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Reader query on job-market bitterness

In the comments section of Andrew Moon's recent post on getting a TT job after 8 years on the market, 'Stuck PhD' wrote:

Andrew (and Marcus, and anyone else, who's come out the other side of this journey): Congratulations! Did you have to deal with any internal bitterness after your great publications didn't seem to advance your career? If so, what did you do to deal with that bitterness? And what would your advice be to someone who just doesn't think he's committed enough to a career in philosophy to chance an 8-year journey?

My attitude toward philosophy has always been more lukewarm than that of some of my colleagues, and I'm not sure that, what for you seems to have been a worthwhile 8-year journey, would make me happy. From observing your friends, and experiencing the repeated tribulations of the market, what kind of advice could you provide?

A wonderful and important set of queries–and ones very close to my heart. I can of course only speak for myself, but let me briefly share my answers (as someone who was on the market for seven years before finally getting a TT jobs).

Question 1: "Did you have to deal with any internal bitterness after your great publications didn't seem to advance your career?"

I don't think I was ever bitter (at least not for more than a few moments here or there): "worn out to the deepest depths of my soul" is a much better description of how I felt. I worked my tail into the ground trying to get a TT job: to publish as much as I could, be the best damn teacher I could be, engage in as much service as I could, and so on. I hate to complain about my life, as these are first-world problems. But here is a fully honest tid-bit: every night when I went to bed, that was (sadly) the happiest time of my entire day–laying my head down on my pillow and (hopefully) escaping the reality of the job-market and struggle for several hours of sleep (alas, I have a sleep disorder, so that didn't always work). Much of the time, I felt like Sisyphus, rolling a boulder up a hill for no reason. But, I don't like to give up, so I didn't. I'm an absurdly optimistic fellow, with a very strong "internal locus of control." I realize the world sucks in many ways, and that all one can really control is what one does oneself–so that's what I tried to console myself with: whatever was under my control.

Question 2: "If so, what did you do to deal with that bitterness?"

The short answer is, I refused to give into bitterness. My spouse is a PhD student in a top program in Industrial-Organizational Psychology. One of the many things she has taught me (from her studies) is that things like bitterness and blaming external events (viz. having "external locus of control") are known to be maladaptive. However terrible life is, these things won't lead you where you need to go. Trust me, I know. I spent a good deal of time in graduate school frustrated and bitter–mainly because I hated "competing" and didn't want to play the professional game of networking, etc.–and it all it led me to do is play videogames, join a band, and go hang out with my mates every night. Not the best career moves. Fortunately, I learned better before it was too late.

Flash forward several years to 2011. By that time, I had spent one year in a research VAP at UBC and two years here at the University of Tampa. If you look at my CV, you'll see that by 2011 (three years post-PhD) I had published a measly two short reply pieces–not even a single full-length article. I was worried and miserable, figuring I was more or less "done" (i.e. not going to make it). I wasn't enjoying my research, as I was basically writing the kind of articles I hate writing but was encouraged to write by basically everyone (papers that one "one small step" targeting some influential argument or strand of thought in the literature)…and I remember thinking to myself, "Is this why I got into philosophy?"

Since the answer to that question was, "Um, no", I decided to just try to have fun. I mean, heck, if I wasn't going to get a tenure-track job, why stress over it so much? I figured, you know what, I'm just going to do what comes naturally to me–writing the kinds of papers that got me into grad school in the first place: big, ambitious, risky papers that were almost certainly too big for my britches. And what do you know? First of all, I started having a blast! Whereas I previously agonized over papers for months again, I started drafting maybe one paper per week just about every week on a new topic–on whatever interested me. A good number of them were worthless of course, but at least I was having a killer time writing–and indeed, honing my writing skills. Second, I found what Linus Pauling famously said, "The best way to have a good idea is to have a lot of ideas." For every ten bad ideas I wrote about, I seemed to find one good one…and I started publishing!

I also started to have fun teaching again. I started trying out research ideas in intro classes. "A New Theory of Free Will" started out when I was sick of teaching the same old compatibilism and incompatibilism, and wanted to come up with something new and fun for students to think about. "Unifying the Categorical Imperative" started out as an intro-to-ethics lecture just trying to make some sense or other of how Kant's formulas are related. Etc. Once again, fun saved the day.

I also had fun with students, coaching a few debate teams–which started to do pretty well. I've had a few proud moments as a teacher, but honestly the single best feeling I have ever had in this profession (aside from perhaps one beautiful morning that I had one lovely philosophical insight) was seeing my students win a championship going undefeated. I remember thinking to myself, "Man, you know, this is why I do this."

Long story short, the academic job-market is about as fun as burning in hell–and for a very long while I was going to bed every night trying to escape this strange life I made for myself. But what I learned, above all else, is what Elsa said, "Let it go." Try to have some fun while you can. Do philosophy in a way that feels authentic to why you got into philosophy in the first place, show up to class and have a blast playing ideas. You may get a job our of it, you might not (it certainly took me a while). Whatever the case, you just you might find that having fun and doing the best you can for its own sake makes it easier to look yourself in the mirror at the night and know that, whatever happens, you gave philosophy your best and had fun doing it.

Question 3: "And what would your advice be to someone who just doesn't think he's committed enough to a career in philosophy to chance an 8-year journey?"

Sadly, my sincere advice would be: don't do it. I think you have to truly love this stuff to keep going through it all. No, I don't buy the, "Only go to grad school if you can't imagine yourself doing anything else." If you can't imagine yourself doing anything else, you don't have a very good imagination and probably won't be able to come up with good thought-experiments anyway (just kidding!). Seriously, though, in retrospect I honestly don't know if I would advise seeking a PhD in philosophy to anyone. It has been that tough, and I'm one of the relatively lucky ones: I got a tenure track job. But none of this was what I expected. I started philosophy at age 17, and like many a naive young person figured I would have a tenure-track job well before my thirtieth birthday. I ended up (barel) tenure track job literally half of a lifetime later at the ripe old age of 38–you know about 10 years later than I thought when I started grad school (and with a ton of student debt to boot). The only thing that kept me going (besides my ridiculous undying optimism) is my love of reading, writing, and talking philosophy. This is not an over-statement. If I didn't truly love philosophy, I would have given up a long time ago.

Consequently, at least after what I've seen, I think if you do decide to hazard this life, you had better love it. Unless you are one of the rare geniuses who everyone thinks is a genius, you will go through some impossibly hard times. I've seen philosophy eat up and spit out more than a few talented grad students, and it just might spit out you. If you are going to risk that much, make sure you're doing it for something you truly love.

Okay…I guess that's all I got. My advice is: let it go my friends. Let go of the bitterness. As hard as it may be to do, just try to enjoy what you do and do the best damn job you possibly can. For better or worse, what will be will be. The world is, as we all know, an unfair, unjust, unforgiving place–but for all that, we all have precious little time on this Earth. All you can do is try your best, try to have some fun, try to turn some lemons into lemonade, and try to remain a decent human being in the process. But don't take it from me. Take it from Death-Metal Elsa:

How about the rest of you who have grappled with these issues? How would you answer Stuck, PhD's questions?

Posted in

41 responses to “Reader query on job-market bitterness”

  1. Pendaran Roberts

    “Unless you are one of the rare geniuses who everyone thinks is a genius, you will go through some impossibly hard times.”
    I’m not sure how one goes about being recognized as a genius.
    However, plausibly the only way to be recognized as a genius is to publish up a storm in the best journals.
    Jared has done this.
    Is he recognized as a genius? I don’t know, but it would strike me that anyone with any sense would have to look at his record and conclude he was some sort of genius.
    So, plausibly even being recognized as a genius isn’t enough.

    Reply
  2. UK grad student

    In response to:
    “Question 3: “And what would your advice be to someone who just doesn’t think he’s committed enough to a career in philosophy to chance an 8-year journey?”
    Sadly, my sincere advice would be: don’t do it.”
    I think (hope) this is not necessarily good advice. I’m just starting out in a PhD. There’s no way I’ll stick out 8 years on the job market afterwards – I know already that I don’t have the psychological stamina for that. If I don’t have a TT job after 5 years on the market then i’ll quit (and that’s only if I’ve had a decent post-doc during at least some of those 5 years – I won’t be adjuncting for 5 years).
    I believe there are things I can do instead of philosophy, and though it will be challenging it will by no means be impossible for me to build a career somewhere else after my PhD. (I don’t believe I’m particularly special in this regard – I don’t have uber programming skills or heaps of family money, but I’ll be like all the other people who graduate from humanities degrees, only a bit older and with a PhD rather than just a BA). However, if I stick at the job market for 8-10 years, and fail to get a philosophy job, then it will become much harder to build an alternative career – I’ll be nearing 40 if I do that, which is a hard age to begin a career at!
    This is a controversial, and I’m not sure I really believe this, but let me put it out there: I think we (or at least many of us) have a moral obligation NOT to stay on the market for the best part of a decade after grad school (particularly if we took longer than 5 years to get the PhD in the first place). If we stay on the market that long then we’re doing the following things: (1) enabling universities to rely on adjunct labour; (2) if we have family, we’re probably hurting them financially and emotionally; (3) we’re hurting ourselves, financially and emotionally: think of the huge opportunity costs we’re incurring!; (4) we’re failing to be particularly useful members of society: plausibly, mosts adjunct 8 years out of their Phd could be far more useful to society doing something else.
    My plan is to give it my all for a relatively short period of time, and then, if I fail, I’ll cut my losses and try something else. A positive side-effect of this is that I will hopefully avoid becoming too bitter.

    Reply
  3. Marcus Arvan

    Pendaran: Jared’s case is a mystery to me. So is Andrew Moon’s for that matter.

    Reply
  4. Marcus Arvan

    UK grad student: Thanks for your comment. To be honest, I think everything you say here is precisely why I would not suggest doing it unless you love philosophy to death (and perhaps not even then).
    I realize you are just starting out. I think I had similar thoughts when I was just starting out. But that’s the problem with a philosophy PhD. It can lead you down a garden-path in which you somehow find yourself in a dark place. Stuff you never expect to happen to you may happen to you during the 7-10 years in grad school (etc.), and you may find yourself hanging onto the dream (like me) when you’re 38 years old. No one goes into a PhD program wanting this or expecting it. But 7-10 years can change you. Indeed, my experience is that life in a PhD program can be one massive “transformative experience” in L.A. Paul’s sense. You just cannot know who you will be or what you will care about 7-10 years later. So, if you don’t love it death, you may find yourself in a world of hurt a decade or two later for something you didn’t even love.
    While this is just my experience, it was–again–a truly transformative one. If I knew everything I would end up going through to get where I am today, I truly don’t know if I would do it again–and (A) I got a tenure-track job, and (B) I truly love philosophy!
    I’ve seen things turn out bad for so many incredibly talented and hard-working grad-students that I just don’t think taking such an immense risk is worth it for something you don’t truly love. But this is just me talking. I had a hard go of it, and it is hard to put out of my mind the many profoundly difficult times I’ve had and the times I’ve seen others go through.

    Reply
  5. Pendaran Roberts

    “I believe there are things I can do instead of philosophy, and though it will be challenging it will by no means be impossible for me to build a career somewhere else after my PhD.”
    I want to note a few things.
    First, what you say is more true for UK PhDs, as we have shorter programs (3-4 years compared to 5-infinity). The BA and MA also takes less time in the UK. In the US you’re looking at 4 years for a BA, and then 5 years minimum for a PhD. So, that’s 9 years. In the UK you’re looking at 3 years for a BA, 1 year for an MA, and 3 years for a PhD. So, that’s 7 years. So, in the UK you’re going to be 2 years younger (if you do it all on time). That helps when trying to start a new career!
    Second, I think people underestimate the negative effect having a PhD can have on their ability to get a ‘normal’ job. If you don’t have a math and science background, there aren’t many obvious middle class jobs to apply to with just a PhD in philosophy. You’ll also be competing with people with years of experience. I am almost positive that years of experience is more valuable than a PhD for most jobs.
    And one last thing! Don’t forget about opportunity cost. You’re forgoing years of income (and raises) for a PhD, which in my opinion is largely useless.
    Anyway, I’m a bitter person (if you can’t tell!). But my advice is to quit the PhD unless you meet a few conditions (I tell everyone this):
    1. You’re really freaking good at philosophy.
    2. You love it.
    3. You have a family with money that can help you while you’re inevitably unemployed or underemployed.
    Give the previous forum topic, me might need to modify the list. Being good at philosophy may not actually be that relevant. Maybe it should be replaced with something like ‘you’re really freaking good at networking,’ or maybe just added as a 4th condition.
    Anyway, I actually met all three conditions (as I originally stated them, 1-3), and I still regret doing the PhD.
    The job market is worse than I could have ever imagined or believed!

    Reply
  6. nick

    Again, we don’t know enough about Jared to draw conclusions. He hasn’t mentioned his letters. Does anyone know him personally and would like to vouch for him as a great colleague? I personally have no idea, but pubs, even though they surely are a big factor, are not the only one.

    Reply
  7. Pendaran Roberts

    Nick, do you really think the famous people who have a huge incentive to have their NYU student employed are writing him bad letters?
    Do you really think his personality should be that relevant? Since when did we require genius philosophers to have great personalities?
    I guess Wittgenstein would be SCREWED! haha

    Reply
  8. UK grad student

    Pendaran and Marcus,
    A few things come up here.
    Marcus, from the sounds of things, loving philosophy to death might be a PROBLEM, the way you’re putting it. If one loves philosophy so much that one will forego starting alternative careers for a decade post-PhD then one probably loves it too much. One will be much saner and less bitter by the end of the whole process if, after having gotten one’s PhD one can, a few years later, cut one’s losses and move on to something else. I love philosophy, but I don’t love it to death. If I don’t get a philosophy job, I’ll get a different one. I can’t really imagine anything happening between now and when I have got my PhD that would make me think or act differently in this regard. Perhaps I’m just being unimaginative, though.
    Pendaran:
    First, yes, it’s truer of UK PhDs. I purposely didn’t apply to US PhD programmes for this exact reason. But, you know, in the grand scheme of things, 2 years isn’t that much, and a US PhD can have a career outside philosophy too (so long as they haven’t stuck at the philosophy job market for a decade AFTER getting their PhD).
    Second, I think you’re asking too much. No, you won’t (or shouldn’t) be competing for jobs with people with years of experience: you’ll be competing with people with no experience for entry-level jobs. I don’t think anyone should expect a Philosophy PhD to help them start at a higher rung on the ladder than they would have started before they got their PhD. But that’s just a reality I’m prepared to face: I’ll have to start my career later than if I hadn’t done a PhD. I regard that as part of the cost of having the privilege to do a PhD, and I won’t be bitter about it (or, at least, I hope I won’t – I shouldn’t be!).
    Third, given that I mentioned opportunity cost in my post, I think it’s safe to say I’m not forgetting about it! It’s one reason that I think staying on the market indefinitely after a PhD is not something people should do. But at the end of the day, we make calculations based on the cost we’re willing to bear. I’m willing to bear the opportunity cost of 4/5 years for the privilege of studying philosophy during that period. I’m NOT willing to bear the opportunity cost of 15 years for the privilege of studying a philosophy Phd and then adjuncting. Nor, I think, should most people be willing to bear this cost. That’s why I think it’s bad advice to say you should only do a PhD if you’re willing to spend 8 years on the job market afterwards. From my perspective, that’s exactly the sort of person that shouldn’t do a PhD – it’ll only lead to extreme pain if they don’t luck out and get a job early in the process.
    Finally, yes a PhD is largely useless if you do end up going on to a career outside academia (although perhaps not totally useless, depending on what you end up doing). But you shouldn’t do a PhD unless you see some amount of intrinsic value in the process of doing the PhD. Presumably, given that we all love philosophy, we’ve all got something good out of doing our PhD: we got to study more philosophy! (I’m NOT saying that one should do a PhD PURELY for the intrinsic value, of course, unless one is just really rich and doesn’t need to think about careers. Of course I acknowledge that an academic job has to be the chief aim.)
    To sum up, I think you should only do a PhD if you’re willing to accept that it may not lead to an academic job, and therefore you are willing to pay the potential opportunity cost for the privilege of studying philosophy for a few more years. If you’re going to be unwilling to start from the beginning in a different career, surrounded by people several years younger than you, then you probably shouldn’t do the PhD. And, if you’re going to be unwilling to step away from philosophy in the event that you don’t get an academic job, because you love philosophy so damn much, then, perhaps counterintuitively, you probably shouldn’t do a PhD – as it could end up destroying you and leading to uncontrollable bitterness.
    To sum up, the best way to avoid bitterness is to go into philosophy with your eyes open at the start. I realise that this answer is not very useful for those who’ve already done their PhDs. To them I’d say: decide how long you’re willing to hang around, setting a definite date after which you’ll pursue something else. Hanging around indefinitely is a recipe for every increasing bitterness! But what do I know… I’m just starting this whole thing!

    Reply
  9. Not usually anonymous

    This doesn’t answer the bitterness issue, but I’ve been on hiring committees recently for both research and teaching oriented positions, and unfortunately, the bad news is that there are aren’t just a few people like Jared, Pendaran and Warren. There are a lots of people without permanent jobs that have publication records that would’ve likely gotten them tenure at R1 institutions in the past.
    And in some cases – people with lots of pubs but not a lot of teaching experience – their odds of getting a job aren’t obviously better than someone with lots of teaching experience but virtually no pubs. I know that doesn’t explain anything about these three cases, I’m just speaking in general. (Also: I do seem to recall in Jared’s case that his teaching experience was limited primarily to intro to logic, but perhaps that has changed). I don’t think this is a problem for research oriented positions, but for teaching oriented ones, this won’t likely be enough.
    There are also some areas (logic is one) where there just aren’t many jobs – and specializations in which only fancy research schools tend to hire. For those, having a punch of publications no longer makes you stand out, unfortunately.

    Reply
  10. Marcus Arvan

    UK Grad Student: Thanks for your thoughtful follow-up. Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough about my view here. I did not mean to suggest that love of philosophy (of the sort I have) is a good thing. I did not even mean to suggest that it is a good reason to seek a PhD in philosophy. All I meant to say is that I don’t think the enormous hazards of seeking a career in philosophy are worth risking unless you truly love it–in large part because the hazards (even for whose who don’t love it like I do) are so enormous, and the success rates (of finishing the degree and getting a TT job) are small.
    My only point was: if you are going to take a risk this big in life, don’t do it for something you merely sort of enjoy. An analogy: there are risks I would take (e.g. putting my life on the line) for my wife that I might not take for a stranger. Why? Because I love her. By a similar token, I know professional musicians who have spent their entire lives in music–in many cases not being very successful–because they love it. Had they not loved it so much, I don’t think even they would say it would be worthwhile, given the risks. I also know a professional baseball player who made it to the major leagues for a day. I don’t think he would say the risks were worth hazarding if he didn’t love the game so much. Maybe love of this sort is irrational (and in some cases harmful). My thought is that perhaps so, but it is the only thing that might make an otherwise irrational thing worth doing.
    Anyway, I will be honest with you. I have gone back and forth many times–and still often do–on whether my love of philosophy is a blessing or a curse. Most of the time, I suspect it is both. There are times I despise ever have discovered philosophy. But there are times I feel it is my life’s calling. It is the ladder that kept me going, and keeps me going today–and I cannot personally imagine having survived the “game” of philosophy without it.

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  11. Marcus Arvan

    UK Grad Student: Quick follow-up on the opportunity cost issue. I think the fact that just about everyone who goes into philosophy says, “Don’t do it unless you can’t imagine doing anything else”, should really tell you something. It is that basically everyone who has gone through it (the PhD and job-market) recognizes that the opportunity costs aren’t worth it if you merely “like” philosophy. I would suggest taking epistemic testimony like this very seriously. I didn’t when starting grad school–and I wish I did.

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  12. UK grad student

    Marcus, I’m a bit suspicious of the ‘don’t do it unless you can’t imagine doing anything else’ line. I think people say it for various reasons: some because they’ve had a genuinely terrible time, or seen others have a genuinely terrible time (but, as I’ve made clear, I don’t think I’ll have a terrible time because I think I’ll get out before it all gets too terrible: I won’t do 6 job market years in a row!); some because they have some mixed-up notion that only those who are positively ascetic in their love of philosophy should have the right to do philosophy; some because they’ve never experienced a job outside academia and don’t realise that, actually, academic jobs are pretty cushy compared to most jobs in the real world (where, partly depending on your industry, sexism, various other prejudices, unfairness etc. all exist too – everyone tends to think the grass is greener, don’t they? I’ve worked outside academia btw).
    So, while I don’t write off that testimony altogether, I don’t fully trust it either (esp. because, as I think you said, taken literally, it’s ridiculous. Who really can’t imagine doing anything else?!)
    I also think there’s a question over the extent to which you can know just how much you love something. Hasn’t Williamson, along with empirical work, taught us that our mental states are not luminous?! When I start to think about how much I love philosophy I begin to get puzzled. Do I love it as much as I love various other hobbies? Do I love it enough to risk x on it? I dunno! I like it a lot. It’s not something one can easily quantify.
    I think my bottom lines are just these: (1) don’t stick in philosophy for very long after your PhD if you’ve not yet got a TT job. Taking this decision limits what you lose by doing a PhD, because it limits the amount of time you spend doing it. It thus improves the opportunity-cost to intrinsic value ratio. And (2) go into the PhD with your eyes open. Know your chances of getting a job (no excuse for not doing this, given how much info. is out there), make sure you’re OK with that, and plan accordingly. And (3), related to (1), don’t be scared about just quitting philosophy, post-PhD, and starting a career elsewhere. Yes, you’ll have to endure entry-level work for a few years, but that’s life, and it’s not worth spiralling into a bitter, broke, despairing situation by adjuncting indefinitely to avoid it. Plenty of people are in FAR WORSE positions aged, say, 34, than someone who’s got a degree but no work experience. Some perspective is needed.

    Reply
  13. Marcus Arvan

    UK grad student: I will be frank. I appreciate what you are saying, but given that I had similar views as yours two decades ago, I’m very skeptical.
    I will tell you this: I don’t think people say “don’t go into philosophy unless you can’t imagine doing anything else” because they have some strange ascetic notion in mind. I think that was my thought about them too when I was younger–but I now think it is false. I think the reason that people say that is either (A) they’ve suffered immensely as a result of going into philosophy (of whom I’m one), and or (B) they’ve seen all too many other people suffer similarly (I also fall into this category). I think it is big mistake to speculate that people aim to deter others from going into philosophy out of some strange form of asceticism. My experience is that people say it because they’ve seen (and in many/most cases felt) the serious consequences of their own previous naivete. Trust me, I don’t say any of this lightly. I say it because I truly believe that people have no idea what they are truly getting into in seeking a PhD. I didn’t. The other people I know who didn’t make it through my program didn’t. The angry people on philosophy messageboards didn’t. And so on.
    Another thing: I am very skeptical of invoking abstract philosophical ideas (viz. Williamson on luminosity) in these types of contexts. Quite frankly, I think the level of abstractness in a lot of philosophy is dangerous–no more so (perhaps) than here. Life is a not a game that conforms nicely to abstract philosophical arguments. I don’t think mental states are “luminous” (or whatever), and I don’t think whether they are has anything to do with whether grad school is a good idea for anyone. What is relevant is all of the suffering I felt and have seen. As melodramatic as I may seem in some of these comments, I honestly cannot express how difficult this path has been for me–or for a good number of other people I have seen and known. Grad school starts off all nice and fun: you do coursework, comp exams, whatever. Then things can change–in ways that are difficult to understand unless you have been there. Like many other people I knew, I was fine until I got to the dissertation stage–then everything went to pot (so to speak). I did nothing but play videogames and music for two years because–or so it seemed–no matter how much I read or thought, I couldn’t come up with a good dissertation topic. I got down, lost confidence, made bad decisions, disappeared from my department, etc. I went into debt. And I thought I had no job-prospects of any sort. And I wasn’t the only one, not by a long-shot. I’ve known so many grad students that have gone through similar things–and a good number of them never made it through.
    I’m telling these stories because I think people need to know this. When people say academic philosophy is a “hard road”, they are not being melodramatic. And, I think, when say “don’t do it unless you can’t imagine anything else”, they mean it because they don’t want to see happen to you what happened to them or (worse still) what happened to other people they knew for whom things turned out far worse.

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  14. Marcus Arvan

    UK grad student: A quick follow-up.
    You write: “don’t be scared about just quitting philosophy, post-PhD, and starting a career elsewhere.”
    My reply: it’s so much easier to say things like this when you haven’t yet been through the things I’ve been describing. Philosophy may “become your life”, and however much you say it now, it may be very difficult for you to leave it after you’ve invested 5-10 years doing nothing else. If it were so easy–if people needn’t be so afraid–then why do so many people find themselves down the same garden-path? (Answer: because you really can’t know how you will respond or what your priorities will be 5-10 years later. The best you can do is find out from people who went through it themselves how their priorities changed, and whether they found transitioning out of academic so easy and not to be feared).
    On that note, you write: “Some perspective is needed.”
    I reply: Indeed, but ask yourself which type of person has the more informed perspective on things–the people who have actually been through PhD programs and the job market, or someone (such as yourself) who is just beginning?

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  15. Marcus Arvan

    I want to be clear that I am not saying these things to be dismissive. I vividly remember Dan Dennett saying similar things to me as an undergrad student that I am saying to you right now. I shrugged them off, thinking “how bad could it be?”. Well, it was really bad. But I suspect these are perennial issues with life that will never be resolved. What seems rational or sensible from one perspective (in one’s youth) can seem irrational or insensible from another (one’s older age). Perhaps all we can do is tell stories–which is why this is what I have been doing. 🙂

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  16. UK grad student

    This’ll be my last post in this thread, because I realise we’re a bit off-topic.
    Marcus, I’m not totally sure what we’re disagreeing on here. My initial disagreement was with your advice that if you’re not committed enough to spend 8 years on the job market, you shouldn’t do a PhD. I think that’s wrong, because I think no one should be committed enough to spend 8 years on the job market. Its precisely because I take seriously how awful it is to spend that amount of time in a state of uncertainty and insecurity that I say this. I’m not sure if you’re disagreeing with me on this.
    You seem to suggest I’m underplaying how difficult and awful the PhD and post-PhD experience can be. I don’t think I am. On the one hand, I agree it can be awful, hence my above claim. And I totally support you in putting out here the bad experiences you and other have had. I find this site just wonderful.
    On the other hand, I do think we need some perspective. (I’m glad you’re not being melodramatic when you say it’s a hard road, but perhaps you were being melodramatic when you said it’s as fun as burning in hell?) It actually occurred to me after I posted last time that no one has ever told me I shouldn’t go into philosophy unless I can’t imagine doing anything else! I’ve just seen it posted on the internet a few times. The majority of post-docs, late-stage PhDs and other early career philosophers I’ve spoken to face to face have been broadly positive, and none of them have tried to put me off doing a PhD. Granted, people don’t like to be negative face-to-face, but, equally, the internet is not a particularly good source of testimony. I think people who have had a bad time are more likely to go online and post about their experiences than people who have had a good time are, so the internet tends to be a fairly skewed source of testimony (that’s not to say I totally discount the testimony, of course). Doing a PhD in philosophy is not a bad path for everyone who can imagine doing anything else, contrary to what perusing the internet might suggest.
    The luminosty thing: it’s empirically well established, there’s nothing particularly abstract about it. Of course life’s not a game; I wasn’t being frivolous in bringing it up – apologies if it seemed so. On the contrary, I was introspecting and finding it hard to tell whether I truly love philosophy in the way you seem to suggest I must if I am to be wise in continuing with philosophy.
    Also, again, there’s a bit of a US-UK difference in experience going on here. In the UK you devise your research topic before entering the PhD. So, in general, there’s less chance of one spending 2 years searching for a topic once one’s in the programme.

    Reply
  17. Marcus Arvan

    Uk grad student: Fair enough, and I’m sorry if I was being obtuse/frustrating. As with most things, it can be be difficult to hear things properly on emotional topics (which, for obvious reasons, this topic is for me).
    I appreciate the discussion, and don’t think it is off-topic at all. One way to prepare for job-market bitterness (the topic of the OP) is to share perspectives on the very things we have been discussing: (a) how bad things can be, (b) whether truly loving something is necessary to make opportunity costs worth risking, and so on–i.e. the very things you and I have been discussing (and perhaps, at least in my case, inadvertently talking past you).
    Once again, sorry if I was being obtuse!

    Reply
  18. Very recent hire

    Completely agree with Marcus here. My philosophy career so far has been way more lucky than pretty much everyone else’s I know (got a TT job while haven’t even defended, after a couple of months on the market), but no — don’t do it unless you absolutely love it. It will change you, and you might not know how. And it will be hard, very hard at times. You will doubt yourself, your own thoughts, your abilities, your friends, your advisors….
    I’ve always considered myself a person who is not likely to be very affected by difficulties with her job, who can keep everything on the rational level. I was very wrong, and basically everyone I know in the profession has gone through these phases while in grad school and on the market. Whether you are planning to stay in academia or not, the whole process will involve enormous sacrifices for you, your family, and your friends and it’s simply not worth it unless you really, really like what you are doing. And even then, there will be times when you will just hate it.

    Reply
  19. nick

    Pendaran: respectable people at top places may not want to embarrass themselves compromising their reputation recommending someone whose personality they have serious issues with. (Assuming that’s the case; I don’t know)
    As for personality being relevant, well, yes. Do you want to work with insufferable people? This includes committees, advising, seminars, shared responsibilities and teaching students whose time and money you might be wasting. No one is saying he’s not an outstanding philosopher; he clearly is. He might even be great at teaching logic. Again, I have no idea. The question is what grounds he has to objecting not being hired as a professional philosopher. Totally different matter. We can only speculate, but people do know his case better than most people do here, and again, you just can’t rule out a red flag in the dossier.
    As a more general remark, it’s ironic how people complain about hiring being based on prestige and pubs and then, when this doesn’t work out, complain that it doesn’t.

    Reply
  20. Pendaran Roberts

    Uk grad student: I think Marcus is right about this
    “What seems rational or sensible from one perspective (in one’s youth) can seem irrational or insensible from another (one’s older age).”
    One of the reasons for this is probably that when you’re in your 20s you have different desires than you do when you’re in your 30s. When I first went to grad school I wasn’t married, I didn’t care about owning a house, living somewhere nice, having income security, and so on. I was basically a kid really.
    However, now that I’m 33 I care about all these things. I’m married. I have to juggle my life and my wife’s life. I feel I have a lot of responsibilities I did not feel I had when I was 25. I see friends with jobs making good incomes, buying homes, and so on, while I make little and rely on other people. It’s a horrible feeling, especially when you’ve worked so hard for so little.
    Over the years in grad school, and especially after with the job market, I struggled with depression, anxiety, and all sorts of horrible emotions. They were due to many things but are all fundamentally due to the frustrations of being a young academic in this job market and overall environment.
    You think right now that if you don’t find a job in academia you’ll just quit after a few years and search elsewhere. Well, that’s basically what I’ve decided to do. I’m not giving my life to philosophy when the discipline doesn’t seem to give much back to me. Thus, this is my last year trying. However, despite having the attitude that I’m not sitting around hoping for 8 years, it’s still very hard and the opportunity cost has been extreme.
    I’m not you UK grad and neither is Marcus. And it may be that doing a PhD really is the right decision for you. However, Marcus and I are just sharing our experience. We want you to know what you’re getting into.
    Look at my philpapers page. You’ll agree I have a very strong CV. I only have a part time job though that runs out in a few months. I’d say my chances of getting something better are less than 50 percent. That’s the reality of this job market. Look at Jared and Andrew. I’m not a single case here. Others on hiring committees have posted in saying that there are many cases like ours.
    Ask yourself some further questions. Are you a good networker? Can you do what’s required to get a job, are you willing to do it? I really don’t think even if you’re a good philosopher that that’s enough. You need to be organizing conferences, meeting every freaking academic in the UK. You need to be remembered by them. You need to be an affable cool chap. This isn’t a merit based system where smart philosophers compete based on their philosophical abilities alone.
    Part of my bitterness is no one explained to me how BAD the job market really is. Maybe it would have been impossible, as it’s really not imaginable to most people. I was totally naive and thought if I did well in the PhD, published in good places, and so on that I would get a job. That’s false. I fell flat of on freaking face! There aren’t enough jobs for everyone with merit. A fortiori, the deciding factor often and unfortunately isn’t merit.
    So, consider this my fulfilling for you the duty I wish others had fulfilled for me: Don’t do a PhD. It’s very likely to destroy years of your life.
    The Smashing Pumpkin’s song Mayonnaise could have been about the consequences of a philosophy PhD.
    Mother weep the years I’m missing
    All our time can’t be given
    Back
    Shut my mouth and strike the demons
    That cursed you and your reasons
    Out of hand and out of season
    Out of love and out of feeling

    Reply
  21. Marcus Arvan

    Thanks for sharing, Pendaran. I appreciate the frank honesty and think the more stories people share, the better. Fwiw, ‘Mayonaise’ is probably my favorite Pumpkins song, so you and I seem to be kindred spirits there.

    Reply
  22. Pendaran Roberts

    Smashing Pumpkins is one of my favorite bands of all time.
    I also love modest mouse. They’re very philosophical. Also very depressing. You have to be careful listening to them. HA!
    Nothing to do with the topic. Just sharing. Kind of like Mayonaise in some ways.


    Reply
  23. Pendaran Roberts

    That MM song ‘World at Large’ I linked to could also be more or less about the struggles of being a young academic, especially these lines:
    Well uh-uh baby I ain’t got no plan.
    We’ll float on maybe would you understand?
    Gonna float on maybe would you understand?
    Well float on maybe would you understand?
    The days get shorter and the nights get cold.
    I like the autumn but this place is getting old.
    I pack up my belongings and I head for the coast.
    It might not be a lot but I feel like I’m making the most.
    The days get longer and the nights smell green.
    I guess it’s not surprising but it’s spring and I should leave.
    I like songs about drifters – books about the same.
    They both seem to make me feel a little less insane.
    Walked on off to another spot.
    I still haven’t gotten anywhere that I want.

    Reply
  24. Pendaran Roberts

    And these line too are very salient (isn’t music great!)
    The moths beat themselves to death against the lights.
    Adding their breeze to the summer nights.
    Outside, water like air was great.
    I didn’t know what I had that day.
    Walk a little farther to another plan.
    You said that you did, but you didn’t understand.
    I know that starting over is not what life’s about.
    But my thoughts were so loud I couldn’t hear my mouth.
    My thoughts were so loud I couldn’t hear my mouth.
    My thoughts were so loud.

    Reply
  25. nick

    Pendaran: I would advise against coming across as too bitter publicly, if only for prudential reasons, assuming you’re not definitely giving up on academia. Using your real name here and persisting to accuse the system of (real or imagined) faults is not gonna help. But if’ve really decided to give up, then I sympathize with you and wish you the best.

    Reply
  26. recent grad

    Here’s my story:
    I have a TT job that I got one year out of grad school. I’m not from a fancy program, though I am from a decent enough one. I like philosophy, but I don’t love it. (I say this with hesitation though, since I agree with UK grad that it’s not easy to know whether you love it or not. At the very least, I don’t love academic analytic philosophy. I might love philosophy in a broad humanistic sense.) So, it’s possible to get a TT job without loving it and without being a star. I recognize I’m very lucky in this regard.
    Here are some thoughts about my attitude to the profession, both now and along the way.
    Research:
    I would likely not read in my AOS anymore if I were not in academia. This isn’t to say that I don’t like my AOS while in academia, just that it’s not something that keeps me up at night. I chose it because I was tired of the game-playing in other areas and I was skeptical of the epistemic grounds of many areas of philosophy. I have some clever ideas and I feel like I’m good at selling them. I’m a persistent worker, both now and in grad school, but I very rarely put in any of those crazy long days people talk about. I think letting others see my work helped improve it very efficiently.
    Teaching:
    I really enjoy teaching if it goes well–those days are the best part of my job–but it often doesn’t go well and it’s a drag when it doesn’t. I feel like I can be a creative teacher and I’m very clear, but I just don’t have the energy when the students aren’t engaged with the material (it might be partly my fault, I know).
    Attitude:
    I think what allowed me to succeed without a love for philosophy are two things: general stoicism and a love for the lifestyle. Re: the latter, I know Marcus is against going into academia because you like the lifestyle. And I would probably advise against it as well. But I was ignorant when I got in and I didn’t realize that I didn’t love it. By the time I was ABD, I knew I didn’t love it, but I figured I’d give it my best shot because I hate to work and I love to travel. As for the stoicism, I knew intellectually that the job market was awful, but it didn’t affect me the way it affects others. I just kept working. There was a couple month period when I fell into mild anxiety/depression, but I generally just said “screw it, I’ll do something else if it doesn’t work out”. I would have left after two years post-PhD, so I think that helped. Also, I have no kids and no debt, which no doubt also helped.
    Take this for what it’s worth.

    Reply
  27. Pendaran Roberts

    Nick, if people want to take revenge on me for expressing my feelings and my situation that’s their choice. Really I wouldn’t want to be involved with those kinds of people anyway.
    I have a moral obligation to warn people and if I do so anonymously it’ll have little impact. With my name people can verify my record.

    Reply
  28. Pendaran Roberts

    Nick, I think it’s ironic that I got a warning from the guy defending the system, you, that the system might hurt me for expressing honestly my feelings.
    If anything these kinds of concerns only support those of us who claim the system doesn’t work correctly.
    ‘respectable people at top places may not want to embarrass themselves compromising their reputation recommending someone whose personality they have serious issues with.’
    They would just say they couldn’t write a letter then. If people are screwing Jared over without telling him that’s not a defense of the system.
    And no, I don’t think personality is relevant. Learn to get along with people. Why do people all need to have ‘perfect’ personalities?
    Honestly, that’s just boring, and I think will result in boring philosophy.

    Reply
  29. Marcus Arvan

    Pendaran: whether personality is “relevant” is a matter of perspective. I can tell you that it is very much relevant to people on the hiring side – and they are the ones who decide whether a person gets a job. I don’t think we should all have perfect personalities. However, toxic personalities can very much destroy a work environment. My spouse specializes in the empirical science of this stuff. A well-functioning work place is important, and employers have every reason when hiring to ensure and promote a healthy, productive environment. I don’t think shouting at the wind (i.e. criticizing parts of the world that will never change) is very productive. This is the way the world is. We are human beings, and human beings determine what is relevant in hiring. That is the reality, like it or not.

    Reply
  30. Pendaran Roberts

    I mean a toxic personality is one thing. That sounds extreme. But not hiring someone for their personality in most cases just sounds silly. Someone might be a low serotonin kind of guy who isn’t very happy or affable, maybe kind of irritable, but a genius. Who cares if you don’t really want to get a beer with him?
    Basically I think personality is relevant to a degree. You wouldn’t hire a psychopath! But for the most part 99% of people can be got along with. You don’t need all your employees/colleagues to be the kinds of people who would be your best friends.
    So hiring based on personality is okay to a degree but it’s inappropriate I think to go so far as to disqualify someone with a great record cause they aren’t the kind of person you’d want to be friends with. You’re hiring a philosopher not a friend!

    Reply
  31. Marcus Arvan

    Pendaran: toxic is also a matter of perspective. And I think you are just plain wrong about being able to get along with 99% of people. Anyone who has ever been a part of a department meeting, faculty senate, etc. will tell you that toxic individuals are a dime a dozen, and that just a few semi-toxic people can ruin a department or college. Because the consequences of hiring a bad person can be so large, it can make sense to take great care in hiring.

    Reply
  32. Pendaran Roberts

    Marcus, I guess we aren’t going to agree on this. Because I think you are ‘just plain wrong’. That’s okay! We don’t need to agree on everything!
    I think this attitude you’re expressing is wrong and dangerous. If one can’t get along with 99% of people one is not very good at getting along with people.
    I’ve never met someone I couldn’t get along with. I’ve met people I don’t like, people I don’t want as friends, people who I find really annoying, even immoral. However, it’s just not that hard to get along with most people, as long as you’re willing to try a little.
    At most this talk of personality I think is just an excuse to discriminate against people who have different views and perspectives of the world generally. This is unfortunate, because we’d be better off if we didn’t throw out half the data, so to speak.

    Reply
  33. Marcus Arvan

    Pendaran: I am sympathetic with your suggestion that taking personality too much into account is dangerous. Indeed, I have said as much before on this blog: http://philosopherscocoon.typepad.com/blog/2015/01/nobody-wants-to-hire-weirdos.html
    My point is that it is simply the reality, and probably always will be as long as there are human beings. If life and my spouse have taught me one thing, it is that yelling at the wind is at best a waste of time and at worst harmful. The wind simply doesn’t care how much we complain about it, or the injustice of having it blow off our hats.
    The sensible thing when the wind blows is to better secure your hat. The profession will never change from people complaining from the outside. It will be changed by those on the inside. One has to pick and choose one’s battles, including when to fight them. I fear right here, right now it is a losing one. Personally, I like “weirdos.” I’m kind of one myself. But I’ve also had to knock off a few of my rough edges (not always very well) in order to get a job that I can push slowly and consistently for changes I want to see from inside of the profession. We do not live in an ideal world where people behave and value the things we wish they would. Change in a nonideal world like ours happens slowly, and if one wants to see it happen one needs to do things to put oneself in a position to be able to make incremental changes, That can require working on one’s own personality and behavior to change how one comes off to others, so that one can get a job. You may not like this idea–of changing and compromising one’s behavior and personality to get a in. And once again, in an ideal world I might even agree with you. But we are not in an ideal world.

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  34. Marcus Arvan

    All that being said, I still think it is legitimate and appropriate to not hire toxic people–and that toxic people are far more common in and dangerous to a university environment than you might think. Another issue is that toxic people rarely seem to recognize that they are toxic–so again, the reality is that people make these judgments and want to avoid hiring people they think may be toxic.

    Reply
  35. Early Career

    Marcus: Out of interest, do you think that there is a risk that any of the participants on this thread come across as ‘toxic’ (in the way you think of it)?

    Reply
  36. Marcus Arvan

    Early Career: I don’t think that’s an appropriate question for this blog, given its mission. This is supposed to be a supportive place. I think–despite some complaining and disagreement–that this thread has respected that mission. I’m sure there are people I annoy. Our forum here is not to determine (or “out”) who is or is not “toxic”, which I do not think would satisfy our safe and supportive mission at all. But I think our forum very much is a place to discuss these general issues, including what people on the hiring side of things plausibly care about.
    For my part, I don’t think there is any sort of objective human-being-toxicitometer. Everyone has their own views of what comprises toxicity in human relationships and the workplace. My own personal views are not, I think, relevant to or appropriate for discussion here.

    Reply
  37. Pendaran Roberts

    “My point is that it is simply the reality, and probably always will be as long as there are human beings. If life and my spouse have taught me one thing, it is that yelling at the wind is at best a waste of time and at worst harmful. The wind simply doesn’t care how much we complain about it, or the injustice of having it blow off our hats.”
    I disagree with this reasoning. All positive change was the result of people ‘yelling into wind.’ Using your reasoning, we’d still have slaves.

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  38. Pendaran Roberts

    “Our forum here is not to determine (or “out”) who is or is not “toxic”, which I do not think would satisfy our safe and supportive mission at all. But I think our forum very much is a place to discuss these general issues, including what people on the hiring side of things plausibly care about.”
    I wanted to just acknowledge that I really respect your mission and this blog. I think it’s great. And it’s a big help to me to be able to share.

    Reply
  39. Marcus Arvan

    Pendaran: We will have to agree to disagree. I don’t think slavery was overthrown by people yelling at the wind. I think it was overthrown by people taking action. In my view, the two are very different.

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  40. Pendaran Roberts

    “We will have to agree to disagree. I don’t think slavery was overthrown by people yelling at the wind. I think it was overthrown by people taking action. In my view, the two are very different.”
    Interesting view. I think slavery was ended in part due to public complaints/protests/and the like, and these public verbal ‘yelling’ activities started in a time where the goal of the advocates seemed hopeless.
    Anyway, I think we’re getting off topic! haha!

    Reply
  41. nick

    Godwin’s law. Guys, we’re getting close.

    Reply

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