The Philosophers' Cocoon

I came across this blog post yesterday, "The Worst Advice Grad Students Get", and thought it touches on issues that might be worth discussing here. According to the author, one of the worst pieces of advice grad students get is to focus on the dissertation and leave publishing for later. She describes a case where she received interest in her dissertation from an editor at a prestigious academic press, and a faculty member told her not to follow up.

No, no, no, Faculty Mentor said. Your dissertation is not done, and a dissertation is not a book. “Keeping in touch” would end up making me look foolish, because I would end up wasting everyone’s time—the editor’s as well as the potential readers’. Better to do nothing so as not to embarrass myself (and, potentially, my mentor). 

The author then relates that after heeding her mentor's advice, she was never able to interest the editor in her work again. She seems to have received bad–very bad–advice.

I've heard similar things–of grad students at top-ranked programs being told not to publish while in grad school because it (1) gives them an air of mystery (viz. "This person might be a genius!"), and (2) provides them time to make sure their work is truly awesome before they (finally) publish it later on, preferably in some place like Mind or Phil Review.

I actually don't think this is terrible advice…if you attend a "top-5" place like Rutgers, NYU, or what have you. In compiling data on this year's hires and 2012 hires, I found that a significant number of people obtained tenure-track jobs in philosophy with zero publications. But, you guessed it, almost all of them came from top-5 programs. In other words, if you're in one of those programs, "don't publish" seems to be good advice–but if you're not, it's not.

Interestingly, the author says that, in her view, the single worst piece of advice she received in grad school is not to have a baby. 

I heard it on the first day of grad school, and many times after: Don’t have a baby while you’re here. No one will think you’re serious. It’ll kill your career. Better to wait until you’re in a postdoc or, better yet, have tenure. 

Long story short, the author found herself in grad school for the better part of a decade, and then on the job market for 6 years…and poof, she is now in her late 30s, she has fertility issues, and has unable to have a child. So while, yes, while having children while in grad school has its risks–maybe people will take you less seriously–the risks of not doing so may be far, far greater. (Side-note: I've known people–men and women–who had children in grad school, and it didn't seem to harm their careers).

I also like another piece of bad advice the author shares: "Go to the best grad school that accepts you, even if that means no funding." In my view, this is terrible advice for several reasons. First, as the author notes, it promises to leave you in a heap of debt, and you might not even finish your program, let alone land a decent-paying job after grad school. Another reason that it's bad advice, in my view, is that there is so much more to picking a grad program than its ranking or placement record. I've known people who went to low-ranked programs, enjoyed their time in grad school, and are doing splendidly. I also know people who went to top-ranked programs with good placement records, meshed with no one in their program, did not enjoy grad school at all, etc. Long story short, a program may be great, but if you're not happy there–for whatever reason (it's in a boring town, you don't mesh with personalities in the department, it's a generally hostile and unsupportive place)–going to that program can be an awful choice. You may well be better off going to a lower-ranked department with people (grad students and faculty) you gel with (though it is still a good idea to go to a place with a good placement record, which some lower-ranked programs do have).

One piece of advice the author endorses which I do not is, "Go to the best grad school that will give you a free ride and fit your interests." I don't endorse this piece of advice for two reasons. The first is the one I just gave: you shouldn't just go to the best program that gives you a free ride. You should look at programs carefully, taking into account things (department climate, how well you seem to mesh with faculty, etc.) besides rankings. Second, I think it is a bad idea to prioritize your philosophical interests when thinking about grad school. Because I suspect many people will find this surprising/disagree with it, let me explain my rationale in some detail.

I've always been puzzled by the emphasis that prospective students and grad programs both place on incoming students' philosophical interests. Let's think about this a bit. Many prospective students have just finished their undergraduate degree. Consequently, their philosophical training is likely to be quite narrow. When I was an undergraduate, I focused on the philosophy of mind, Wittgenstein, and existentialism. So, quite naturally, when I applied to grad school, I looked for places that were good in philosophy of mind (my strongest interest). I then got into a program with a faculty member whose work on philosophy of mind I enjoyed…yet once I got there I found that our department had spectacular people in metaphysics (something I had little background in), and I basically lost all interest in philosophy of mind. Then, when I transferred to Arizona (to do metaphysics, presumably), I took some courses in moral and political philosophy…and decided I no longer had much of a taste for metaphysics.

In my experience, this kind of stuff happens, and happens a lot. Graduate school should be a place to find out what you're philosophically interested in. If you apply to (and then attend) a department because you're interested in X and its faculty are great at X, what's going to happen if you lose interest in X, get interested in Y, and the faculty at the program aren't great at Y? You guessed it, you have a tough choice to make. You can either keep working in X (even though you no longer enjoy it), you can start working in Y (even though the faculty in your program aren't great at it), or you can transfer to another program. None of these are very good options…and I've seen many a grad student face them. Don't be one of them! You should try to go to a graduate program with breadth–with faculty that are good and well-established in many different areas. This is one of the reasons I'm glad I went to Arizona. There are strong faculty there in the philosophy of mind, experimental philosophy, ancient philosophy, philosophy of science, history of philosophy, philosophy of language, moral and politcal philosophy, etc. 

Anyway, these are just some of my thoughts about "bad grad school advice." What are yours? Are there any particularly bad pieces of advice that you received or have seen others receive that might be worth sharing? If so, share away!