First of all, I’m exhausted, so I’m going to be a lazy linker. But the latest news about the Gigantic Kerfuffle regarding the Colorado State English Dept. job ad has apparently resulted in a change of language (which I think is infinitely preferable to their original ad).
Lots of people have already written about this, so I’m coming in late with some reflections, in no particular order.
First, on the ad itself (both in original and revised forms):
- I never thought that the original ad was a “lawsuit waiting to happen.” It’s worth noting that I might resist at first blush any claims about “lawsuits waiting to happen” that I hear, mainly because in my neck of the academic woods, the people who like to utter that phrase tend to be Super Paranoid Miserable People without Law Degrees. It’s like this crazy threat that academics (without law degrees) like to throw out there when they’re too lazy to articulate what are actually ethical, political, or moral objections, not legal ones.
- That said, I was totally disgusted by the original ad (which said it wouldn’t consider applications from people who earned their degrees before 2010), mainly because I felt like it came off as a very “let them eat cake” moment. Everybody knows that when the market crashed in 2008 it left a lot of great people without the potential of gaining tenure-track employment. We still haven’t (will we ever?) recovered from that. To assert that the only people out there seeking entry-level tenure-track work have only gotten degree-in-hand within the past two years? What planet do these people live on?!?! That wasn’t even true before the market crashed.
- I was further disgusted by the original ad because if their aim was to limit the number of applications (and I have to think that this was at least in part the case), then they could have done so by narrowing the field of their search, as opposed to saying “pre-1900 American Literature,” which, let’s note, is HUGE and covers like three different fields in the discipline. So not only was the original ad offensive to people off the tenure-track, it was also lazy as hell.
But so now, after the massive public shaming, the language has changed, and it’s less offensive. So far so good, right? But that doesn’t mean much, at the end of the day, because at the end of the day, lots of departments won’t look twice at an application from a person who is more than 3 years from degree. Or, to be less cynical than that, they may look twice at that application, but that application is going to have more items on it that give them a reason to rule a person out. And, frankly, that is true whether one is applying from a tenure-track position or whether one is in a contingent position. I don’t think it’s actually, at least in my experience, about discriminating against people who’ve been working as adjuncts. It’s about experience.
“Experience” is all well and good, but your experiences can make you not “fit” with the hiring department’s imagined ideal of who they will hire for that position. Because the more classes you teach, and the more articles you write, and the more books you publish, the more it’s clear who you actually are. Now, sure, you might be the exact perfect person that every person in the hiring department has been waiting for all his or her life. But probably? That ain’t going to be so.
Why not? Well, because hiring departments, especially big ones, like my department with around 30 full-time people, have lots of different personalities and lots of different ideas about their One True Colleague. I got the offer for my job when I was ABD (though I had degree in hand when I started). I was like a tiny precocious baby, who clearly could teach the classes that they wanted people to teach in my field, but who, primarily, was adorable. Like a baby who can sing her ABCs. But let’s say I’d have applied for this job when I was three years out – with those presentations, publications, and newly developed courses on my cv. Would I have gotten the job? Maybe, but I think not. Because what I did in that three years gave a hint to the sort of colleague I actually am, which is a hell of a lot less accommodating than the eager beaver I was when I had yet to defend my dissertation. When they hired me, they could imagine who I’d become, who they would shape me to become. After a few years? Yeah, it must have become pretty apparent to some people that they’d made a giant mistake about what sort of colleague I would be. Oh, I’m exactly as “energetic” as they’d thought I’d be, and I work hard, and I care about teaching and do a good job with it, and I’m fun to have a conversation with in the hallway. That’s all fine, which is why I was able to earn tenure in spite of the other things that I revealed. They certainly didn’t expect all my opinions. They certainly didn’t expect that I’d keep publishing 1-2 things a year, plus a book before tenure. They didn’t think that I’d be… as vocal and as insistent as I’ve become. When I had yet to earn my degree, I seemed like I’d be “fun” and “engaging.” And, sure, I am. But I’m also a pain in the ass. And, frankly, that is clear from how my cv has developed, both in terms of the courses I teach and in terms of the articles and book that I’ve published. Sure, there might be some department out there that would see that cv and think, “You complete me!” But not most.
I don’t say all of this to be defeatist to those still on the market after a few years, nor do I say it in order to provide some sort of alibi for search committees that discount experience in favor of the shiny new thing or who discount those applying from contingent positions in favor of those applying from “good” jobs or from Fancy Graduate Programs. I say this because this is the profession as I’ve come to know it, at least in English.
Now, that being said, we’ve hired “old” PhDs in my department in recent years, because we felt like they would be a good fit for our students, because we felt like they’d be promising colleagues. That said, they didn’t come in guns blazing about how much “experience” they would bring us, or how they “deserved” the job (although they did). And, though this probably seems counter-intuitive to the advice that most people get, they had weak publication records. See, regardless of the requirements for tenure here, we are a “teaching” school. Show too much interest in research and there are some people who will question your commitment to teaching.
Basically, the bottom line is that the market sucks and it’s not fair. It’s not about merit, or accomplishments, or experience. Does that mean that the hires that we’ve made since I’ve been here have been “bad”? No. But it does mean that a lot of people with great CVs who’ve been out of the PhD for a while will always be in danger of seeming like a “bad fit.”
So while I thought the CSU original ad was disgusting, I think it did reveal some hard truths about who we are and how we do business. Yes, your PhD does have an expiration date. Mainly because when it comes to hiring, most universities (maybe not all, but most) would rather imagine what you might become than know what you are.
Reassigned Time 2.0 
That one paragraph in the middle had like thirty fucken sentences!
I completely completely completely agree with you. I have tried to articulate this same thing a bunch of times – that once you’ve actually *done* stuff, and developed a scholarly persona/identity, you can no longer sell yourself as everything and anything a department wants. You’re no longer about the bright shiny potential, and a department has to want *exactly* what you’ve become – which can happen, but is much much harder.
I also firmly believe the PhD has an expiration date (in most cases. Depending who you are and what you do. But never expiring is an exception). In part, my grad advisor used to say this, back in the 90s; she was the grad placement officer at one point (meaning she coordinated sending out people’s LORs) and she said she’d look at the people who hadn’t found permanent positions and been out for 10 years and just wanted to tell them to get out and try something else (out of genuine sympathy, I believe – not disdain). But also, weirdly, I could just *feel* my own degree expiring when I was looking for an academic job after the second t-t job. I know that’s a slightly different context, but kind of similar: I hadn’t achieved all the markers of success I was supposed to achieve on the timeline I was supposed to achieve them. And I could just *feel* it.
I mean, this all sucks, and none of it is fair and I don’t think it’s the way things *should* be. But I think it’s how they are.
Man do I hate what you say here, but I totally think you are right. Goddam it.
CPP- Sometimes a long paragraph is the only sort of paragraph to have. Your short attention span can’t dictate the parameters of good writing 🙂
You’ve identified the key problems with the ad perfectly, and I can only nod wearily when you write about the Super Paranoid Miserable People. (Yes, I know that some of these SPMP are getting ready right now to apply for jobs, and so their frustration level is high.) But, although I recognize as you do the hard truths about expiration dates, I have some practical questions. What consequences follow from recognizing these truths? We don’t want to be defeatist, but how should job candidates act differently because of these truths? (No one gains if people simply become SPMP.) Can a candidate push back the expiration date? How can responsible members of departments push it back? What are the arguments used against candidates who have had their Ph.D’s for three or more years? (I don’t mean the arguments that have to do with money, just the arguments that have to do with academic concerns.) Are there any valid insights in those arguments? (Not many, in my view.)
Honestly? I think the consequence is that after a few years (exact number depends on circumstances, but probably certainly after 5 years) job candidates should get out and do something else. But that’s just me. The hard thing is that I’m not aware of any explicit arguments that degrees earned longer ago are less valuable; it’s just that it becomes easier to rule someone out because they don’t have *exactly* the skillset/area/whatever of the search committee’s dream candidate. It’s harder to rule out the blank slate. And really, hiring in academia seems to be all about ruling out candidates these days. The thing with the longer-ago degrees is that as you continue to do stuff and develop a persona/identity, you may be making yourself into *exactly* what a specific department wants. But I think the issue of “fit” becomes even more fraught the more experienced a candidate is. When you “hit,” you have a HUGE advantage over a newbie. But if you’re not quite on, you miss more than a newbie.
(Here’s one example of what I’m thinking: if you have some teaching experience, all as a TA or instructor at your grad institution, great, you know something about what you’re doing! But you’re not necessarily “branded” by that teaching. However, if you’ve been working full-time (or part-time) for a few years, especially not at your grad institution, you take on the characteristics of that place. So if you’ve been teaching at a SLAC, regional schools and R1s may think, Oh, they don’t really want to be at a school like ours, or Oh, they’re way more focused on teaching than we are (or, Not enough focused on research, or They won’t want to do the kind of teaching we have to do). Of course, vice versa if you’re at the R1 or regional school. If you’ve been at an elite school, non-elite schools will think you won’t like their students/setting/lack of resources; if you’ve been at a community college, elite schools may think you won’t know how to approach their student body. If you’ve been in a rural setting, urban schools might think you’ll be unexperienced with their demographics and vice versa.
I can’t *guarantee* that’s how it works – especially since my academic experience is reaching its sell-by date – but that’s at least part of what I think happens. There are obviously things a candidate can do to counter these assumptions, but if the committee is choosing between the experienced candidate who doesn’t neatly fit their box, and a blank slate – or an experienced candidate who *does* neatly fit their box – I think chances are good they will reject the person who doesn’t fit their box. I do think experienced people have a *shot,* but I think you kind of have to fit the box much more exactly than new candidates.)
(These principles seem to apply somewhat to applicants trying to jump from one t-t job to another, but less strongly? It’s a puzzlement.)
First, what New Kid said.
Second, “how should job candidates act differently because of these truths?” You know… I think, maybe, that the further away from the degree date you are, the more you have to stop following the advice you got about going on the market in grad school. What do I mean? Well, if what we tell new PhDs is that they should apply for every job they might possibly fit; that they should really “sell themselves” and talk up their accomplishments; that they should convince the hiring departments that they are going to come in and set the world on fire…
Well, those tactics work if you’re fresh out of grad school. But I think the longer that you’re out, the more put off departments are by candidates who are still projecting themselves that way. As I wrote in my post, successful candidates more than 5 years from degree at my institution downplayed research, played up teaching, and played up their “pleasantness” – they didn’t come in talking about how they wanted to institute all these initiatives or arguing that we couldn’t live without them or that they were the “best” of all the other candidates to ever apply for a job ever. I suspect that if this is the demeanor that these people projected on the market when they were “fresh” that this is exactly why they would have been passed over for somebody more dynamic, extroverted, or bold in their self-presentation. In years 1 and 2 on the market, dynamic, extroverted, and bold are qualities in strong demand, but after? I suspect departments begin to ding people for those qualities because they feel like they are insincere – if the person is so great, then why don’t they have a job? So humility “sells” better the longer you’re out.
Also, I think that we have to be really clear that publishing more and more and more does not necessarily make you a stronger candidate for tenure-track positions at the majority of institutions. In my department, we want to see some sense of scholarly engagement – so something like a conference paper a year and maybe an article every two to three years – which shows us that you can successfully do what it takes to get tenure. But frankly, I’ve got colleagues that throw out applications with more than that. “They’ll never stay.” “They don’t want to work at a place with a 4/4 load.” “This person must not be a very dedicated teacher.” Again, if I were to apply now for my same job that I do successfully, I don’t think I’d make the short list for a campus visit. I’m now “overqualified” for the exact job that I have.
By the same token, teaching more and more does not necessarily make you a stronger candidate. Nobody gets bonus points for piecing together a living out of adjuncting at three different places. If I were advising a person who is doing that, I would seriously tell them to cut back on adjuncting to one course a semester and to get a day-job with health insurance. One course a semester is enough teaching for a job application. Seriously.
You both make very good points, although I am not convinced that a person who has been teaching a full load as an adjunct should figure that “One course a semester is enough teaching for a job application.”
If we wish to advise long-term candidates, don’t we need to work backwards, looking at people who got their first tenure-track jobs when they were three or more years out? Part of the challenge, however, is that we need enough examples to allow us to be confident about our generalizations. I can respond to you, Crazy, by mentioning the two or three 4/4 schools that interviewed me despite my Cambridge book, but my story would not tell us how likely such an event is, or illuminate the causes (maybe they liked the fact that I had been teaching 4/4 successfully in visiting positions?). By the way, there is a problem not only of method but of rhetoric. I finally became tenure-track in my ninth year on the market, but let’s be clear: my message is never “EngLitProf did it; why can’t you?,” and I don’t want my history to be used for that purpose.
ELP – Here’s what I meant by that: on the many searches that have occurred in my department in the past ten years, we have never decided to interview somebody based on the fact that they were teaching 5 courses a semester adjuncting. We never have thought, “oh, let’s pick that person over somebody who has been teaching fewer courses.” MUCH more important than the “amount” of teaching is a) enthusiasm about teaching and b) *interesting* ideas about teaching. When we hire for the t-t, we aren’t interviewing somebody because they’ve already had a crushing workload, so there is no BENEFIT to doing that to yourself.
To be clear, I’m talking about piecemeal part-time gigs here – not visiting positions or lecturer positions, which to my mind are a different kettle of fish.
And you’re right: obviously we need more than individual anecdotes, but since I’ve never seen a conversation actually happen about this topic in public, I figured that maybe anecdotes would be a starting point, if that makes sense. I will say that hiring “old” PhDs is in fact the norm in my department (seriously: I can think of just two of us who came in all bright and shiny and new, and that’s including me) in the past 15 or so years, so while I do only have a sample size of one institution, I do have a larger sample size of individuals who’ve found their way to t-t employment even after the first few years with PhD in hand, and an even larger sample size of people we’ve interviewed who fit that description but whom we’ve ultimately not hired. For what it’s worth, depending on the search committee, sometimes a person with a strong publication record makes it to the campus visit stage in my department, but those people have never gotten hired, whether because they’ve gotten offers elsewhere with less crushing teaching loads and higher pay, or because people in my department questioned whether they’d be happy here.
(Strong candidates taking other offers only exacerbates the prejudice against interviewing “overqualified” candidates – why “waste our time” on somebody who won’t take our job anyway, or so the logic goes.)
Maybe I shouldn’t, but I feel for the person who is going to get this job and have her or his career scrutinized by those outside the department. I mean, at this point, we might be able to say anyone applying for this job should expect such scrutiny. But I’m betting there are some applicants out there who do not read the academic press and won’t know this history. I feel for that person if she or he gets the job.
For what it’s worth, I’d long been operating under the assumption that PhDs had an expiration date. Add to that the fact that I have found the precariousness of adjunct life to be almost unbearable, and I have set myself a rough cutoff date that is probably a much shorter window than anybody would recommend. For me, there has always been something bordering on sinister about stringing folks along with the idea that “if you wait it out for X years, something will come through” when we all know that’s not guaranteed. (And is probably quite unlikely.) And while I’m just one person, I do believe that the only way adjunct conditions will significantly change for the better is if adjuncts vote with their feet and refuse to accept these poorly paid positions.
Thank you for writing about how business is done. I think I’m a fairly perceptive person, as I navigate the political landscape of my new department and college, but it’s always good to have an experienced eye and voice. Five years seems like a lot of time, but if I consider going on the job market ABD, then it’s actually just four years, and no matter what I do in this program–coursework, research, teaching–I’m always cognizant of the impending job search.
Before I get to my response I’d like to say that my comments aren’t directed at you personally but instead at the practices/culture you are describing. And it is out of frustration at the system that I write this.
Dr. Crazy, you said: “When we hire for the t-t, we aren’t interviewing somebody because they’ve already had a crushing workload, so there is no BENEFIT to doing that to yourself.”
This was in reference to someone adjuncting at several different schools at the same time–working, piece-meal as you call it. Do these hiring committees ever stop to consider that adjuncts do this so they can feed their children, pay their rent, buy their children clothes for school, pay for gas etc.? People who are adjuncting at 3 or 4 schools and teaching 5-6 courses aren’t doing it because they want to have a “crushing workload” or think it will look good on their resume. They are doing it out of economic necessity plain and simple. And why should that be a negative? Also, getting a “day job” in the current market isn’t any easier than getting a TT position, so the assumption that a person can just easily switch to another field and cut back to one course a semester is a naïve one. Oh, and on that point, is it really better that a person leave academia for a “day job” and only teach one class, than for them to plug away at 3 or 4 adjuncting positions? Why does that make a person a better candidate for a TT position than adjuncting? Isn’t it better to have a person dedicated to teaching than someone who treats it as a side job—or if not better, at least just as valuable? I don’t understand that one.
What’s so disturbing to me about all of these discussions about how hiring committees choose their new hires is the seeming lack of humanity. It’s like they’re searching for a robot that they can program to their own specific needs and that was “built” following a very specific blueprint (no deviations from said blueprint allowed). If you have had the misfortune of life getting in the way of your career goals, as it sometimes does, it seems you’re screwed. So you took two years off after you finished your degree to care for your dying parent? Too bad, so sad. Oh, you thought you should be at home with your child for the years before she started school? How nice for you, but you’re degree is still expired. Your spouse got a promotion and moved across the country and you gave up a full-time position because you decided to go along too? That’s fabulous; too bad you gave up that job for some worthless adjuncting gig just so you could keep your family together.
Sorry if I sound bitter but this is just so offensive on so many levels. And the fact that committees automatically dismiss a person who works, piece-meal, as you call it, as a somehow inferior candidate is insulting. Oh, so a person who works her ass off going from school to school, teaching 5-6 (or 7 or 8 I know people who do this) classes has no redeemable value or skills worth considering? What about the ability to persevere in the face of adversity? What about dedication to a profession they love despite receiving little if any recognition for said dedication? What about the ability to adapt to and succeed in several different school cultures? What about the ability to remain organized while juggling such a crazy schedule? What about the ability to make due with limited resources, creating a course on the fly (as you may be aware, the Center for the Future of Higher Education just published a study about how many adjuncts are hired with less than two weeks’ notice, are not given access to necessary resources such as sample syllabi, textbooks, sometimes even copy machines and computers on campus and other woeful working conditions) and meeting with students despite not having an office to do it in? What about the ability to meet the needs of the different types of students (some very well-prepared for college, others who should be remediated, some traditional, some non-traditional) that we encounter at the different types of institutions where we teach? What about the ability to maintain a positive attitude and touch students’ lives despite the lack of respect and resources? What about the ability to continue reading, writing and researching so that we can stay current in our fields? What about going to conferences and participating in professional development activities that we don’t get paid for and often cost us money to attend (not to mention the time out of our busy teaching and grading schedule)? What about the ability to maintain a blog while teaching so many courses? Or writing a book? Or getting published? None of these abilities make a candidate worth looking at simply because they haven’t followed a traditional academic path (sometimes by no fault of their own it just worked out that way, after all, there is a shortage of full-time positions)? Really? It’s truly appalling.
Higher education: Caste system indeed.
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Having just been directed to this by Not of General Interest I have to say it’s opened my eyes a bit. In my last few job applications I’ve been beaten to the post either by much more senior scholars moving from their first permanent post to a better one, or else by shiny new people straight out of their Ph. Ds or nearly. That last has been a factor for a long time and I’ve always figured that it’s because I `fell off the path’ and someone who’s always been in looks as if they’re a safer bet. But it’s become more and more marked, as this year I was applying with a recent book and six articles in hand and lost of fresh teaching experience, and still not getting the gig. I work on an unpopular area, it seems, and that’s also a factor, but now I’m wondering if this that you say here isn’t it: I’m a knowable quantity. I will be needing to think hard about my presentation along the lines you suggest, in fact. Thankyou.