In our newest "Ask a search committee member" thread, Nate writes:
I earned my Ph.D. from an unranked program in 2016. My sense is that the unranked school at the top of my CV pretty much disqualifies me from R1 type schools. However, I've published a lot for someone at my career stage in an effort to overcome the unranked program that I'm coming out of. To date, I've got 11 publications. 2 are in general journals in the 15-20 range on Leiter's recent poll, a handful are in good specialty journals, and a couple are in edited volumes. Given my publishing record, though, I'm now starting to worry that I've published myself out of some of those teaching jobs.
I've had some success on the market so far. I had a fair number of interviews the past couple years, and I got a handful of offers for VAP/Postdoc jobs this past year (I'm currently in a postdoc at a med school). However, I've been pretty much shut out of the TT market. My worry is that my unranked PhD means I'm not a candidate for research jobs and my publication record means that I'm not a candidate for teaching jobs. Is this a legitimate worry? If so, what can I do?
Amanda then responded, "I will just say this – yes, unfortunately, that is a legitimate worry. Whether it is a legitimate worry for you in particular is unclear, I would have to see your CV." I think Amanda is absolutely right here. But let me try to elaborate on some of the issues that I think may be at play here, as I think it may help Nate and others make better sense of their situation as well as what they might do to be more competitive.
A while back, I floated a hypothesis about why so many people from low-ranked or unranked programs may have trouble on the market. At the time, I had encountered a number of really well-published people who just weren't getting interviews, let alone offers (including the individual whose query I was responding to). In brief, the hypothesis was that many people from lower-ranked or unranked programs might be adopting a misguided job-market strategy: the strategy of trying to publish their way into a job by getting as many high-ranked publications as possible. Here is why I suggested that is probably a bad strategy. Recent job-market data suggest a very pronounced Leiter-ranking bias in R1 programs. As you can see in this chart, it basically looks next to impossible for people from low-ranked programs to "publish their way up" to an R1.
Overwhelmingly, graduates from low-ranked or unranked programs get jobs at unranked universities–many of which are "teaching schools." But now consider someone coming out of a low-ranked program who has published up a storm. Is their CV going to look like a "good fit" for a teaching school? Answer: probably not so much – as they have "the look of a researcher." So, it seems, trying to "publish your way into a job" is probably a doubly-losing strategy for people coming out of lower or unranked programs. It's a losing strategy for getting R1 jobs (since they almost all go to people from high-ranked programs), and its a losing strategy for teaching jobs (since they are looking to hire great teachers who do some research). That, at any rate, was my hypothesis–and although it's just a hypothesis, a good number of senior people in the profession (including people who had served on search committees) indicated that it cohered with their experience.
Anyway, I thought then, and still think now, that many faculty and grad students at low-ranked and unranked programs should rethink their job-market strategy. On that note, I know a few people who came out of unranked programs that place the vast majority of their graduates (see here), and the job-market strategy their programs taught them to pursue is very different: they focus on teaching and service first, research second–and their graduates are very successful getting TT jobs at teaching institutions despite not necessarily having published very much. To wit: getting jobs, at least at "teaching schools", is not all about publishing. On the contrary, as noted above, a certain amount or kind of publishing may even count against you. What matters most for "teaching jobs", at least in my experience, is the overall look of your CV and materials. Do you "look primarily like a researcher"? Is your CV full of publications but not full of teaching experience or service? Does your research statement look really well-developed but your teaching statement and teaching portfolio average? If so, then you may not look like a great fit for teaching jobs compared to those who have fewer publications but more experience and accomplishments in teaching and service.
This may all sound depressing (and unfair) to people in Nate's situation, and I empathize: the job-market puts people in a pretty terrible trilemma, where every market strategy has serious risks. Fortunately, I don't think all is lost, particularly for Nate. First, although Amanda is right that it is hard to say without seeing his CV, Nate's description of his publishing record doesn't sound to me like it's the kind that would "scare teaching schools away." A bunch of publications in places like Nous, Mind, and PPR might very well do that–but Nate describes himself as having 11 publications, with just a a couple of top-20 publications. That might be a "yellow flag" for some people hiring at teaching schools (though I'm not even sure it would be that), but I definitely don't think it's a red flag (i.e. disqualifier). Indeed, Nate's case doesn't sound all that different from my own back when I was on the market. In my case, I had something like 14 journal publications and a book forthcoming in a top-20 press–and yet I still got plenty of interviews and flyouts at teaching schools my last few years on the market. That was a few years ago now, of course, and things may have changed, but I'd be surprised if they changed that much.
Consequently, in Nate's case, if he's having trouble being competitive for teaching schools, I suspect it might be something else. What could that something else be? Again, I can only speculate–but, having served on three search-committees, I want to reiterate something that I think is really important: the overall "feel" of one's file. Some files just come across like, "this person really conceives themselves as a researcher, and looks like they'd be a better fit for a research job." If you want a job at a teaching school, that I think is the thing to avoid.
And how to best avoid it? I'll just re-post what I posted in the past:
Have a 'teaching school' CV: one that puts teaching and university service up front, research later. I'm not sure if (as some have suggested) it would be a good idea to only include 'select publications', leaving higher-ranked publications off one's CV. I'm inclined to think it is better to be honest, but to frame the CV in a way that highlights teaching.
Work hard to tailor cover letters to teaching schools: don't go on and on about what a great researcher you are. Start out your letter by focusing on your teaching, what makes you unique as a teacher, and emphasize that although you enjoy research, you see yourself primarily as a teacher. Then make sure you your research, explaining how you would be prepared to teach courses listed in the job ad, as well as other courses in the school's curriculum (go digging on the school's website). More generally, do your homework on the school and department you are applying to, making it clear in your letter why you want to work there and don't see it as "just any job."
Work really hard on your teaching statement & innovating your teaching: I have read many teaching statements over the years, and I'll be honest, far too many of them make teaching look like an afterthought. I'll be honest: I think this can occur mostly (though not always) unintentionally. People who have never worked at a teaching school can have a hard time fully appreciating just how much people at teaching schools care about teaching, and how much thought and effort people at teaching institutions put into their pedagogy. Trust me, a candidate can say all day in their cover letter that they love teaching–but if they just say in the teaching statement that they "do Socratic dialogue" and "formulate arguments in premise-conclusion form" (and I've mentored multiple people whose teaching statements are like this), they're going to look like someone who has never given teaching much thought. In any case, they're going to look uninventive and not going to stand out from dozens of other candidates who also look like they haven't given teaching much thought.
Don't get me wrong. Some faculty at teaching schools may be "old-school" Socratic teachers (most aren't in my experience, but some are: I know one). The point is: a good teaching statement needs to work hard make you stand out in some clear and positive way. If you're a Socratic teacher, you had better try to show your reader what makes you a unique and particularly creative Socratic teacher–something that doesn't just make you look like another candidate. Far better yet, I'd say: if you're not already doing it, experiment and innovate as a teacher. My experience is that teaching innovation is pretty much expected at teaching schools–that people like seeing you push yourself and your students to do new and interesting things. So, if you want to be more competitive for teaching jobs, don't wait: experiment. I did…a lot – and I ended up getting lots of interviews at teaching schools.
Work hard on your teaching portfolio: Don't just slap together some student evaluations and a few syllabi. At R1 institutions, people appear to want to see whether you are a "genius researcher" (or perhaps, if 'the hypothesis' is right, whether the people in your Leiterific program think you're super-smart and promising). Things are very different at teaching institutions. People want to see you are a professional. Remember, people on the hiring side at teaching institutions are going to be looking at hundreds of candidates' portfolios. Many of them may look thrown together. Make sure yours is the exception–that it is impeccably well-organized, well-formatted, and includes materials (syllabi, assignments, etc.) that make you stand out as a teacher.
Expand your breadth of teaching experience as much as possible: Teaching schools often need their hires to teach particular courses. If you have past experience teaching those courses, you will have a leg up on every candidate who doesn't. Teach the widest variety of courses you can where you are.
Get involved in student activities: people at teaching schools (particularly administrators) love faculty who go above and beyond to get involved with student activities–coaching Ethics Bowl Debate teams, supervising the undergrad student club. This is especially important, I think, if you are Tim. It's a way to show someone that you want to be at a teaching school working with students, rather than someone who just wants to publish in Phil Quarterly so you can move to an R1 job.
Have a research statement that will make sense to and excite a non-specialist: People at teaching schools do care about research. But you need to appeal to your audience in your research statement at teaching schools. Don't expect people at teaching schools to be super-excited by your work on grounding, or perception, or whatever, "just because" it's a popular topic. Similarly, don't expect them to make heads or tails of what in the world you're talking about when you write super-complicated things about your project using jargon they have no familiarity with. At a teaching school, chances are the people reading your research statement are going to know little to nothing about your research area. Bring your project down to earth, making the project itself and its point as simply and intuitively as you can–in a way that any undergraduate might understand. That will not only be more likely to get the person reading more interested in you as a philosopher; it will also show them that you can simplify complex ideas in ways that will serve you well at their university as a teacher of undergraduates–both of which are very good things.
Network: getting to know people in the profession–including, yes, people at teaching schools–can't hurt. It may very well help. I've seen people from teaching schools ignored at conferences, given the cold shoulder by people who seem to regard teaching school faculty as "below them" (in fact, I've been the subject of this kind of treatment myself). Instead of just talking to "important people" at conferences, try to show interest in and treat everyone you meet at conferences well; try to get to know people on social media, reach out over email (by offering to trade papers, etc.). I know, I know – networking might feel "icky." But try not to think about it that way. Realize that you are a member of a profession, and that other members of the profession are human beings just like you–people who might actually be kind of nice, cool, and interesting you actually spend the time getting to know them. Getting to know people can not only make the discipline feel like a less-lonely, alienating place. It can make you appear more human and less of a faceless job-candidate to them.
I hope Nate and others like him find these thoughts helpful. But they are, of course, only my thoughts. What are yours?
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