Averageness is a statistical concept, but often it becomes a normative one. Once you establish a bell curve, you can start looking for the exceptional and unusual, as for example Galton's quest for "nature's preeminently nobles" in eugenics, and this becomes the new norm. In academia, averageness is bad. We all need to be exceptional: exceptionally productive researchers who publish in the right venues, gifted teachers.
The drive for exceptionalism is toxic. People who go to graduate schools and write doctoral dissertations are already exceptional and gifted in academic talent, but if you find yourself in a pool of such people, it's hard to stand out. Eric Schliesser estimated in 2014 there are 44,000 philosophers alive worldwide. Yet just a few names keep on popping up.
We rely on heuristics and shortcuts to recognize brilliance, because it would be unfeasible to read everyone's work in detail. So we use prestige (as I've argued earlier, see also here) as a shortcut, or gender (although, I do have to say that situation has markedly improved over the years.) Still, even if somehow we had total gender parity and prestige bias could be mitigated the drive for exceptionalism remains. There are exceptional people deserving of recognition, of mention on blogs, of prizes, of symposia at the APA devoted to their books. And then there's all the rest. Whatever shortcuts we will use to gauge exceptionalism, as long as the drive for it persists (and given the job structure of academia, I do not see this change any time soon), that belief will remain.
I recently was talking to someone about their writing habits, and found these fascinating. I asked this person if they wanted to contribute a piece to the Cocoon for our How Philosophers Write series. They asked, "But am I good enough? Is my writing good enough for me to talk about it?" And similarly, I asked someone to contribute to the Cocoon for our unusual teaching series, and they turned me down, saying, "But my teaching idea [which was a totally wonderful, cool idea btw] isn't exceptional or unusual enough." So engrained is this idea that "I'm not good enough" people are afraid to put themselves out there. Because their papers do not bear the markers of prestige (most often, the venue) and because their teaching is not steeped in recognition for its exceptionality, it means it's really not good enough.
The exceptionalism comes with goalpost shifting: it seems that having a permanent job is the holy grail for job candidates, but is it good enough? V. Alan White's public philosophy profile has the following bio:
I'm pretty much a no-name in the profession. Yes, I have my satiric Philosophy Songs page, and some pubs here and there (and even some Tier 1 ones), but at most I'm an afterthought as a 4/4 teacher–scholar. But I'm okay with that–given that my parents never even got to high school–I think I can rule my life a good one. Those better and younger philosophers who these days can't even get interviews–I do feel their pain as someone who went through a similar experience (the JPF for my eventual job offer in '81 was 2-pages on one double-sided sheet)–so I know better than anyone that luck (good old Nagel) is a major factor in our profession. I wish you luck in getting a job; I wish you the better luck in getting one (like mine) that is fulfilling.
When I first stumbled on this page, I was charmed by its candour, but when I linked to the page I had friends immediately pointing out (on FaceBook) that it does come with privilege to be able to say this. Would a person of colour, a woman, someone who is not tenured, etc., be able to say such a thing? It takes both privilege and courage to call oneself a no-name in the profession. But I still like this bio because it explicitly goes against the exceptionalism narrative and it goes for a satisficing narrative: I am not an exceptional scholar, I have a high teaching load, but I am satisfied. It would be important to convey to our graduate students that this can, indeed, be satisfying, and that it is valuable.
There's a recent trend going on social media of philosophers publicly praising and recognizing their mentors and other people in the field, not just for their scholarly accomplishment but also for their humanity and other virtues. It is good to do this, as I think we need to have some models to embody what being a good philosopher as well as being a good person is. I sometimes worry that it is not possible, that the drive for exceptionalism and zero-sum games we find ourselves in are not compatible with being a virtuous person. But then I see genuinely kind, caring people and I think it is perhaps possible after all, although no-one is immune to the bad incentive structures in academia.
However, as Eric Schliesser observed, these sorts of public declarations of humanity and other virtues are almost always for people who also have high prestige and standing in the profession, and thus serve to further entrench inequalities and status hierarchies.
I'm not sure what the solution to this is, as well as to some related questions such as: should we cite bad people? But the discussion reminded me of the ending of Middlemarch, which is in praise of ordinary people who make our lives better.
Her finely touched spirit had still its fine issues, though they were not widely visible. Her full nature, like that river of which Cyrus broke the strength, spent itself in channels which had no great name on the earth. But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.
This is about Dorothea, whose life was not epic or exceptional, and whose efforts were not concentrated in an epic narrative, but rather diffused into many small channels. And similarly, this can be the good life for an academic, and one does not need prizes or papers in top journals for that: one's goodness can be channelled in so many different streams that their overall effect is diffuse yet tangible, and contributes to the overall goodness and humaneness in the world.
Leave a Reply