Last week, the American Federation of Teachers released the results of a job satisfaction survey conducted of part-time or adjunct faculty across the United States. Those surveyed did not include full-time, non-tenure track faculty or grad students whose part-time teaching positions are connected to their graduate training.

Predictably, most respondents said they teach primarily because they like to – not for the money, which in the States can be as little as $2,500/course. Part-timers who taught only one course were more satisfied than those who were dependent on part-time teaching for their livelihoods, especially in public universities. Access to health insurance was what most were dissatisfied with, but perhaps President Obama’s recent coup may alleviate some of that dissatisfaction. Overall, the survey results show that part-time teachers make up a very diverse group, with a broad range of needs and attitudes.

Recently, Inside Higher Ed wrote an article about the survey results. For me, the most interesting part of the article was the readers’ comments. These aptly illustrate the diversity and complexity of the issues this survey raises. One of these issues, I can’t help but notice, is the inability of academics to agree on what’s at stake. Until there is a degree of consensus of what the core priorities of the university are, the data provided by surveys such as this one will fail help solve the problems they identify.

If you have not yet landed your first non-TAship teaching position, I would urge you to read the article (as well as the reader comments). You may also want to take a look at the links below for other discussions about the pros and cons of being a part-time faculty member in the university system. They will give you an understanding of what you could realistically expect to face should you be unable to land a tenure-track position during your first season on the market.

These articles may also reveal a few possibilities for designing a parallel career to finance your teaching and scholarship activities until you are able to successfully transition into academe on a full-time basis. Who knows – maybe by then you will join the ranks of academics who pick and choose the parts of academe they most enjoy through one-off appointments and leave the other headaches to the “lucky ones”!

• Adjuncts: the happy, the resigned and the bitter
• E is for Equity
• What position will you take on the dilemma facing academics?

One of the biggest stumbling blocks many PhDs seem to face when seriously considering a non-academic path is the fear that they will find themselves in a position that they could have gotten without a PhD. This is a prime example of what I’ve dubbed the “bragability factor” which is an insidious influence on the decision-making capabilities of exceptionally smart people.

Definition of the “bragability factor”: the pressure experienced by people who’ve shown great potential to always be progressing in a manner befitting of what everyone expects of them. Left unchecked, it is the fear of not maintaining this “bragability quotient” that can lead to “imposter syndrome”. This is an unfortunate ailment that seems to plague the very people deemed least likely to suffer from such insecurities.

For a successful new academic considering non-academic options, there is a tacit imperative to maintain their “bragability quotient” at least at the level they established while doing their PhD. This is where they scored the big research awards and enjoyed a certain degree of publishing success. However, without any directly relevant experience in a field outside their own academic program, it is quite possible that their first job might feel more like a demotion than an opportunity.

What is required is a reframing of the situation, which is provided compliments of Basalla and Debeluis. They point out that an initial job in a new field should be thought of as more of a paid internship, rather than on par with a tenure-track position. Regardless of your intelligence or your potential, you will need time to learn the ropes. And it is quite possible that at this stage you could be working in tandem with colleagues similar to your students. But think about it from Basalla & Debeluis’s perspective – how hard would it be for you to outshine any of your students in an otherwise equal playing field? After taking the time to acclimatize to your new context, and to demonstrate your abilities to your new employers, it will not take long for you to catapult quite impressively into your new field.

If you are starting a non-academic job, you can ensure that you progress as quickly as possible by requesting regular performance reviews every three months during your first year, with the possibility of promotion and/or salary increase should these be favourable. But do keep in mind that this may not be common practice at every company. However, if they are offering you a position, they will be anxious for you to accept: you are the one they want, and that gives you some negotiation power. In most cases, they will want to ensure you stay with the organization for the long term, so they will be as anxious as you are to pass through the training stage as quickly as possible.

Leaving academe can be a daunting prospect but, as many PhDs will attest, rewarding in the long term. Try not to let the fear of a short term plateau in your path dissuade you from pursuing an otherwise attractive option. You will discover how good you really are relative to the general population once you get established, and by then, a few months in “internship” mode won’t seem so significant.

A few articles from the last year:

• It’s Time for a New ‘Normal’ in Academe (April 2, 2009)
• Give Us the Dirt on Jobs (Jan 11, 2010)
• The Big Lie About the ‘Life of the Mind’ (Feb 8, 2010)

Okay we get it – the emperor has no clothes! The regalia that PhD graduates have donned to symbolize the path leading to tenure and a livelihood of security, status and satisfaction has been exposed as idealistic at best. We now know this is an illusion that won’t materialize for the majority of doctorates in Canada.

One of the comments posted to the online version of “Give us the dirt on jobs”, written by a Dr. Weary, voices the frustration of hundreds, if not thousands, of graduate students who have been lured into academe with promises of tenure since the hiring boom of the 1960s. “I grow weary of reading articles that end like this one – ‘be open to other possibilities’. I’m open – let’s hear what these possibilities are.”

Oh Dr. Weary – I wish it were that easy. There is no conspiracy to prevent PhDs from learning about what others have done and how they did it, although it can certainly seem that way sometimes. One of the problems is that by the time PhDs are in the process of leaving academe, they are not very interested in forging strong alumni relationships. In fact, many don’t want to be in touch with their schools ever again. So how are these disenfranchised PhDs to be traced after they leave?

Attempts at surveys, referenced in the articles listed above, aren’t specific enough to identify what the graduate students are now doing. Stories do trickle back to schools through colleagues and faculty, but these tend to gloss over helpful details that could provide breadcrumbs for others to follow.

Books like What are Your Going to Do with That? provide great advice and stories to get the ball rolling, but as print media, it is limited and can lose immediate relevancy in a dynamic labour market.  

There are those, including myself, who have supported graduate students and advocated on their behalf in universities across the continent for years. But until recently our efforts have been hampered by a systemic belief in an impending boom in the market for PhDs, which has contributed to a lack of funding for PhD career support.

The time has come for graduate student associations, student unions, graduate faculties and students to take a proactive approach to this issue. This is how McGill got funding for graduate-student career-support from the Quebec government: the students orchestrated a strategic, targeted lobby.

Increasing graduate student enrolment is a very high priority for both governments and university administrations. This is the perfect time to draw the line in the sand and demand that graduate students receive at least the same level of career support, services and resources that undergraduate students receive. Universities may find that this support will help them become a “school of choice” amongst the brightest new applicants. 

I would strongly urge each of you to start assessing what methods of advocacy would be most effective in your institutions. Identify supporters amongst the faculty and administration. Use whatever venues you have available to you at the national and provincial levels: University Affairs, associations, governments, etc.

Canada’s biggest brain drain is not in losing our brightest to the States – it’s an internal hemorrhage of our PhDs into a labour market where they themselves have no concept of their worth or the contribution they can to make to our society.

One of the most popular career articles on University Affairs has been How to ask for a reference letter. The popularity of this article is evidence of the intense interest, and perhaps trepidation, at the thought of asking for reference letter causes PhDs.

Since asking for references is an activity everyone in academe will have to face at one time or another, I’m sure there are lots or questions, concerns, even horror stories out there. I think I’d like to change things up a bit here and open the floor for questions and concerns about asking for reference letters.

All names will remain confidential unless you choose otherwise, and no one will be able to see your e-mail address when you send your questions and comments. Keep in mind this is a mediated board, so anything sent in will be vetted by the editor before it goes live.

About reference letters
One perennial problem is how to ensure well written letters are submitted on your behalf. I have spoken to many graduate student advisors who have run university dossier services (which collect and archive confidential application materials such as reference letters and official transcripts) and we have all seen letters that are not likely to help a candidate, and in some cases could actually hurt their chances in a competitive job market.

Here are some steps you can take to minimize the chances of one of your letters becoming a proverbial albatross around your neck:

1. Always give your referees a graceful way to decline when you ask for their support: “I realize your plate is terribly full this term. Do you think you will have time to write a letter of support for my applications to XXX? I will understand if there is too much you have already committed to take on another responsibility of this type.” If they agree to write for you, you have a better chance that they will do so conscientiously.
2. If you are concerned about one of your referees’ ability to write a strong letter, make sure at least one, if not two, of your referees are more experienced. You might even ask if they could provide a little mentorship to the potentially troublesome professor.
3. Diplomatically “suggest’” what content would be most valuable in your letters. This should include reminders of particularly impressive work you have done, student evaluations and awards. These suggestions can help your referees focus their letters and avoid overly duplicating each other’s content.
4. If your university has a dossier service (in Canada only University of Toronto and York University do), you will not be able to access your file to read what your referees have written. However, if you do have a serious concern, then talk to the service coordinator about having your referee or another member of your committee read over your file. They can let you know whether the file was acceptable as it was, or even what could be added to it to strengthen it.

Here are a few links to other resources on University Affairs about reference letters. I’ll be interested in hearing your take on it. I’m also looking forward to providing whatever insight and suggestion I can that might help you avoid an unnecessary explosion!

• Reference Letters Revisited
• The Ubiquitous Reference Letter

Great news – the Non-Academic Careers panel from Congress 2009 has been posted! This session features four grad students who were hired into the federal government through the Recruitment of Policy Leaders program.

One of the aspects of this particular session I appreciated the most was the discussion about the cultural aspects of working in the public service. The speakers describe the reality of working in an environment where no one but a publicly elected official has final decision making ability. Likewise, an ‘original’ idea is unlikely in a context where people have been thinking about how to solve the same problems for many years.

These two aspects alone would disqualify a career in public service from the lists of many PhDs I have known. It also raises an important, but rarely discussed aspect of selecting a career – choosing one where the cultural and ideological premises are in alignment with your core values.

This is also one of the aspects that can be most difficult to ascertain without spending at least some time in a work environment – or talking with people who have spent a lot of time there. After all, how many of you were dismayed to discover what academe was really like once you shifted from being ‘just a student’ to being an employee as well?

Having some idea about what you value in a work environment is critical to finding a position that you find satisfying. But this will take a little digging and a lot of ‘critical thinking’ – it’s not just rhetoric – it really does matter. Issues around who gets to make recommendations, what sort of ideas can be entertained, and what gets rejected, what is considered to be important and who makes that decision, whose ideas are more privileged and why – these are the just some of the issues that can make a position unbearable or a ‘dream job’.  Surprisingly, what you spend your day doing, can pale in significance compared with these less tangible issues.

The learning: when scoping out a job – either inside or outside academe, do your best to unearth not just what gets done in that role, but how, with whom and under what conditions. And if you don’t like what you discover, dig deeper – why are things done that way? There could be very legitimate reasons that may not be apparent on the surface.  For instance, the system of checks and balances in the government prevents a single civil servant with a personal agenda from having undue influence on public policy, which is a good thing – but may leave some feeling disempowered, or even voiceless. In other words, know yourself, and shape your career decisions around this knowledge rather than trying to squeeze yourself into a role that is less than a great fit.

A reader sent me a link to an article recently published by his supervisor, Jonathan Sterne, in the Journal of Communication Critical/Cultural Studies, “The Pedagogy of the Job Market” (6: 4, 421 – 424). This article should be required reading for all graduate supervisors.

His main point is the status of the academic job market in general is not a holy quest nor is a tenured position in a large research university the Holy Grail of academe (my metaphor). He goes on to offer seven principles to realign the position of the academic job market in graduate education and admonishes graduate supervisors for perpetuating this myth. He calls on them to be as critical of their own occupational environments as they are of any other human institution.

This last point of Sterne’s is the closest I have ever heard an academic admit that this profession has a dysfunctional relationship with the term ‘career’ even when it refers to their own – some might say ‘especially’ here.

As a person who has spent more than 20 years in a university setting – 12 years in grad school (MA, ABD and PhD in progress) and 12 years in a university career centre, I have frequently run head-on into the unacknowledged prejudice of all-things-career-related which seems to permeate academe.

I have to be very careful how I introduce myself, or how I describe my background when I speak to academics, because as soon as I use the ‘c’ word, I can see the blinders go on, the frozen stare that says “I’m pretending to listen – but I’ve already made up my mind” and then they quickly change the topic. There is no glimmer of intellectual curiosity, no spark of recognition in a shared sphere of professional interest; nothing to suggest that anything someone for the ‘career’ centre could be involved in might in anyway be relevant to academe at all. In fact there are more than a few professors who would be much happier if career centres simply disassociated from universities altogether. Honestly, I’m not overstating this (too much).

At first I was just plain offended. But it happens so predictably that I’ve come to accept it as one of the great idiosyncrasies of universities. They will unabashedly recruit students by the thousands with allusions to high-status careers, but once said recruits arrive, they are fed misinformation, or no information about the likelihood of realizing their career dreams. To insert any connection between course content and it’s relevancy outside the ivory tower is unilaterally avoided.

Many professors aren’t at all sure where their universities’ career centres are, let alone, what they can do for students. I’m constantly astounded how out of touch faculty members are at universities across the country when it comes to understanding the roles of career centres their own campuses.

Historically, career centres were ‘placement centres’ and were essentially branches of the Department of Labour with the primary task of helping war veterans reintegrate to the workforce after upgrading their educations at university. But that was over half a century ago, and things have changed no less radically in career centres than in the rest of society during that time.

Here is my challenge: if you haven’t yet, seek out your university career centre – online and physically. Feel free to ask them about their philosophy of career development and how that impacts their practice. You may well find their programs and services to be much more grounded in theory and research than you ever suspected.

In the meantime, share Jonathan Sterne’s homepage with grad student who don’t have quite as enlightened supervisors as he obviously is. Thank you Jeremy for sharing Sterne’s article with me – I hope you appreciate how lucky you are!

Happy New Years folks!

I hope you all had a relaxing break. I, unfortunately, spent a good chunk of my holidays writing a paper – sound familiar?

I’ve been reading all sorts of synopses of 2009, and they all seem focused on the gloom and doom of the economic downturn (or ‘crisis’ if you are in the States). Of course, those of you in the job market, or about to be, know all about that.

It seems unproductive to start this New Year with the emotional baggage of its less than stellar predecessor. Instead, I’ve been trying to think up ways to re-frame things to focus more on what opportunities may now be more realistic, even preferable to attempting to find a tenure track position this year. Here’s what I came up with:

1. Taking another year to finish your dissertation at a more leisurely pace. Many Ivy League universities are actually facilitating this option with innovative funding options like internship and bursaries. Talk to your dean and/or supervisor about this – imagine, not panicking at bedtime!
2. Conference with abandon rather than worrying about finishing the dissertation in a few months! Go to fun places, but concentrate your energies on papers that have publishing potential so when the academic job market eases up, you’ll be more competitive than ever.
3. Take a ‘gap year’. I know these are something younger students are encouraged to do, but if you think about, many grad students would benefit from having a year away from academe to reconsider their options, while exploring new ones. Of course there is the financial aspect, but if you don’t have a family to feed, it might be one of the last times you be able to hit the high road just because!
4. If getting away from academe for a year is unrealistic in your situation, at least take some time to seriously investigate your non-academic options – preferably with the support of a career counselor or advisor experienced with grad students. That way if things don’t improve quickly enough for you, you will have an idea of what your next steps might be.
5. Learning a potentially useful, or at least fun, skill. This diversionary tactic could open your eyes to a whole aspect of yourself you had forgotten about, or never knew existed. You will be surprised how much you enjoy doing something, anything, that does not involve research, or academic writing. It can be downright invigorating if not enlightening!

There will be so many incredibly well prepared candidates who will be struggling during this time period, that your ‘unconventional’ academic timeline will hardly be the anomaly that it might have been in the past.

At the very least, having a little time to reflect on where you’ve been, and where you’re going may well make your next steps more clear. Now doesn’t that sound like a good way to start a new year!

Have you been watching the videos that have been posted from this year’s Career Corner at Congress? For those of you who didn’t make it to Ottawa, this is your chance to see and hear from some of the experts in academic career issues who spoke this year.

The other day, I was listening to David Ainsworth’s talk on career in the United Nations for PhDs. He’s quite a good speaker, and his talk is full of useful advice for PhDs longing for a career in this field. In the first clip of this talk, “Does my graduate degree matter?” Ainsworth emphasizes the need to carefully select the subject of one’s thesis. Hmmm – strategic thesis choosing – now there’s a Pandora’s Box of possibilities. (Text continues below)

At a time when there so much dissention over the status of tenure in the university system, and the supposed protection it affords scholars from the infiltration of market influences and other agendas on the ‘pure’ pursuit of knowledge, Ainsworth’s comment bears a second take. He promotes a pragmatic approach: “Designing your thesis on a topic of relevancy to a particular agency” [is a good way to prepare for a career in the UN].

But, one wonders, what if the premise or the findings of said research are critical of the UN mandate? Perhaps what is really being promoted is not so much expert knowledge of a relevant topic but also a diplomatic avoidance of irritating one’s future employer. All of a sudden pragmatism is sounding a little more sinister.

Of course, it could be argued, one is unlikely to want to work for an organization with skeletons in the proverbial boardroom, but that begs the question. It also runs far from of the point Ainsworth was trying to make. But nonetheless it deserves consideration, particularly in a hostile job market.

If you want to make sure you can transition out of academic reasonably seamlessly, either by choice or necessity, it would seem reasonable to suggest that having expertise in relevant areas would get you farther than the converse. Even in academe, some dissertation topics can be more desirable or less impressive than others under the scrutiny of selection committees.

It seems to be more a question of degree rather than of absolutes. How far can you let the priorities of your desired job market (academic or not) preside over your dissertation research before you cross the line dividing pragmatism from ingratiation?

How about you? If you knew that a particular topic was more likely to be viewed favourably by a prospective employer – academic or alternative – would you feel justified in pursuing that topic even if you really would have preferred a different direction, methodology, or emphasis?

A common question I get during advising appointments is whether or not one should submit a teaching dossier if it is not requested in the posting. The role of teaching dossiers in general has been of the centre of some debates since they began to emerge in the 1980s. Some folks (rightly) claim that universities have become much more cognizant of the need to hire excellent scholars who are also gifted teachers and the dossier is a compelling way of providing evidence of the quality of candidates’ pedagogical abilities. Others believe that, especially in reach-intensive universities, the focus of selection will be on research and in such cases a teaching dossier will be less valued then a strong research agenda. However, even then, candidates will be required to provide some evidence of pedagogical mastery in their fields.

My philosophy is – when it comes to applying in a job market as tight as this one – unless a posting explicitly indicates not to submit extra materials, anything that might help differentiate you from other candidates will only help. If you are concerned that your teaching dossier will not get the full attention that it deserves, how can you make sure the selection committee understands what a great teacher you actually are?

To start, read the recent article published in the Career Resources of University Affairs outlining what to include in your teaching dossier.

This will give you an idea of what a thorough treatment of your ability to teach effectively might cover. However the clincher here is the suggested length – 12 pages. When a teaching dossier is not listed in a posting, it is a lot to ask a busy committee member to slough through that unrequested documentation. In fact, in some cases, selection committees may refuse to consider any materials not listed in the posting in order to keep the playing field equal.

Considering this, it is only prudent to consider alternative ways to distribute the strongest elements of your teaching dossier throughout the rest of your application package. Here are a few suggestions that I have given students on how to do this:

1. Develop a shortened version of your dossier – no more than 1-2 pages
2. Make sure one of your referees can provide an informed description of your skills as a teacher. It may be useful to provide this referee with stats from student feedback forms (if available) and to request that they sit in on a couple of classes so they can make specific references to the strategies you used.
3. In the teaching section of your CV, rather than just listing the courses you have taught, you can provide relevant details about the student populations in these classes and in some cases, a short description of innovative elements you used to increase comprehension or engagement. Also mention where you took on more the regular duties of a TA.
4. In your letter, be sure to have a good paragraph explaining your teaching philosophy and how you integrated this into your teaching methodology. Of course, highlight any accolades or awards you have received for your teaching.

When a committee is faced with hundreds of strong, targeted applications, it could well be that your accomplishment as a teacher may draw their attention. If teaching is your forte, the invitation to come on campus is when you really want to shine. If you do get such an opportunity, make sure to ask for as many possibilities to meet with students, both undergrad and graduate. Your obvious love of teaching and genuine interest talking with students will validate everything you wrote in your application package and can make a lasting impression on the committee.

I’m in Syracuse right now, attending a conference of career advisors who specialize in graduate students. The conference opened up with a presentation by Julie Miller Vick (senior associate director of Career Services at the University of Pennsylvania and Jennifer Furlong (associate director, graduate student career development at Columbia University). You may know them better as columnists for The Chronicle of Higher Education’s CV Doctor and Career Talk.

They have just launched what has been described as ‘the bible’ of tips and advice for academic searchers transparently titled, “The Academic Job Search Handbook”. This is the fourth edition of the invaluable resource. If you are ever going to buy a book on the topic, this would be a good one to invest in. Check out your career centre and ask them to get a copy of this edition, if all they have is the third.

Why am I such a fan? Well, first of all it’s packed with real CV samples, as well as letters with blurbs about what sort of search they were used for and where their writers landed up. I don’t think I’ve seen another resource that does this.

Secondly, it’s written with a realistic approach to the realities of today’s academic job market. The section entitled ‘Additional Considerations’ covers topics like dual academic couples, being pregnant on the job market, issues related to international and older PhDs. There is also a chapter called ‘The Expanded Job Market’, which explores alternative paths complete with sample resumes. As happy as I am that they thought to include such a topic in a book focused on the academic job market, I am left hoping they will one write a whole book on the topic, as I think they could expand that conversation much more than they were able to here.

Their clientele are PhDs from R1 (Ivy League) universities in the States. The very ones often accused of scooping up the prime Canadian positions, as evidenced in a latest hot feature in University Affairs. Yet, this recession, or economic crisis as it tends to be called down here, is a great equalizer. When there are no jobs, all PhDs are in the same boat. Miller Vick and Furlong recommend anyone entering the academic job market for the foreseeable future:

• cast a wide net – apply to any position that sounds like something you can do;
• try to tailor your CV and cover letter to every position and if that’s not possible at least tailor them to the positions you most want
• network – reconnect with faculty from previous degrees, introduce yourself (or your research if that’s less intimidating) at conferences;
• and have a really good Plan B.

Their advice is well taken. This job market is not for the faint of heart, but it doesn’t have to defeat you either. By increasing your knowledge about how to do your best, and expanding your options, you will ride out the storm and likely find yourself in a position that will be more than you dared dream was possible.

The Chronicle ran an advice column this week on the etiquette of academe – or rather the lack thereof. Academics, it seems, are not immune to social gaffs, inconsiderateness and sometime unadulterated rudeness.

No doubt, we all have stories of major faux pas in the academic workplace. But make no mistake, what is tolerated as eccentric or annoying in a tenured professor will be much less tolerated by faculty who are further down the food chain. It is perhaps unnecessary to say job seekers should be on their best behaviour at all stages of the job search. It is wise to remember that if you only start minding your manners with your first interview, you may have already burned your bridges to programs and departments where your reputation as a boor or cad is well established. In an incestuous sector like higher-ed, such a reputation can be difficult, if not impossible to shake, once established.

This call to civility is no less imperative for tenure track and adjunct faculty. With competition for any academic position at an all-time high, you simply cannot forgo basic etiquette with students, staff or fellow academics. A word of warning – never underestimate the influence of a disgruntled student or departmental secretary on your T&P file!

Reading over the list provided by ‘Female Science Professor’, the anonymous author of the Chronicle column, you will notice a broad range of scenarios and issues, from the absent-mindedly forgetful, to the downright unethical. Some of these may sound like they happened in your own program. There may even be one or two you are guilty of yourself.

The point to take away from this is not to memorize a chapter of Miss Manners, but to simply follow the golden rule, ‘Do unto others …’ and clean up your messes if you do slip up. Saying a heartfelt ‘sorry’ once you realize someone may have taken offence at something you said or did still counts in today’s world.

Interesting. Last week I asked if you thought the use of contract faculty in universities ultimately enriched or eroded university education. So far, nobody has selected ‘enriched’. Granted, this is hardly surprising given the options presented and the context in which the question was asked. Nonetheless, it does reveal a dilemma that has faced virtually every PhD that has graduated in the last generation.

Apparently many, if not most of you feel the (increasing) use of contract faculty is negatively changing what it means to be educated in a university. But do you feel strongly enough about this to draw the line in the sand and say ‘no’ I will not participate in destroying the quality of university education by actively, even enthusiastically pursuing whatever contract positions I can land?’ Will you take a stand against your administrators, as did the adjunct faculty at York earlier this year, and risk being passed over for a CLA (contractually limited appointed) or miss a shot at a coveted tenure-track position?

Probably not. Most revolutions are halted before they gain momentum by the sheer necessity of earning a living, preferably through meaningful work. And face it, in the scheme of things, except in particularly abhorrent cases, working in a university does has its rewards, and is satisfying at some level, which is what keeps so many adjuncts returning year after year, rather than leaving academe altogether. Besides, after spending years working towards a particular goal, it’s no small thing to walk away because of principles or ideologies.

The days of academic Camelot are over and show no sign of being resurrected in the foreseeable future. This sad reality is the new reality in the ivory tower. The global political economy, the evolution of capitalism and the rise computer technologies are forging tectonic changes around the planet on institutions and traditions that have endured relatively unchanged for millennia until now. What make us think universities alone should be impervious to these forces?

Where does that leave you? This is a time of revolution in the universities, and your role in that revolution is for you to decide. At least do not forge ahead blindly. If you don’t know what the labour issues are in your university, get the facts, talk to your more experienced colleagues – adjunct, tenured, and tenure-track. And pay attention to what you see happening around you.

When change happens, it is often the case that what is lost is initially more obvious than what is gained. I think academe is currently in that space. Each of you must decide where you will put your professional energies – protesting the losses, or creating the gains.  Or maybe there is a way to do both …

The Chronicle of Higher Education has been taking another look at the life of adjuncts. In one of the most balanced approaches to the subject I’ve ever seen, they have released a series of first person videos of adjunct faculty describing their experiences as adjuncts. If you have ever though about following this path, or fear you may not have any choice in the matter, you owe it to yourself to take a look at these. They are unabashedly frank stories. They are also beautifully filmed and edited – kudos to the production team! Here’s a summary clip – individual segments are on the site (text continues below).

Some of the speakers seem to be pretty happy with their positions. These folks generally have other sources of income which ‘adjuncting’ supplements, or several positions at different colleges. The rest would prefer tenure track positions, but for one reason or another aren’t able to land one – not surprising these days – so are trying to keep the doors to academe open. These folks form two sub-groups: the resigned and the bitter, and I do mean bitter.

All the speakers seem share several important characteristics. They all love to teach and put a great deal of (unpaid) time and effort in to ensuring their students’ learning experiences are positive. They all express a deep passion for their fields of research and they have all felt marginalized or ostracized by tenured or tenure track faculty for not being ‘real’ academics.

In Canada, some universities have experimented with multi-year contracts for full-time teaching associates, a trend covered in University Affairs last year. This strategy was intended to help university administrators meet the teaching demands of burgeoning enrollments without sacrificing the quality of their institutions’ research. Since one academic simply can’t keep up with both demands, they divided the expectations between two – one whose sole function was to teach, the other who taught but had increased time to research.

Not surprisingly, faculty associations, and indeed most people concerned about the universities growing reliance on cheap, undervalued contract faculty were considerably less enthusiastic. Undeniably, it provided a welcome respite from the annual uncertainty of most contract faculty, but I suspect wholesale adoption of such practices would bring the labour disputes felt so strongly in Ontario this past year across the country.

Where do I stand on this? Well, for the most part, I am in the camp of academics who are appalled by the working conditions of most contract faculty in Canada and believe that the percentage of faculty forced to work their entire careers in such circumstances is eroding the quality of university education in Canada.

Having said that, I do recognize there are probably hundreds of contract faculty, especially those truly working part-time in one institution by choice rather than trying to stitch a living together across multiple institutions, who are absolutely satisfied with their positions. In fact, I may end up joining those ranks myself. I believe strongly that there is an important role for contract faculty in academe, especially where they can bring the perspectives and experiences of non-academic contexts into the classroom. But contract faculty should never be used to replace tenure track faculty or as a an administrative solution to a budget crisis.

For those of you on the tenure track, or intending to go that route, please listen to the videos on the link above, and remember, should you actually realize your dreams, that contract faculty are your peers, your colleagues – perhaps even more skilled than you in some areas. Treat them with the respect that any highly trained professional deserves, that you hope to be treated with if that’s where your path ultimately leads you.

In the meantime, where do you stand on this?

If you haven’t yet, take a few minutes and browse through the new batch of videotapes from Congress this year on Academic Blogging. Although this may seem like shameless self promotion since yours truly is one of the panelists, I do think that blogging presents an interesting variation of social networking for academics. It’s not unusual now for faculty to have a website outlining their research, publications and CVs, but apart from occasional updates, these are rather static affairs.

Academics blogs however offer a much more dynamic way to disseminate your thoughts and encourage dialogue and input, akin to the days of yore when academics had time to regularly discuss their research with colleagues, often over a brew in the local pub. Alas, those days rarely, if ever exist for today’s faculty. Blogging can be an alternative that may not be as satisfying socially, but nonetheless has the potential to fill an important gap left when academics can’t manage to meet face to face due to conflicting schedules, time zones or distance.

The most prolific academic blogger in my field, Henry Jenkins is a senior-level faculty whose blog is a cornerstone in the area of participatory culture, which he founded. However, blogging can also be a useful vehicle for emerging scholars. A well-designed blog with thoughtful posts can establish the value of your research in your area of expertise. And, it can also provide a ‘way in’ to your field for undergrads seeped in the culture of social networking for whom traditional academic journals may initially be too much to digest. By providing a link to your blog on your homepage and doing a little shameless self-promotion amongst your family, friends, colleagues and students, you will be able to establish a respectable following over time.

It’s not necessary to post daily, but to keep your blog interesting, try to post regularly. Providing an RSS feed will make it easier for people to follow your blog, as they will be notified whenever you post new content. If running your own blog seems like a huge commitment, consider starting a blog focused on a hot topic in your field with a couple of your colleagues. You can take turns composing posts, and the diversity of voices will add variety to the blog and prevent it from getting stale.

The blogging tool I am most familiar with is WordPress. It is both accessible for the neophyte and freely downloadable from http://wordpress.org/. You can post text, graphics, audio and video content, as well as links to other sites. WordPress also provides a neat app for adding polls and quizzes into your blog that can boost the interactivity of your readership. By inserting a range of media and resources, you will keep your blog stimulating and enjoyable to read – and hopefully one that others want to link to, as well.

While blogging will never be a substitute for scholarly publication, it can be a useful addition to your academic profile. It may come in handy during a job search or T&P process. If there is an academic blog that you think is well done, please post a link to it on Career Sense so we can take a look. It would be great to have a range of samples from various disciplines.

Please note From Aug 4 to 25th I will not be on vacation. Actually, I will be writing my comprehensive exams. Wish me luck and I’ll be back in three weeks!

There is a debate that has been humming in the background of many PhD-granting university campuses for some years now. The topic concerns the career development of PhDs and the issue revolves around deciding whose job it is to provide such support.

One school of thought thinks this should be the responsibility of dissertation supervisor. The 2008 CAGS publication “Guiding Principles for Graduate Student Supervision” expressly supports this position:

“supervisors should be responsible for mentoring students in areas such as, but not limited to, the development of appropriate professional skills; applications for funding; networking opportunities with colleagues in academia and beyond; assistance with publications; and career development.”[p. 4]

The problem of course is that the knowledge most supervisors have of the job market outside academe is scant, to say the least. With so many PhDs setting their sights outside the ivory tower this is no small gap.  But even those PhDs focusing on academic positions will be hard put to get much more than targeted reference letters from their time-strapped supervisors, let alone substantive advice and support.

This is why another group think that university career centres would be a good alternative.  After all, this is where relationships with employers are fostered and the most up-to-date information about work opportunities and job search techniques can be found.  In many career centre in Canada’s largest universities, you will find services and support aimed specifically at PhDs.  Smaller universities simply don’t have the resources to do this.  However, recruitment-related  events and programs are almost exclusively aimed at undergraduate students, particularly at those in professional programs, so there is little a career counselor can do in that regard beyond providing you with lists of employers in various fields, which is a good starting point, but after that you’re on your own.  Then there’s the issue of legitimacy, especially regarding the ability of non-academics to provide accurate advice regarding the academic job market.

In the States, some universities have opted for a third option:  to house the professional development of PhDs under the umbrella of the Faculty of Graduate Studies. This centralized resource has the advantage of reducing replication of services across programs while maintaining a sense of integrity concerning quality control.  However, a pan-university resource may not provide very specific information about idiosyncratic application and hiring practices in specific fields.  It also makes it difficult for students to anonymously inquire about ‘alternative careers’ before you’ve decided which direction you are heading in.  In fact, at some universities with this arrangement, career fairs for grad students need to be housed in off-campus locations so that grad students don’t need to worry about whether someone on their committee will see them entertaining non-academic options for fear of being labeled ‘non-serious’ about their  commitment to scholarship.

The inability to reconcile ‘who’ is ultimately responsible for the career success of PhDs is one of the biggest impediments to providing accessible quality career education to Canadian PhDs. This at a time when there is intense pressure to radically increase the number of grad students in Canada.

Ultimately though, making sure you have the information and support you need to create a career path that works for you is your responsibility.  Yes, your program, supervisor and career centre are valuable resources, and you should use all of them as often as you can.  But it is rarely the case that any one of these resources will be able to give you all the support you need when you need it.

The challenge for universities is to ensure these resources are as up-to-date and accessible as they can be. The challenge for grad students is to take the intiative to use these resources creatively and intelligently to transition successfully in to the workplace.

It’s time to stop finger-pointing and start focusing on how best to successfully integrate the skilled and able graduates our country produces — like you — into positions that reflect your abilites and aspirations.

It may take a village to raise a child, but it takes a country to help a PhD reach their potential.  We can’t afford to wait for the economy to strengthen to do that.

Perhaps academics spend so much time analyzing the past because the future is too slippery to grasp. Predictions about the future of the academic job market have swung wildly across the pendulum from extreme pessimism to extreme optimism for 50 years now. Throughout this time, prospective and graduating PhD students have sorely tried to make sound career decisions. But with no reliable data, these have been almost impossible to make.

It is with this in mind that I read a recent article in the Chronicle that asked seven scholars across a range of areas and ages how they think the academic workplace — particularly the job satisfaction and expectations of a faculty career — will change over the next 20 years. Not surprisingly, the responses reflect shades of the opinion spectrum that continues to plague academe. But in spite of this, I still recommend giving it a quick read. Not for its predictive qualities, but because collectively they seem to capture much of what I believe lies ahead in the academic workforce.

Granted, workforces in every sector are facing unprecedented levels of uncertainty, except perhaps the Armed Forces. But this is academe, and the ivory tower has always felt ‘apart’ from the proletariat when it came to such mundane matters as finding jobs. It has never really acknowledged that the 1960s hiring boom was an extraordinary, never-to-be-repeated phenomenon, clinging instead to a pre-fluvial fantasy that such days of abundance will one day return.

Nonetheless, the unthinkable has happened. The academic community finally seems to have turned its critical eye on itself and discovered that far from a gleaming ivory, its towers are a muddy grey, not to mention more than a little decrepit. And centuries of ivy have grown weed infested and are now in need of a good pruning. The university is undergoing perhaps one of its greatest transformations in living memory and what it is transforming into is anybody’s guess as the Chronicle article illustrates. The question is: do you still want to be a part of it? Either way, how does one plan for a future when the future seems so unknowable?

Slippery though predicting the future may be, it is clear that no matter where on the pendulum you congregate, you cannot bank on a tenured position, on being able to land decent and sustainable research funding, or on having classes of students who genuinely want to learn what you have to teach them. If the only certainty is uncertainty, then the only possible response is to be flexible and open to new possibilities no matter the sector in which they emerge. Judging by the perspectives of some of the Chronicle’s clairvoyants, you may well be awfully grateful not to be in academe when all is said in done.

A current article in University Affairs asks the question, “Is freedom of speech disappearing on campus?” While the article focuses on the issue as it pertains to students, the question is no less relevant to non-tenured faculty or anyone wishing to be tenured faculty in the future.

During the long hours I spent on the picket line during the York strike this winter, the conversation occasionally drifted towards wondering why some of our peers were not picketing.  Some, it seemed, simply didn’t agree with issues on the table and did not wish to participate. Yet others, while sympathetic, were up for tenure, or hoping to land a contract position, and didn’t want to risk doing anything that might be frowned upon by the administration.

I was shocked. After all, there were many faculty members, including my program dean, who joined us on the picket lines – but then these were the one with tenure. Maybe my timid peers weren’t so paranoid after all. In a highly competitive field where many people vying for the same tenure track positions have outstanding qualifications and references, how difficult would it be for an administrator to pass over the file of someone seen to “lack loyalty” to the university?

It opens up a can of worms, doesn’t it? On the one hand, the university is supposed to be one of the last institutions in our society where freedom of thought and speech is not just tolerated, but fostered. On the other hand, for contingent workers in the university, expressing these freedoms may well have unpleasant side effects.

Last week I sat in on a day-long meeting of contract faculty members representing five universities. A common issue on all five campuses was the difficulty filling union steward positions. Apparently no person hoping to one day land a tenure track job wants to be stigmatized that way. Even filing a grievance can be seen as showing a lack of loyalty to the home institution, which has led to the development of union or policy grievance processes which leave the person launching the grievance anonymous.

Reps from several universities noted that in the flurry of program closures necessitated by cutbacks, a disproportionate number of programs largely taught by active and vocal union members were axed, effectively ridding administrations of many faculty that would be likely to organize against unfair contracts.

In a context where freedom of speech, social justice and the ability to have a voice are held up as intrinsic values, why are so many people, afraid to be heard? It’s not exactly an incentive to stand up against unfair employment practices is it?

I’ve been watching with interest the poll from last week that asks if readers would still pursue a PhD if they didn’t think it was leading to a tenure track job. As I write this, 74% of respondents have answered “no”. This represents a potential crisis for universities. What would happen if 74% of doctoral students decided to opt out of graduate education? Would it be possible for undergraduate courses to continue without a steady supply of cheap labour? Yet, if grad students were told the truth about their academic job prospects, the survey results of this admittedly small sample suggest that that supply would quickly dry up. I can’t help but wonder what a huge disincentive this scenario poses for universities to actually come clean with doctoral recruits about their career outcomes.

Now before I am accused of being a naysayer, let me emphasize that I do not mean to suggest that a PhD has no value other than leading to a professorship – nothing could be further from the truth. Quite the opposite I would claim. Based on my interactions with doctoral candidates over the past 10 years, I firmly believe that a PhD is a bit like a “get out of jail free” card in the knowledge economy. That is, there is not much you can’t build on with a doctoral education as your base — good news in a rapidly fluctuating economy. The skills and knowledge acquired after 10+ years in the academic context, along with the sheer level of ability the average PhD possesses, are  immensely transferable to many other contexts.

That is perhaps one of the least acknowledged aspects of a doctoral education — and one of the least understood. Provincial governments sort of get it, but for the wrong reasons. They have been pushing to expand enrollment in graduate programs for the past few years, which I would provisionally applaud. But they have, erroneously I believe, justified this in terms of market demand in specific fields. Given the timelines involved in obtaining a doctoral degree in particular, basing policy decisions on current trends is always a gamble. The current paucity of family doctors is a good example of such policies run amok. This misguided thinking is further exacerbated, as I argued recently, by the failure to also fund the professional development support these students will need to enter the workforce at levels higher than undergraduates.

It would have been better,  revolutionary, in fact, if politicians acknowledged that in an economy built on innovation, rapidly shifting knowledge and unpredictability, the need for people not only to able to function in this environment, but to lead the way, is imperative. That will be the primary contribution of graduate level education in the 21st century – to produce the visionaries and policy makers who will help rebuild a strained society on some other basis than avarice.

Inevitably, some of these graduates will become teachers and researchers with universities, but most will permeate other sectors of society where they will develop and implement radically new approaches to a sustainable economy, social reform, knowledge management and technological advances. While some will bring expertise in particular fields, many more will morph into areas far removed from their disciplines, but closely aligned with their unique and highly developed abilities.

We can no longer afford to keep our brightest minds tucked away in disciplinary cloisters of the ivory tower while our society crumbles. Nor is it fruitful to force those who do forge a “non-traditional” path to do so surreptitously (in most departments, a graduate student who openly discusses an interest in a non-academic career all but closes the door on their own academic career prospects because they aren’t considered “committed”).

Our governmental agencies and industry recruiters would do well to develop mutual connections between themselves and graduate programs. Graduate students, with the support of their programs, can jump start this process by demanding that they have access to the same level of career resources and support afforded to undergraduates. Employers,  in concert with graduate faculties and university career centres, can provide multiple venues to develop realtionships with graduate students before they graduate. Governments can increase the number of internships and other experiential learning opportunities for graduate students early on in their degrees. Most importantly, graduate faculty can stop talking about an academic career as if it is the only viable option for serious students. It’s time to put that hoary legend to bed.

In my last post, I mentioned the article published in the Globe & Mail this past Monday on the dismal academic job market. Not surprisingly, the economic downfall is hitting universities hard. In higher ed one of the most common strategies to weather this storm seems to be to implement hiring freezes. A gloomy prospect for PhDs waiting to land their first position.

The article is quick to assure readers that this can’t last forever, and such “setbacks” can be excellent opportunities to strengthen CVs through postdocs and publishing. All relatively true. Although I can’t help wonder at this rate how soon it will be until having books in print will be the industry standard for new faculty.

Historically, this is just the latest of a seemingly endless stream of events that have derailed the long-held prediction that a critical need for massive numbers of faculty is just around the corner. By now, this is beginning to take on the aura of apocrypha,which has been used to divert two generations of our brightest students towards academic careers that never materialized.

The fact is, the majority of PhDs who have graduated in the past 20 years have not landed up in tenured positions. Most have not ended up in academe at all. The Globe article is hardly “news.” It merely reiterates that things are  not going to improve anytime soon.

Yes there was that happy blip in Ontario when the double cohort of two graduating high school classes went through the system, amidst much political hoopla and well-publicized funding increases. In fact, the echo of that surge in enrollment is partly motivating the sudden interest in the opening of new spots in graduate programs.

In all fairness, many of today’s realities – the economic downturn, the reluctance of increasing numbers of senior faculty to retire, the systemic shift to replacing retiring faculty with contract workers – were not anticipated in the the late seventies and early eighties when the legend of an impending academic renaissance began to emerge. But since then, universities have retold the tale to each new graduating class, in spite of no evidence that the situation was really about to change.

It’s important that universities are up front with students they recruit into doctoral programs. A life in academe is not the likely outcome of this level of education. For many, that’s not a problem, they have their sights set elsewhere anyways, and, I want to emphasize, tend to do very well in the private sector when they have time and motivation to prepare in advance of graduation. But many would at least think twice about pursuing a PhD if they didn’t believe that there was a good chance they would land a tenure track position.

Only when the realities of the academic market are acknowledged, can its potential be truly realized. Only then will universities, governments and employers recognize that there is a growing pool of highly trained, extremely competent graduates who represent one of Canada’s largest untapped resources.

Right now the onus is almost entirely on individual grad students to figure out how their abilities might fit into the workforce. It doesn’t have to be this hard. Canadian universities provide a huge array of services, support, information and events to help our undergraduates transition successfully into society. It’s time now, especially now, to do the same for our graduate students.

The Career Centre at the University of Chicago has come up with an interesting turn-of-phrase to describe the career path of a PhD who decides against a traditional academic career. They call it a “Post-Graduate” career.

Hmm – definitely sounds better than “alternative” or worse, “non-academic”  which are the phrases usually used. Career Centres struggle with these words because they imply that the norm is an academic career which, of course, is not the case for the majority of PhDs. So why pretend otherwise or make someone feel aberrant for exploring other options to an academic career?

So what do you think? Try it on – roll it around your tongue. How does it feel? What would it sound like to tell Mom and Dad that after 10 years of university you are ready for a post-academic career?

I’d love to know your take on this because it would really help those Career Centres that actually provide services for grad students to know what you would like careers outside academe to be called. Take a moment to fill in the poll below. Encourage your friends to do the same. I’ll lay odds that whatever you choose here will start popping up in the terminology used by your Career Centres come September.

A reader recently commented:

“Carolyn has raised a very important point. Career advising offices in various schools are doing a good job in guiding undergrad students. However, they have no clue about the needs of our grad students. Almost all grad students are on their own as far as preparation for job hunt in industry, government, and academia is concerned. Successful grads are usually those who are able to find a good mentor (career advisor) using one’s own network. — ahmad”

Ahmad’s point bears repeating – successful grad students are almost always those with strong mentorship relationships. Although I know of some really exceptional graduate student supervisors, I fear they are few and far between. But let me be clear about this. There are many graduate faculty members who would love to have the time to be the ideal supervisor. The sad reality is that they simply cannot with the number of students they are supervising, along with rising teaching and administrative demands they are negotiating. It is not at all uncommon these days for professors to be trying to supervise over eight PhDs – that’s craziness.

The University of Washington has prepared two thoughtful, comprehensive guides, one for graduate students (PDF) and one for faculty (PDF), on managing the mentoring relationship in grad school.

“Think of mentoring as the consistent and developmental evolution of wisdom, technical knowledge, assistance, support, empathy, and respect to graduate students through, and often beyond, their graduate education. In other words, mentoring is a constellation of activities—educational, interpersonal, and professional—that mean more than advising students on how to meet degree requirements, as critical as that is. Mentoring helps students understand how their ambitions fit into graduate education, department life, and postgraduate career choices.” [Faculty Guide, pg. 6]

Oh for a world where this was so – read it and weep!

Nonetheless, I encourage you to share these with your peers and the faculty in your programs – especially your supervisors. While it may not be possible to realize all the ideals outlined in these guides, maybe you could identify a couple of strategic places where you and your supervisor could improve your relationship in ways that make it more satisfying and productive for both of you. For more ideas on where to start, the University Affairs career section also recently published a piece on six best practices for supervisors, students and supervisory committees including “Sharing expectations early” and “Having a plan B” if research plans don’t work out as expected.

It also bears noting that the Canadian Association of Graduate Studies, which consists of all the graduate studies deans and their colleagues in graduate faculties, made a big push in 2008 toward establishing some national guidelines for student supervision. You can check those out on the CAGS website here (along with a similar document on professional skills development for graduate students, which I may post on another time). It’s an encouraging sign to see graduate faculties focused on supervision and mentorship – let’s hope it makes a difference!

The Ontario Liberals announced this past week that they will be funding the expansion of graduate program spaces in specific career-related fields. As someone who has been watching graduate students in my home province floundering in programs pressured to admit more students than they can manage, I am alarmed by this latest example of political posturing. I wrote the following letter to Mr. Millory, Minister of Training, Colleges and Universities. If you are also concerned, I encourage you to do the same by emailing him at jmilloy.mpp@liberal.ola.org. Believe it or not, politicians do listen when someone takes the time to write to them.

Mr. Milloy,

It is with mixed feelings that I read about the $51.6 million you recently announced that you are funneling into Ontario universities. On the one hand, the 3,300 new spaces for graduate students in “high-demand” sectors like engineering and environmental studies is presented as a ‘good news’ story. You justify the expense by emphasizing the social benefits of investing in these fields:

“By helping more Ontarians pursue higher education, we can strengthen our economy and attract the kind of jobs and investment that will build prosperity for all Ontario families.” [Maclean’s, Feb. 27, 2009]

On the other hand, here is a huge chasm between universities and the job market that this announcement fails to address. Mr. Milloy, if this windfall of “highly skilled” graduate students is going to be able to find jobs that they wouldn’t have qualified for without their graduate degrees, they are going to need a whole lot more career support than is available to them now in Ontario universities. In fact universities across Canada typically suffer from the same myopic approach to funding decisions.

Don’t assume the universities have a handle on this Mr. Milloy – most have absolutely no recruitment programs designed for the types of jobs appropriate to graduates with two to ten years of graduate level training. Very few universities even have career counsellors and advisers experienced at working with students in PhD programs. Further, many faculty members in graduate programs are career academics with few if any industry connections. In short, Mr. Milloy, graduate students are too often left on their own to figure out how to get a job when they graduate.

Not surprisingly, Mr. Milloy, cutbacks to university funding are often being felt most strongly in student support services, like career centres. Not that they ever have provided much support tailored to the needs of graduates students. Size matters at universities, which means the largest student body, undergraduates, are the best served. Only in very specific fields like law, business and some engineering streams , do students graduate with a good understanding of where they stand in their fields, and what steps they need to take to get to where they want to go, career-wise. Even then, many slip through the cracks.

Opening up more spaces, without also working with universities and employers to address these problems is short-sighted. We need to provide transitional bridges such as internships and targeted recruitment initiatives. Without such support, we are creating the conditions for a “perfect storm” of highly educated graduates with a huge debt load, little, if any relevant experience, no contacts in their fields and no idea how to enter their chosen professions.

In other words, the current plight of many graduate students in many fields will be concentrated into disappointing outcomes for this group of graduates on which you have pinned so much. How quickly will your ministry respond when the current trends shift? Will you be able to continue funding the field du jour in time to prevent too many graduates in areas previously in-demand?

Our greatest brain drain Mr Milloy, is not losing our graduates to other countries, it’s wasting their potential in Canada by failing to support their transition into career paths that utilize their unique skills and interests. Policies based on the temporary whims of industry will exacerbate this problem, not solve it. Your investment won’t result in the future you promise if you simply make this about numbers and headlines and forget the realities in which these numbers have their significance.

I encourage you to take a leadership role in addressing this issue. You can provide a model for the other provinces on how to maximize the value of Canada’s brightest and most promising graduates Mr. Milloy.

Signed,

Carolyn Steele

I expect by now, just about everyone in academe has heard about the recent think tank report addressing the “perfect storm” threatening quality and access to universities.

According to the report, it is quite possible that we may never again see funding to universities at levels we saw in the past. The report describes a series of unnerving scenarios that we may be facing in a “Peak Post-Secondary Era,” referencing the phenomena the oil industry is facing of declining oil reserves once the maximum levels of extraction have been reached.

One of the scenarios suggests a permanent two-tiered faculty system:

“This will see some faculty paid to concentrate more on research and teaching graduate students, while others will be paid primarily to teach – and in some cases teach an increasingly standardized curriculum.” (On the Brink, pg. 29)

Is it just me, or is this report essentially saying, that in the future, we will have a system where undergraduate faculty will not be doing their own research in their fields, or even developing their own courses? I find that alarming, to say the least.

While there are certainly PhDs I know who would applaud this possibility, how well will it support students wanting to continue on to graduate school? If our brightest students never engage with active scholars, or develop relationships with prospective supervisors, how many of them will be realistically prepared for graduate level studies? Does this really mean that the only way undergraduate faculty could engage in research is on their own time, and only if it doesn’t interfere with their teaching duties? Rather than a PhD, maybe these faculty really just need a BEd?

“Traditional undergraduate education was indeed a more elitist, hands‐on and intimate form of education. This type of educational experience will continue to exist in the future – at the graduate level, where students will be taught by a different type of faculty who are paid to both teach and perform research. The undergraduate experience, precisely because it has been democratized and made available to almost anyone, will look increasingly like secondary school. Many professors, when speaking honestly and off the record, will tell you that it already is. We just haven’t started paying for it that way yet.” (On the Brink, pg. 30)

This acknowledges the detrimental effects funding cutbacks have had on the quality of education, in spite of governments assuring the public this wouldn’t happen. It has – most of you can attest to that. But rather than making an argument for restoring the intellectual integrity of our universities, this report essentially throws in the towel. The BA will be like the old grade 13, an MA will function like a BA used to.

Where does that leave PhD education: deep, analytical research? Where will this “elite” faculty come from? You’ll be able to scratch the surface of the disciplinary research in an MA, but where will PhD-level training actually happen? According to this report, that will be the ultimate sacrifice of the “Peak Post-Secondary Era.” The report implies this is a level of education we simply can no longer afford – except for our elite research scholars. I wonder, can our society really afford that loss?

I’ve got a question for you. If the two–tiered system was implemented as described in this report – would you continue to pursue and academic career? Leave a comment in the forum below.

As those of you who have read my bio know, I am on a leave of absence from my job as a career adviser at York University to teach and research for a year in my field – Communication and Culture. As chance would have it, that choice landed me in the middle of the longest strike ever held at an English-speaking university in Canada. As a union member on the picket line, I began mulling over how academe in general measured up as an employer.

Unlike just about any profession I can think of, young scholars have established a close relationship with their future employers long before they are hired, beginning during their undergrad years.

In grad school, the relationship between the student and their intellectual home can become complicated by the introduction of the employer-employee relationship, but because of the mutual understanding that graduate students are learners first, the expectations around the employment relationship for those of them who are TAs or RAs are (or should be) mitigated by the demands of scholarship. For the most part though, there is still a fondness and a trust that often typifies the relationship at this stage – an extension, perhaps, of the supervisory relationship.

For the few that actually go on to be hired by the same university after graduating, the sometimes abrupt shift in their relationship with the university can be disorienting.

Some young faculty I’ve spoken to have felt that the university suddenly disregards the impact of the multiple and onerous demands made on them at a level that wouldn’t be tolerated in the non-academic workplace. This can make some new hires feel betrayed or undervalued.

Often, departments try to provide mentors or faculty advisers to help tenure-track professors acclimatize successfully and to increase their success rates in achieving tenure. But even then the process is stressful, demanding and, many times, disheartening.

Contract faculty, even those with full-time teaching loads, aren’t usually so lucky to have mentors, and many are left to face deplorable working conditions for many years without support, recognition or respect, priming the pump for fiascos like the recent York strike.

Then there is the drama of departmental politics, which tend to have long and bitter histories. Junior-level faculty can unwittingly stumble into a hornet’s nest of controversy until they learn the cultural norms of their departments. This, more than any other reason, is why PhDs have told me they leave academe – they just don’t have the stomach for it.

Granted, similar problems are endemic in other workplaces as well, but in the university they seem to take on a particularly nasty tone. Maybe it just feels that way when you are coming in with wide-eyed expectations of warm collegiality and support. Maybe there is something insidious in the stereotype some folks have of academics being socially underdeveloped due to long hours spent in isolation studying. Or perhaps, under the security blanket of tenure, some folks simply forgo the niceties of polite human interaction. In any case, it can be a rude awakening to grad students and junior faculty when they realize that the encouragement and support they enjoyed during their graduate years has disappeared.

I realize this all sounds very gloomy and concede that my own experience on strike at a university – another aspect of professional academic life perhaps worth exploring another time – may be influencing my perspective on this. But it’s important that we recognize that the university workplace is, in some very important ways, in crisis for reasons over which it has little control. It is a bureaucracy straining with increasing enrolments, decreasing funding, higher levels of accountability to groups with very different agendas than academic excellence, to name a few.

But if universities are serious about being the employer of choice for our brightest and best, they need to take a hard look at how they compare to workplaces that are more employee-friendly.

So you want to work in a university? After all, what could be better than spending your career surrounded by people who actually value research? What more noble and satisfying vocation could there possibly be?

However, if you are like many young faculty, you may find universities can make much better places of learning than places of employment. This realization is leading more PhDs to question the desirability of an academic career.

For instance, as a doctoral candidate in the early nineties, I discovered academic culture was pretty unfriendly to families. In fact, it was the poorly masked disappoval I received from many of my professors that contributed to me changing my career path. I believed I would never get the references I needed to be competitive in the horrendous job market of the nineties as a direct result of having started my family in grad school – serious academics didn’t do that.

From what I see in universities now, the situation has not improved a lot over time. Yes, there are definitely more female professors now than then, and good equity initiatives are now well-established in most universities, but the work load of the average professor effectively precludes starting a family for all but the most determined.

The “family-unfriendly” culture of academe is finally getting noticed as a systemic problem in academe. According to a recent study of 8,000 doctoral students profiled in an article in the Chronicle of Higher Education last week, rather than giving up hope on the dream of having a family, graduate students are beginning to explore other career alternatives.

“In this profession, everything is very front-ended, and that’s a pressure-cooker situation,” says Mary Ann Mason [one of the writers of the study], referring to the dizzying schedules of PhD students and pretenure faculty members … This generation of graduate students is completely different. They no longer see how that will work for them,” she says.

What about you? – If you had to choose between the possibility of a tenured job, or having a family, what would you choose? Do you think universities are behind the rest of the work force in the quality of life they offer their employees? Leave a comment in the forum below.