New Postdocs

Here are three post-doc positions that have been newly advertised over the last few weeks:

Various End-of-Year News Items

Here are various things that I’ve been meaning to announce. First a prize:

  • The Charles Schmitt Prize is on again, covering intellectual history, 1500 to the present. Doctoral students and new PhDs only. The deadline is December 31. Details here.

Next, some conferences:

Job Market #3

My last guest post on this topic comes from Turner Nevitt, who received his PhD from Fordham in 2016 and is now an assistant professor at the University of San Diego.

My first year on the job market, while still ABD, I applied for about 30 tenure-track jobs. I got three first-round interviews, two on-campus interviews, and one job offer. That might seem like an encouraging thought: it only takes one job offer to have a career in philosophy. But the reality is that most people on the job market nowadays will never get a job offer. Philosophers my age (millennials) should consider themselves a lost generation: most of them will not get academic employment. I did my best to accept this fact before I went on the market. I spent years resigning myself to the very high likelihood that I would have to leave the profession.

Accepting that I likely wouldn’t get an academic job helped me to distance myself from my job search. While I continued to see philosophy as intrinsically valuable, I came to see a career in philosophy as merely instrumentally valuable—just one among many ways that I might find to support myself and my family. This instrumental view of the market enabled me to consider an important question: Under what conditions am I willing to stay in the profession? On reflection I realized that I was not willing to make my family wait for more than three years while I tried the market, I was not willing to move my family cross country from one visiting position to another, and I was not willing to teach a heavy load for meager pay at a community college.

This approach to the market affected my entire job search. I sent out fewer applications, spent less time tailoring them to the hiring institutions and departments, worried much less about my search, and was a lot less miserable than most people I knew looking for a job. If you’re going on the market, I encourage you to do the same. Accept that you likely won’t get an academic job, decide what you are and aren’t willing to do to stay in the profession, and then try your luck.

Luck: that’s what it takes to get an academic job in philosophy. Yes, you need a good cover letter. Yes, you need a strong CV. Yes, you need stellar teaching evaluations. Yes, you need an impressive writing sample. Yes, you need awesome letters of recommendation. But at the most those things will get you a few first-round interviews; they won’t get you a job. Yes, you need to present well in your interviews. Yes, you need an effective teaching demonstration. Yes, you need a brilliant job talk. Yes, you need to be a god among academic philosophers. But that still won’t get you a job. Olympus is over-crowded. There are just way too many highly qualified candidates for way too few jobs. That’s why we should stop thinking of a successful search in terms of faring well on the market, and start thinking of it in terms of being well on the market.

And the most important factor to being well on the market is relating well to your job search.   The second most important factor is relating well to other people during your search. While the support of friends and family is indispensable, being well on the market (and perhaps even faring well) has a lot to do with the culture among graduate students in your department.

I was fortunate to have an incredibly supportive community of fellow students looking for jobs, encouraged by an incredibly supportive jobs placement officer. We all met once a week to help each other prepare to go on the market. We shared ideas and resources about every aspect of the application process. We read each other’s job application documents (CVs, teaching statements, research statements, etc.). We watched each other’s teaching demonstrations and job talks. We practiced our three-minute dissertation spiel and our five-minute dissertation spiel. We reflected on the mock interviews we did with other faculty. We read each other’s works in progress, which we were all trying to get accepted for publication in time for the next jobs season. And so on.

I don’t know what I would have done without this community of support, and I don’t know how anyone survives the academic job market without one. If you’re going on the market, I suggest you find such a community. If there isn’t one already in place in your department, then form one yourself. If there aren’t enough students in your department, then go to other departments. The care of such a community can help to redeem even the most disappointing job searches. I hope your job search won’t end in disappointment. But if it does, I hope you’ll be able to look back and say that you did your best with the best of friends.

Job Market #2

Here is the second in my series of guest posts about the job market, this time from Stephan Schmid (Hamburg), who received his PhD from Humboldt-Berlin in 2010.

Academic positions for philosophers in central Europe –a critical guide for the perplexed

How many stalls are needed in order for there to be a market? This question might not allow for a definite answer, but surely you need several of them. This is perhaps one of the reasons why talk about a philosophical ‘job-market’ has a strange ring to many European ears. Especially for medievalists. There are so few permanent academic positions for philosophers (let alone for those specialized in medieval philosophy) in continental Europe that talk about a ‘job-market’ must strike one as euphemistic at best. But quantity of (permanent) positions is not the only difference between the job situation in North America and continental Europe. There are also differences concerning the formats of philosophical positions as well as concerning the general procedure of filling them. In this post I want to point out some of them – and in doing so I pursue two goals. The first is purely informative: as the philosophical world is globalizing, philosophers from continental Europe and North America are increasingly encouraged (or even forced) to also consider jobs across the Atlantic, such that my experiences from the ‘job-markets’ in these two worlds might be of general interest. The second is slightly political: in my view, a range of things in continental European academia are problematic – and I think that some of these problematic things become most salient in comparison to the North American system (which I take to have many advantages vis-à-vis many facets of the traditional academic system in continental Europe). And while I do not believe that there is an easy solution to these problems, I think that they are to be addressed and discussed.

A disclaimer before starting. Instead of talking about the continental European job-market in general, I confine myself to the market I am most familiar with. This is particularly the market of German speaking Europe. There might be interesting analogues of the academic structures and developments in other European countries, but determining them is a difficult task, which I will not undertake here. Also, what I say about the North American market is to be taken with a grain of salt (at least): I have some personal experience with North American universities. But while these universities might be internationally better known, they need not be representative for the North American market in general.

Philosophical positions at German speaking universities are generally of a different form than positions in North America, though this is changing at many places at the moment. Traditionally, philosophy departments in central Europe are constituted by Chairs (Lehrstühle), which are devoted to a special philosophical area and led by a single full-professor, though there are increasingly more departments that also have professors who do constitute or belong to a Chair. Now, the major difference between the full-professorships constituting a Chair and the other professorships is that Chairs are equipped with a number of associate positions for non-professorial faculty members (which are generally referred to as Mittelbau). The number and precise shape of these Mittelbau-positions (permanent or not; post-doc or graduate) depends on the Chair holder’s reputation and power and the university’s financial situation. In far most cases, however, Mittelbau-positions associated to a Chair are not permanent and in all cases they are subordinated to the Chair holder who therefore not only has the (main) power to fill these positions but also the power to (widely) define the responsibilities of these positions. Accordingly, these Mittelbau-positions were often officially called and advertised as assistant positions, and some Chair holders have been and are still taking this characterization quite seriously. To be sure, not all of them do so – and I was personally fortunate enough that I was never treated or even conceived of as an assistant but as an independent researcher and colleague with shared philosophical interests. Nowadays, these positions are often –and more neutrally– called ‘academic collaborator’ (wissenschaftliche/r Mitarbeiter/in). Nonetheless, these ‘collaborators’ are formally subordinated to full-professors and even if these professors are morally candid or idealist enough not to abuse their power for their own interests, ‘collaborators’ do not have an own research and/or travel-budged and are, at least in some cases, even required to have confirmed every conference trip or vacation by their superior.

As you might guess, the attractiveness of these associate positions crucially depends on the professor with whom they are associated. In the fortunate case, they might be (at least in terms of research possibilities) even more attractive than typical assistant professorships in North America: they involve only a small teaching load and hardly any administrative duties. In terms of security, though, they fare in almost every case worse: only very, very few of them are permanent – and normally they do not even involve any option for tenure. Instead, a wissenschaftlicher Mitarbeiter at the rank of a post-doc was and often still is expected to write a Habilitation (a kind of second PhD devoted to a different topic) that makes her or him eligible for a tenured full-professorship. Whether there are such tenured positions then is another question.

So much about the traditional setting of philosophical positions in German speaking Europe. As said, things are changing at the moment – and they do so on at least three levels: First, on the level of tenured professorships, having a Habilitation is no longer a necessary requirement. Since universities want to also recruit people from other academic systems, in which there is no such thing as a Habilitation, the formal requirement for such positions usually is a ‘Habilitation or achievements equivalent to a Habilitation’. This requirement allows for different interpretations and different search committees at different universities (or even within the same university) give it a different reading. As a result, the criteria for the eligibility for such positions have become somewhat unclear: Sometimes committees insist that people applying from academic systems that know the Habilitation need such a second qualification thesis, while others decide that a strong research profile including international publications in peer-reviewed journals and/ or with internationally recognized publishers is sufficient. Now, as welcome as it is that German universities are increasingly recruiting people from all over the world, the resulting uncertainties about the criteria of eligibility for these positions leaves junior researchers of continental Europe in an awkward position: in order to be on the safe side, they should best try both, to establish an international research profile and to write a second book or Habilitation. (More recently, there is also the possibility to submit a ‘cumulative Habilitation’ consisting of a selection of more or less independent but thematically related papers accepted by peer-reviewed journals). But if one’s Habilitation is, as it used to be the case, to be expected to be an own book on a topic different from one’s dissertation topic, this task is almost impossible.

Second, and in response to the developments just sketched, there are also changes on the level of post-doctoral positions. In addition to (and sometimes instead of) traditional Mittelbau-positions, German philosophy departments have recently started to advertise assistant professorships (called Juniorprofessuren), which are to a large extent equivalent to North American assistant professorships. That is, they are not formally associated to a Chair holder, who has the power to fill them on his or her own, but candidates are chosen by an independent search committee (including external referees), and like their North American cousins German junior-professors have an own research-budget as well as reduced teaching and administrative duties in comparison to full-professors. What is more, adopting a junior-professorship is usually considered to be equivalent to a Habilitation such that junior-professors often count as eligible for tenured full-professorships, though again, this depends on the decisions of search committees. Unlike many assistant professorships in North America, however, many of the German junior-professorships are no tenure track positions – and so they do not match their North American counterparts in terms of security.

The third level of change of German academia that affects its job-market takes place outside the traditional academic structures. It is due to an enormous increase of externally funded projects. These projects are devoted to the (often interdisciplinary) inquiry of a special topic and come along with a range of PhD and postdoc positions. As these positions often do not involve any or very small teaching duties, they can be very attractive. However, since these positions are tied to certain topics they do not automatically allow for the freedom characteristic for traditional academic positions. And in terms of security, they are as bad as the traditional ones: they are all temporary.

As already indicated by my description of the different formats of academic positions for philosophers in central Europe, there is no shared procedure for filling these jobs. What might be most striking from a North American perspective is that only full- and junior-professorships are usually filled by search committees. But even in case where the successful candidate is determined by a committee, the procedure is crucially different from the one I have experienced in the U.S. Let me mention the two differences I found most striking and which you should be aware of if you intend to apply for a full- and junior-professorship in Germany

The first difference concerns the composition of search committees: usually, they contain not only philosophers (internal and external to the hiring institution), but also other members of the faculty of humanities. So, be prepared that you might be asked questions from literary scholars, linguists, historians, theologians, or even musicologists.

The second difference concerns the structure and atmosphere of a typical campus visit: if you are invited for a job-talk in Germany – you will be invited for just that: a 30 minutes talk with 20 minutes Q&A followed by a 20 minutes interview or so. Sometimes (and at most) you will additionally be asked to give a small teaching session. What is more, the committee will interview all candidates in a row and might (in the worst case) have sat through a whole days of talks before yours. If you have ever been on a campus-visit in North America, which involves an all-inclusive pampering program of several days, the atmosphere at a German job-interview might well feel like a blow in the face. But this is how it is: In a hierarchically organized system that systematically produces more candidates than there are permanent or tenure track positions, candidates for such positions are first and foremost supplicants (who might often be in their late 30ies or early 40ies and desperately looking for a job).

The good news is: once you get a permanent position in central Europe you will have an incredible amount of freedom and can work with students with a solid humanist education. What is more, you will be able to live in a reasonable social democracy. Once you are in, you can –and perhaps even should– help defend this democracy and change the problematic facets of our academic system from within. Both are very much needed in these times.

Job Market #1

Over the next few weeks, I’m going to post a series of solicited guest posts on the job market in medieval philosophy. First up is Ashley Dressel, who received her PhD from the University of California Irvine in 2014 and is now an assistant professor at the College of St Scholastica.

It’s job market season: that most wonderful time of the year! The market is an unforgiving leviathan and this is not a post that claims to explain how to defeat it. Rather, it is a post wherein I reflect on my own experiences (three seasons back). Take from it what you will.

The basics: I applied for eleven positions while ABD. Advised not to do a full search at that stage, I targeted only tenure-track positions squarely in my areas of expertise (AOS Medieval with AOCs I could genuinely claim). I was contacted for four preliminary interviews and almost a fifth. In the latter case, the chair of a search committee asked if I could produce (in a short time span) more strong letters of rec from well-known medievalists – I did my best in the time given but was not equipped to adequately fulfill the request. I then had two phone interviews, one Skype, and one at the Eastern APA. Three led to fly-outs and the first two fly-outs led to job offers, both at small Catholic liberal arts institutions. I turned down the third fly-out (a controversial decision, I know) because it was clear to me that I would not choose that position. In the end, I chose a t-t position with a 3/3 load in Duluth, MN, and am inordinately glad to have done so.

What seemed to work:  In addition to the usual things (i.e. obtaining strong letters of rec, crafting a solid writing sample, constructing a massive teaching packet, and seeking robust feedback and advice), because I only applied to eleven jobs, I spent a near masochistic amount of time researching each department and school. This involved reading syllabi, looking at faculty members’ research, trying to determine if the institution was going through changes or challenges, trying to get a sense of each department’s ethos and pedagogy, etc. Wherever I thought I could connect aspects of my experience and interests to those of the hiring department or institution, I did so. I don’t know how much of a role all of this played in the success of the process, but since it was so time consuming, I prefer to believe it made all the difference 🙂 .

All three schools offering fly-outs were teaching-focused (precisely the sorts of institutions I secretly hoped to find myself at), and offered fewer research resources and much less funding than I was used to. Despite this, I did not downplay my interest in continued research in interviews. I just made sure to think ahead about the ways I might be able to do my work at that institution and ways to relate my work to my teaching. Of course, I brought plenty of teaching-related anecdotes as well, including ones about teaching situations I had faced poorly so I could explain what I had learned from the process. Finally, I tried to think ahead about how to talk with an interdisciplinary audience, as smaller institution search committees often include some non-philosophers.

Mistakes were made: Even when one is applying to only a few jobs, the market is time consuming. I expected that first job search to be a flop, and when it was not, I often neglected my dissertation to focus on the search. This is a source of great regret. While I completed in time, the last few months were a desperate, carpel-tunnel inducing, sprint to the finish line. I defected on commitments, weakened bridges I’d built, and created an unfair strain on all involved. I defended on a late July morning, packed that afternoon, and set off driving to Duluth the following day. Yes, I wound up in a job I love, but I still cannot express how strongly I would caution against allowing this to occur.

Aside from that failing, I’ll highlight one more clear mistake I made. My very first first-round interview was high stakes – an unlikely shot at a unique position at a stellar institution. The chair of the committee and I set a time for a pre-interview check-in, our first opportunity at real contact, and I failed to recognize that the time set needed to be adjusted for the time difference between our institutions (three hours). I received the call when I did not expect to and, in my panic, dropped my phone, answering the call with my leg on the way to Target. Add that first impression to very high nerves during the interview itself and, needless to say, I did not make it past the first round.

Concluding thoughts: While support and strategy helped immensely, I do not believe market success follows a pure and predictable formula. After being at my institution for a couple of years, I think I better understand that infuriating, ineffable, unspoken job requirement we hear so much about: “fit”. I fit at my current institution. My personality, academic priorities, the way I think and talk about my students and my work… they fit here in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. Some of these were surely apparent to members of the search committee during the interviews, and I don’t know what to say about this other than that I’m glad I didn’t misrepresent myself in those interactions. I feel very fortunate to have found myself in a place where, at least right now, I feel valued and at home.

Even when things are going uncommonly well, being on the market is awful. It was hard to enjoy even triumphs (‘I got an interview!’) through the dense fog of anxiety, relentless peacocking, and despair. If you are stuck in that fog presently, I hope that it lifts soon, and that when it does, you find yourself in a place and position where you “fit” and feel valued as well.

Upcoming Conferences etc.

Cultiver notre jardin

Here are two brief announcements about achievements in the field, one old and one newer.

  • The old news, from over the summer, is that Lodi Nauta (Groningen) has won the 2016 Spinoza Prize from the Netherlands Organisation for Scientific Research. The prize is worth 2.5 million euros. As with the similar Leibniz Prize in Germany (which medievalists have also done well with), the point of the funding is to support the creation of a research team, in this case to explore the territory between medieval and early modern philosophy. Some of the positions at Groningen advertised this fall are the result of this prize.
  • The newer news is that Therese Cory’s paper “Knowing as Being? A Metaphysical Reading of the Identity of Intellect and Intelligibles in Aquinas” has been selected as the winner of the American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly’s 2016 Rising Scholar Award. (Thanks to Gloria Frost for the information.)