of difference in attitude can very much carry over into one's work-life. I always start projects super early because I want to make sure I will get them done with plenty of time to spare. For example, if I get a revise-and-resubmit and the journal gives me a 4 month deadline (or whatever) to get it in, I'll start now--like, the week I get the R&R. In contrast, I've seen other people who have trouble meeting deadlines seem to run into trouble because they adopt a 'B-type' approach. They think to themselves, "Hmm...well, it's not due for 4 months, so if I just leave myself one month to get it done, that will give me plenty of time." Alas, I've seen how this can go: they give themselves a month to get it done, thinking that will be plenty of time--but then sh-t happens, a bunch of stuff comes up they didn't expect, and they end up having to ask for an extension (or worse, get denied an extension and have to send off something that isn't as good as it could have been if they gave themselves more time).

This may seem like a pretty small thing--but my sense is that it can make a huge difference. Anyway, if you are someone who has trouble getting stuff done--and have trouble meeting deadlines--it may be worth asking yourself, "Am I always putting things off because I think I will have more time than I do?" If so, it may be helpful to consciously try to be an 'A-person' when it comes to work stuff--to tell yourself, "No, don't leave this for later. You need to get started on it now, so that you're not pressed for time later!" 

But these are just my thoughts. What are yours? Do any of you struggle with this sort of thing, or with procrastination more generally? If so, what tips (if any) do you have for handling it? I'm curious to hear about people's strategies!

Reader query about undergraduate research

In the comments section of our most recent "how can we help you?" thread, SSW writes:

As an undergraduate student, I wonder what is the best way to choose a dissertation topic? Since my department does not provide many courses on the topic I am interested in, I have to read something by my own. I have read some companions and Philosophy Compass articles, is there anything else I can/should do?

It's not entirely clear to me what SSW means when they ask about a 'dissertation topic.' For example, if they are asking about a PhD dissertation, then my answer is that it is probably much to early to think about that. On the other hand, if the question is about an undergrad thesis, then the question seems to me an apt one. Either way, though, I'm glad they asked these questions, as in thinking about them it occurred to me that I would advise something quite different than what they are currently doing.

Writing formal philosophy

This is a guest contribution by Richard Pettigrew, Professor of Philosophy at the University of Bristol for our series How Philosophers Write:

Stephen Hawking speculated that every formula he included in A Brief History of Time would cut its readership in half. In the end, he included only one, E = mc2, and the book sold half a million copies every year for twenty years.

You often hear a similar complaint from those who work in the more formal parts of philosophy--Bayesian epistemology, philosophical logic, formal semantics, decision theory, voting theory, formal approaches in metaphysics and ethics, for instance. They lament that their work is not so often read, not so often discussed as work on nearby topics that do not use a formal framework.

Now, I don’t know whether the numbers support this gripe, but whether they do or not, there is certainly a lot of work in formal philosophy that is not easily accessible to people who aren’t fully immersed in the formal framework it uses. And while this is no doubt due in part to the difficulty of the mathematical techniques in play, it is also partly the result of the way in which some formal papers are written. And, indeed, mea culpa, I include a number of my own papers in this--I read them back sometimes and hate myself for not doing more to open them up to a wider readership. So I’m writing this not from the smug position of someone who claims to know all the secrets, but rather from the position of someone who’s trying to get better at making their formal work easier to read and digest. I’m not sure whether I’m succeeding, but here are some of the writing techniques I’ve been trying to use. I’d love to hear alternatives or supplements in the comments.

Should you write articles on marginal or moribund topics?

Should early career philosophers devote time and energy to writing journal articles on figures, topics, or debates that are moribund, marginal, or otherwise unlikely to gain interest among other philosophers? Obviously, this turns on complicated metaphilosophical and professional issues too large for a blog post, so let me offer an autobiographical perspective, following Thi Nguyen’s approach in an earlier post in this series.

I did my doctorate at Durham University, starting in September 2006, submitting exactly four years later. My topic was the neglected later writings of the still-controversial philosopher of science and self-styled ‘epistemological anarchist’, Paul Feyerabend (1924-1994), author of Against Method. In terms of publishing articles on his later work, the prospects were mixed. On the one hand, Feyerabend was considered old hat. Genuinely important in his day, sure, but relative to ‘old-school’ concerns, no longer on the agenda of philosophy of science.

Remaining research-active outside academia

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

I am applying for a research position (in ethics) outside Academia. I want to remain active as a researcher (go to conferences, give talks, publish, review papers, etc.). I feel like I'll remain much more active with a research job than with a teaching position. Yet I'm worried: since the position I'm applying for is outside Academia, perhaps I won't be taken seriously by the rest of the research community. So, a couple of questions:

- Do journals care whether you hold a position in Academia or not?
- You see people at a conference with "private sector/government/public sector" on their name tags. Will you talk to them? Will you attend their talks?
- When browsing for papers on topic X, you notice that the author is not from Academia. The paper is published in a good journal. Will you still read the paper?

Great questions. I'm actually personally familiar with a few folks who have continued to publish successfully (in some good journals) after moving outside of academia. So I definitely know it can be done. However, I am not quite sure how to answer the specific questions Worried asks. I mean, I wouldn't treat someone differently at a conference on these grounds, and I would definitely read their paper if it looked interesting to me. But I don't know how others feel.

Anyone have any insight to share?

Getting things done, part 1: adaptation

In my experience, one of the more common things early-career people struggle with is getting things done. Earlier in my career, I had a really difficult time with this myself. For example, after my comprehensive exams in graduate school, I think I went something like a year-and-a-half without finishing any research projects (including a dissertation proposal). Then, when I was in my first job, I think I spent the better part of a year futzing around with a couple of paper drafts--again, not really finishing anything. If these were just struggles that I went through, well they would be just that: an idiosyncratic problem. But in my experience the struggles I faced are pretty common: I've known a number of grad students and early-career faculty members who faced similar issues, especially once they find themselves in full-time faculty jobs where competing demands (teaching, research, and service) really begin piling up.

Because so many people I've known have shared these kinds of struggles, I figured it might be helpful to create a new series where I and readers like share tips on how to get things done. In this, the first post of the series, I'm going to briefly share one thing that I've found helpful--and then ask readers to share any specific troubles they face in getting things done that we might discuss in future posts. Anyway, here goes!

Outside readers for a book manuscript?

I am happy to report that I recently signed a contract for my second book, Neurofunctional Prudence and Morality: A Philosophical Theory. If there are any readers out there who specialize in areas the book focuses on who might be interested in confidentially reading and providing feedback on revised chapter drafts, I could really use some help!

Here is a short description of the project:

Philosophers across many traditions have long theorized about the relationship between prudence and morality. Few clear answers have emerged, however, in large part because of the inherently speculative nature of traditional philosophical methods. This book aims to forge a bold new path forward, outlining a theory of prudence and morality that unifies a wide variety of findings in neuroscience with philosophically sophisticated normative theorizing.

The author summarizes the emerging behavioral neuroscience of prudence and morality, showing how human moral and prudential cognition and motivation are known to involve over a dozen brain regions and capacities. He then outlines a detailed normative philosophical theory of prudence and morality based on neuroscience and lived human experience. The result demonstrates how this theory coheres with and explains the behavioral neuroscience, showing how each brain region and capacity interacts to give rise to normatively prudent and moral behavior. The theory also resolves normative and descriptive critiques of the author's first book, Rightness as Fairness: A Moral and Political Theory.

I am especially in need of readers who specialize in decision-theory (particularly risk and uncertainty) and philosophy of science (specifically, the nature of explanation and theory evaluation). I could also probably use some readers who focus on moral psychology (motivation, emotion, and cognition) and meta-ethics (particularly normativity, reasons, and categorical reasons).

Resources for sharing work?

A reader writes in:

My name is James Lee.  I'm a recent Ph.D. grad out of Syracuse University.  I enjoy reading Philosopher's Cocoon and appreciate the work that you are doing for the community.  

I had a question that may have been addressed in your blog.  I find myself in a position where I really don't have a community of philosophers to share my work.  I am far enough removed from being a graduate student that it seems awkward at best and inappropriate at worst to participating in department activities geared towards paper commentary.  (I've been ABD for a while before defending.)  I'm also an adjunct instructor, and so am not privy to any opportunity among faculty members for the same sort of thing.  The individuals that were in my cohort have mostly left philosophy, or don't seem interested in participating in paper review.

I'd like to find others that are willing to read and comment and my work, and I'd be willing to do the same, but finding such a community seems difficult for me, as I don't know where to look.

I wonder if there are others in my position.  As mentioned above, if this was addressed in your blog, can you direct to the relevant posts?  If not, would you be aware of any possible resources for individuals like myself?

I'm really glad James wrote in. First, I'm hoping we can find some people that James can make connections with. Are any of you in a similar position, looking for people to talk shop and share work with? If so, please do feel free to reach out to James at <soowonlee@gmail.com> (James indicated he is happy to have me share his contact information for this purpose).

Second, and more generally, I'd be curious to hear how readers handle these issues themselves. For my part, I've been pretty bad at making connections to share work--though it is something I have started working on the past several months. What kinds of connections do you have for sharing work? How did they come about, and how do you sustain them? Also, do any of you know of any particular resources for sharing work that you've found helpful in giving and receiving feedback?

I'm really curious to hear people's answers!

An easier poll on peer-review

[Update: survey fixed!]

Following feedback on the poll on peer-review I rolled out the other day, I've tried to design an easier poll. HERE is a new survey that I think readers should have a much easier time with. Although it has 20 items, the items are so simple that I think it should take readers just a couple of minutes to click through. Hopefully we'll get some better data out of this one--and, although it's only an informal poll, my hope is that its results will give us some good material to discuss moving forward!

Query on framing one's research

In the comments section of our most recent "how can we help you?" thread, 'junior faculty' writes:

I am curious about strategies for illustrating 'research promise' (either in a cover letter or research statement). How do people try to communicate their future research ability?

Here are some thoughts I have so far:

1. Mentioning existing publications indicates an ability to publish - so past success is some evidence of the potential for future success.

2. Mentioning works in progress indicates very near future publications (or, ideally, should, but obviously if it gets rejected a lot maybe it will be awhile). The issue here is that, hypothetically, if a paper is under review when you submit your application for a job, it would be accepted for publication prior to starting the job. And so does not seem to clearly indicate anything about what you will do once in the position. Except insofar as it is evidence that you work (much like 

3. Mentioning areas of research. Here the area is reasonably large (big question or some particular subfield) and you of course place your previous work and current work within it, but the hope is that by indicating the more general area you are (implicitly) indicating you can and will do future research, although you are not clearly indicating what that will be.

4. Mentioning future plans. This seems like the most directly relevant, but the issue seems to be that this will often be quite vague or 'promissory'. "In the future, I intend to explore the such and so question" or something like that. Maybe this is less problematic if it fits with previous and current work.

So I see various methods of indicating research promise, but all seem to have issues. But I am just wondering what other people do and what search committees respond to with regard to this issue.

Writing service

Pendaran Roberts (Warwick) writes in:

I saw that one blog post about the student asking for help with their writing sample and another blog post about non-native English speakers. I was thinking that my skills and experience could be of service to people. Maybe you could share the below with your readers? I’d be a good resource and could provide a personalized experience. I was thinking of trying to do this kind of work part-time to help people. 

_____________________

I am offering a service where I help philosophers develop their writing samples and perfect their writing more generally. I have a PhD in Philosophy from a UK university but know both US and UK English. I have a dozen academic publications, many in top 20 journals (https://philpeople.org/profiles/pendaran-roberts). I can help you to achieve your academic writing goals to get into a PhD program or to get your ideas published. 

Please just email me at pendaran@mac.com. We can discuss what help exactly you need and agree on a fee. My help can range from merely proofreading your work to in-depth coaching to develop your academic writing ability.

If you are a non-native speaker, I am also happy to be of service. I am not an English teacher but can read through work, correct English mistakes, and help with the overall feel of your writing. 

Query on resources to improve writing

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

I recently graduated with a MA and applied to very few PhD programs during fall of 2017. I didn't get in any of them. I didn't expect to because I kind of had a feeling that my writing sample was weak. Very weak. However, I'm trying again this time around, but with a better sample (hopefully). So, i was wondering whether anybody on here knew of good resources for someone like me to get better at writing. Groups people who can help etc. Or, if there are workshops anywhere in the country that help with writing for PhD admission. Any resource, guide or advice will be very helpful. I'm more or less on my own since I'm no longer in school and my professors from my previous school have their hands full with their current students. So, anything will be helpful. Thanks.

I'm not personally aware of particular resources, but am curious whether readers do. The only real advice I have is to write, and write a lot--and to get feedback from anyone who's willing to take the time to read your stuff. Writing, like anything else, takes a ton of practice. I've rewritten particular papers from scratch upwards of a dozen times. I also draft up papers that I go on to do nothing with. To me, doing these things isn't a waste of time. It's practice! My experience, at any rate, is that the more one writes, the more one's writing skills are likely to improve. 

Still, I know this doesn't really answer the reader's particular query. So, what do you all think? Do you know of any good resources for improving one's writing--particularly as it pertains to putting together a good writing sample for PhD programs?

Reader query on handling idea-theft

A reader writes in: "what should a student or early career researcher do when someone with a permanent position and recognition steals some of her unpublished ideas (for example, ideas from her thesis) without literally plagiarizing them?"

Great question. I've heard multiple stories of this happening to early-career people. In fact, I saw someone report such a story on social media just the other day. In that case, it was a senior member of the profession reporting what happened to them earlier in their career, noting that they felt powerless to do anything about it and how it negatively affected their career prospects (evidently, the person and the person who stole their ideas both published on the topic, but the person who stole the idea has reaped nearly all of the credit for it). 

Given that I have heard more than a few stories about this sort of thing, it seems like an important issue to address. What can an early-career person do in cases like this? And what, if anything, should they do? Also, what if it happens to a non-early career person? Is how they should handle it relevantly different?

Query on developing research projects post-PhD

A reader wrote in by email:

I'm not long out of graduate school, and now I've got to get some publications under my belt. I'm okay with diligence, but now that I'm not working on the dissertation and don't have a committee steering me with a moderately heavy hand, I'm having a heck of a time finding rich research projects and identifying good potential essays to work on. I've got a handful of smaller ideas (here's a minor objection, here's a quibble something buried deep in that literature), but nothing that seems remotely like the sort of idea that'd become a great article. Do other people have that problem? Do people have good strategies for getting on track?

I looked at Karen Kelsky's Unstuck program, but that seems more like it is for people who have a project but just can't quite bring it to the submission stage. Does anyone have experience with this program or some other coaching program that they wouldn't mind sharing?

This is a really great query. I struggled with the same issue my first couple of years post-PhD. While I had projects from my dissertation to work on (which is a good source for potential publications), I hardly got anywhere with coming up with substantial new projects. I read a lot and tried to write a lot...but the only ideas I came up with for a year or two were the kinds of 'minor' objections or quibbles this reader describes--stuff that seemed philosophically banal and nothing like a major research project? Fortunately, I learned a lot from the experience--both about what didn't work (for me, at least), but also methods for coming up with major new projects (something I no longer struggle with). While I don’t have any experience with coaching programs, let me describe my experiences and tips, and then invite you to share yours!

Accountability Tools

While I was working on my dissertation proposal, I came across Robert Paul Wolff’s blog post “How to write a doctoral dissertation in philosophy.”  For the most part, I thought it was great. (I just reread it for the first time in years.  I still think most of it is great advice.)  I thought it was so great I emailed it to several of my classmates who were ABD.  Some of them hated it, and so we all took a break from the serious business of grad school to argue about it. I have no intention of returning to that argument here.

Instead, I want to talk about just one of the things that Wolff says.  Here it is:

On the first day, write one page and stop. The next day, write another page, and stop.... If you are able to, write two pages a day.... Also, do not write four or five pages on a really good day and then figure you can take a few days off. Those few days will stretch into eternity. You are a tortoise, not a hare. Slow and steady wins the race....

He also suggests the following for those who might need extra motivation, but I think it might be of use even to those who are fairly self-disciplined:

…cut a deal with a fellow dissertation writer. You will send her a page a day by email, and she will send you a page of her dissertation every day by email. You will read her page [it only takes a minute] and send back an encouraging word, and she will do the same for you.

Writing Groups

For my first few posts, I wanted to talk about writing.  In particular, I wanted to talk about practices—both individual and communal—related to writing.  I am interested in how the act of writing (and the act of avoiding writing, for that matter) is related to other behaviors.  I am also interested in how we might better integrate the act of writing into our lives, perhaps to make us more productive, or perhaps simply to make us happier.

What I wish my earlier self had known about my AOS - part 1: history of philosophy

The other day, a reader approached me by email suggesting a new series, one where more advanced members of the profession share things they have learned about doing work in their AOS that they wish their earlier self might have known. I thought it is a great idea, and want to invite readers interested in contributing to the series to email me at marvan@ut.edu.

In the meantime, the reader who emailed me  submitted the following post, which I hope you find interesting and helpful!:

By Anonymous 

I approached Marcus about the idea of doing a series on what people wish they’d known as grad students about their own area of specialty. He suggested that I tackle the first post of the series. So, here goes.  I am a historian of philosophy in a tenure-track position. I’m mostly happy with my professional specialization and my place in it, but I would still want to tell my younger self a few things I’ve learned since finishing my Ph.D.

Obituary for the Prosblogion - and what public philosophy might look like after FaceBook

After nearly 15 years, the Prosblogion, a philosophy of religion blog is no more (the link does not work). The blog's owner let me know yesterday that he had the blog expire. Posting had become less frequent, a fate similar to other group blogs. 15 years in blog terms is a long time. Let me tell you about what writing for the blog meant to me, why the blog is valuable, and why I think we will ditch FaceBook as a platform for philosophy in due course too. 

I wrote for the Prosblogion since about 2010, joining when the blog was already mature at about 8 years old. At the time I did not have a PhD in philosophy yet, but I was a postdoc in archaeology, working on a philosophy project and fascinated with philosophy. I was writing my second PhD thesis (in philosophy) while being a postdoc, and got the degree a year later. Being a postdoc outside the English-speaking world (at the University of Leuven), writing for blogs such as Prosblogion and NewApps was a wonderful way to be in touch with other members of the profession. For various reasons, I felt isolated and lonely in Leuven, and had no support network. Prosblogion gave a sense of community, mostly with other early-career philosophers (although there were frequently pieces by more seasoned academics on it as well).

Reader query on focusing one's research

In the comments section of our newest "how can we help you?" thread, RC asks:

How do people decide what to focus on in their research? It's not that I don't have any ideas the problem is that I have a lot of different ideas and I can't decide which to focus on. And how do people stay motivated to work on research? My current job has pretty low research expectations so there's not really that push any more. But I do want to stay active in that. It somehow feels like I'm not a real scholar if I don't. And while I don't have any plans to go on the market in the immediate future, I wouldn't mind keeping my options open in the long term. (I love the day to day work of my job, but I'm increasingly less sure about the upper level admin and not crazy about the region).

Good questions! While we're all different, and what works for one person might not work for another, my own strategy is two-fold: 

1. I prioritize whichever project seems clearest to me (the one I'll have the easiest time getting down on paper), and
2. Failing that, I just work on whatever I'm most excited about.
3. If I'm not excited about or clear on anything, I take a research break and do other stuff!

In practice, here's how this works...

Reader query on when to set aside a project

 eIn the comments section of our most recent "how can we help you?" post, Anonymous writes:

How do you work out when it is time to give up on (or at least put aside for the long term) a project that you have been working on for some considerable time?

I have been working on a paper for a couple of months now, unfortunately to the detriment of my dissertation. I've give a couple of talks on it and the feedback, while positive about the underlying idea, has been largely negative about the presentation and readiness of the paper for submission.

My dilemma is whether I should put another few weeks or months into the paper in the hopes of getting it published, or if it is time to put it on the back burner (perhaps until my dissertation is finished).

Getting a high quality publication is really important, and I still have about a year to work on the dissertation, but I feel that I might be falling for a kind of sunk costs fallacy: putting in further work now that is not productive due to fear of having wasted the last two months or so.

I'd love to hear any tips, heuristics, or other ways of judging such a situation that people have. I understand that specific advice is beyond the scope of anonymous posting here, but perhaps people have general strategies or ideas that might help me assess the situation better.

I think Guy provided a nice reply targeting the particular situation described:

As counter-intuitive as this sounds, put the project down for two months. Work on your dissertation. Then pick the paper up and see what it sounds like once you have some distance from it. In the meantime, you will have pushed your dissertation forward. I have had a few projects that I set aside for two years, and then I found I had insights and conceptual tools I did not have before.

However, Guy's advice is really narrowly targeted to the reader's situation. What about the reader's more general query regarding tips or heuristics for knowing when to side aside or give up on a project?

I think this is an important issue because in my experience mentoring a few grad students, one common problem I see is in "getting stuck" on a single project. I've seen this happen more than a few times: a person gets an revise-or-resubmit or something, and then they end up spending all of their time on the project--even when that involves spinning their wheels for months on end and letting other projects fall by the wayside. Because of the "publish or perish" nature of the job-market and tenure, my sense is that this is a really important pitfall to avoid. Which once again raises Guy's question: what are some strategies for recognizing when one should set aside or give up on a project? 

Structuring unstructured time

In the comments section of Trevor's recent post, "Dissertation Reflection Series, Part 2: A Different Kind of Project", a reader ("cw") wrote:

For me, #1 was the biggest problem. I'm not good with unstructured time. I found myself rushing at the end of each semester to have something to show my director.

I should have set more meeting points for us, and clearer expectations for each meeting. I'm sure my director would have gone for it, but I didn't ask.

In my experience, this is a problem a lot of graduate students have, and for roughly the reasons Trevor gives. Throughout the first part of grad school (e.g. course work, comp exams, etc.), one has fairly clear deadlines. Yet, when it comes to the dissertation stage and publishing, one no longer has such clear deadlines--and one can end up wasting a lot of time getting little done. I know from experience! After my comp exams, I basically got nothing of import done for about a year-and-a-half. And it wasn't for lack of trying. I was reading. I was trying to write. I just wasn't being effective. And I know I'm not alone in this. I am currently mentoring a PhD student who excelled in graduate school...until passing comp exams (just like me!). Fortunately, I have learned a lot about how to deal effectively with "unstructured time", and as I will explain below, the strategies I have developed have sound empirical support.

I didn't know this until my spouse (who works in IO-Psychology), but one of the more well-confirmed theories in her field is known as Goal-Setting Theory. In rough outline, Goal-Setting Theory posits that specific and ambitious daily and weekly goals lead to higher performance than easier or more general goals. The basics of Goal-Setting Theory have been inductively confirmed by over 400 studies spanning over 25 years. More exactly, the theory recommends (here I quote):

How I learned to love writing philosophy: 3 steps

In his post last week, "Should You Go to Graduate School in Philosophy (Revisited)", Trevor wrote:

Now let’s suppose you answer this first question in the affirmative – you think the grad school experience will be worth it even if things go unfavorably for you sometime during the program or during your time on the job market. The next question to ask – one that I did not consider when I was contemplating whether to go to graduate school – is this: “Do I deeply enjoy writing philosophy?” Like the previous question, if you cannot answer this one with a sincere yes, then I think going to graduate school is unwise.

If you enjoy reading philosophy or talking philosophy, that’s great. But what really matters to your long-term success in graduate school is whether you will write philosophy...

In response to Trevor's post, an anonymous commenter ('O') wrote: "I think the author is exagerating [sic]. How many people do you know who enjoy writing philosophy? I know very few, even among professors." However, my experience--and Trevor's evidently--is very different. Like Trevor, many of the people I know who have done well in the profession appear to be people who sincerely love writing, and do a ton of it. Not only that. Whereas the times that I struggled the most in my career--both during graduate school and during my early career after receiving my PhD--were the times that I didn't get much written because I didn't enjoy it. I only began to publish successfully and do better on the job market once I learned to really enjoy writing philosophy, just like Trevor says. And, make no mistake, I really love it. As I noted in a comment: "I absolutely love writing philosophy. I wake up just about every weekday looking forward to doing it." This is, if anything, an understatement. I'm half-ashamed to admit it, but often enough if I'm having a boring weekend I actually can't wait for Monday around so I can start drafting a new paper! I'm a nerd, I know, but it's true. :)

Anyway, after writing my comment, a few people asked me how I came to love writing. First, Amanda asked:

Marcus, did you always love writing, or did it change once you decided to write about big ideas instead of the stuff others told you to write about? I think I am going to change my writing style (i.e. write about what I enjoy writing about, and in the style I enjoy) after I finish one last round of revisions for the "try to please the authorities" paper. I hope I have more fun.

Then, after responding to Amanda, I received a similar query via email about how to write more efficiently. Because learning to love writing was such an important part of my professional development--and because at least a couple of people were interested in the answers--I thought I might write a short post on these issues. So, here goes!

Tips for doing public philosophy?

There has been some good discussion recently on what we should do as philosophers in these politically turbulent times. I myself have increasingly felt--especially as a moral and political philosopher--as though I should get more involved in "public philosophy": publishing pieces in non-academic outlets for a broader audience.

To that end, dating back to early last summer, I composed a handful of pieces on contemporary social, political, and economic affairs. Alas, I haven't (yet) had any luck with them (a few of them have been under review, others turned into academic pieces and submitted to journals, etc.). I've also really struggled as a writer to feel like I can hit the right level of sophistication versus accessibility. On the one hand, whenever I write something short and super-accessible (the kinds of things popular venues tend to publish), I feel like the piece is terrible--too polemic, glossing over important intricacies and supporting facts or theories (I think it's important to base public arguments on facts!). On the other hand, whenever I write something I feel better about, it seems more like an academic piece (much longer, rife with citations, etc.).

In any case, because doing "public philosophy" isn't something that most of us academic philosophers have experience with or training in, I thought it might be good to get some tips from people who have done it successfully. Here are just a few questions I have:

1. What's the best way to go about the process (i.e. submitting proposals, pieces, etc.)?
2. Do you need to have an "in" with an editor to be successful?
3. What tips do you have for "hitting the right level" for readers?
4. Which venues would you suggest?

I'm particularly interested in question (2), in part because as John Scdwenkler notes here, "I have written a bunch of reviews and essays for popular publications. It's always been by way of contact with an editor (sometimes initiated from their end). I have tried submitted unsolicited things once or twice, and I don't think that's ever worked out."

Any public philosophers out there have any helpful tips for those of us who want to get more involved?

What counts as philosophy? On the normative disguised as descriptive UPDATED

As a scholar of Prābhākara Mīmāṃsā I am well aware of how the normative is often disguised as descriptive. "It is seven o' clock" says the mother, but what she means is rather "Get up! You have to go to school".

 

Similarly, complex discourses about the nature of philosophy, how it was born, e.g., in Greece or in Plato's Republic, and how it developed in (Latin), German, (French) and English, are only meant to say "We are not going to welcome colleagues working on things we do not care for in our departments". Why so? Because as soon as one tries to reason with the authors of the allegedly descriptive statements (as done here by Ethan Mills and here by Amod Lele), one gets answers such as "the universality of philosophy", "the primacy of logical argumentation", "the importance of debate", "the supremacy of reason over tradition" etc. All of them can be easily found at least in some Indian schools.

I am not saying that they are not found in African, Chinese, Mesoamerican philosophy, I am just saying that no matter how restrictive your definition of philosophy, Navya Nyāya, etc., will fit in. Conversely, Thomas the Aquinas, Augustine, Nietzsche etc. will end up being excluded by such definitions. Thus, the argument is in fact overtly not descriptive.

Does it mean that we should try to make philosophers accept at least Navya Nyāya etc? Or should we rather uncover the normativity of the discourse and call for a broader definition of the enterprise of philosophy?

An insightful discussion of the same issue, with extensive quotes and critical reflections about them can be read in Malcolm Keating's blog, here.

Eric Schwitzgebel offers further interesting reflections on the issue in his blog (be sure to check the comments and his accurate replies to the "ignorance justifying ignorance" argument, as well as the labels for the "not really philosophy" and "low quality" arguments).

UPDATE: "Prof Manners" has an interesting post here explaining that articles trying to say that Confucius is not "philosophical" because philosophy is x, y, z in fact only list "generally desirable and admiration-worthy qualities".

 

(cross-posted on my personal blog, where you can read also some interesting comments regarding the inclusion (or lack thereof) of Islamic philosophy, and on the Indian Philosophy blog, where you can read some comments regarding the organisation of philosophy institutes.)

 

“The State of Teacher Training in Philosophy”

By Jerry Green

I recently came across an interesting paper published in Teaching Philosophy, “The State of Teacher Training in Philosophy”. This paper, authored by David Concepción, Melinda Messineo, Sarah Wieten and Catherine Homan, investigates the training given to graduate students in philosophy programs. You can access the paper here or here. I thought the results were worth sharing here; they’re not exactly surprising, but still worth highlighting.

The tl:dr version of the paper is that the state of teacher training in philosophy isn’t very good. The vast majority of grad students and faculty agree that teaching is an important part of one’s professional obligations and that PhD training should include training in pedagogy. But most grads get little explicit training, and what they get is often (i) not very targeted or practical, and (ii) run by faculty that have no particular expertise in pedagogy. The paper concludes with some recommendations for improving the state of things, focusing mainly on what they call “high impact’ training, which basically amounts to structuring pedagogy courses more like seminars, with required reading and assignments.

One particularly interesting facet of the paper is the disconnect between how competent people feel about teaching versus how good they feel about the training they got. Basically, people tend to think that they didn't get sufficient training on how to teach, but feel that they're sufficient teachers anyway.

There are some reasons to be a bit hesitant about fully endorsing the results of this survey: the authors note that the respondent demographics don’t quite match what other surveys have found, for instance, and there’s always the worry that the sample is skewed in favor of people concerned enough to fill out the survey in the first place. But I don’t think this makes a big difference. The numbers may change a bit, but probably not enough to affect the overall results.

The main thing I wanted to do was simply bring this paper to everyone’s attention. But I also thought I’d open the floor to see if any of our readers had particularly good experiences with their own pedagogy training. At UT Austin we have a required course, usually taken in the 2^nd or 3^rd year, that involves making a few syllabi for intro level courses.  Many of us have found this useful when we’re put in charge of our own class down the road. And there are often university teaching and learning centers that offer training and certification, which you can use to supplement what you get from your department. I've done a couple of these certificates, and I've found them useful, but I've heard others report the opposite. But like many of the paper’s survey respondents, the bulk of my pedagogy education has come from a combination of (i) copying role models, (ii) trial-and-error, and (iii) outside research (like, ahem, here). So I’d certainly like to hear more about how folks do things at their own institutions. It might also be nice to hear from anyone who’s been involved in changing the way their department runs things. Have any tips for how to improve the state of teacher training in our own departments?

Working at Philosophy - Introduction

By Stacey Goguen

In this series, I want to talk about what goes into the work we do as philosophers, what sorts of difficulties arise when we’re trying to work, and what we can do about them. 

Hello! I am an ABD graduate student, and I’ve spent a lot of my nascent philosophy career so far struggling to figure out what I should be doing when I “do philosophy.” When starting graduate school, I found talking about philosophy easy enough, as well as thinking about it on my own. But when it came time to sit down and write for any substantial amount of time, I often felt lost. And it didn’t help that there seemed to be a voice in the back of my head asking if maybe I didn’t belong in philosophy, if I was having this much trouble with what is supposed to be our basic activity. Furthermore, I was puzzled by the observation that people in philosophy rarely talked about how they worked. It was like some secret, mystical process by which we all retreated to our private quarters and returned some time later with the philosophy we had birthed in the interim. (Maybe I didn’t have the right philosophical reproductive organs that everyone else had?)

Now, years later, after asking a bunch of professors and graduate students how they work, taking a cold, hard look at my own work habits (and lack thereof), and tripping over some life lessons as they came barreling at me, I think I have something of a grasp on how to be a working philosopher. By this I mean, I sometimes feel like I actually know what I am doing, and most days, philosophy does not feel like it is slowly eating my soul. In fact, some days I down right enjoy working.

So I want to talk about what I’ve found out—about myself, about doing work, and about some of the psychological processes that may be in play when we try to do philosophy. I want to do four things with this series of posts.