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Philosophy Graduate School and the Teaching Jobs Really Out There

Reader B.J. Robidoux writes:

I read your article about landing a faculty philosophy job, and this is what struck me as strange, not being in either philosophy or academia. You say that the research universities produce metaphysicians who aren’t prepared to teach undergraduate survey courses, etc. My question is, why does the profession marginalize the students who are developing the skills demanded by the market?

Here’s my impression: your business is withering away, sort of like the American auto industry, and there is declining demand for your product at the undergraduate level. The tenured professors resemble the UAW, well paid but aging and rapidly disappearing, and they are being replaced by contract workers. Ultimately this will affect the research programs, which will have less and less justification for producing teachers who will never get a job and don’t have qualifications for the jobs available.

And my question: How does the profession justify not training students for the available jobs? And why isn’t there more focus on the history of philosophy at the graduate level?

Just my impression. I’d be curious if you had a response. Always enjoy reading your blog.

Here is a relevant portion of the article of mine which prompted Mr. Robidoux’s inquiry:

One problem in recent years has been the growing culture gap between the issues that are "hot" in the top graduate programs and what is actually taught at the bulk of institutions of higher education in the United States. Thus, there is a growing demand for the teaching of "applied ethics" (which includes both medical ethics and business ethics), yet hardly any of the top graduate programs boast specialists in that area or train doctoral students in it.

Applied ethics is viewed as unrigorous and philosophically superficial, hence it is largely ignored by the leading programs. Yet according to A.P.A. data for the 1995-96 job market, the ratio of jobs seeking an A.O.S. of "Applied Ethics" to candidates with that A.O.S. was almost 1 to 1. By contrast, for an A.O.S. of metaphysics — a "hot" area in all the leading departments — the ratio of candidates to jobs was about 4 to 1.

That being said, it seems perverse to go to graduate school in philosophy and then choose your field based on job prospects. If you wanted to do that, you could have gotten a J.D. or M.B.A., and surely have done very well. You went to philosophy grad school presumably because you loved some aspect of philosophy. The dissertation, if it is to be successful, must reflect where your true interests lie.

But there is a compromise posture. According to A.P.A. data based on a 1994 survey, more than 70 per cent of all U.S. philosophy departments offer the following courses at least once every two years: ethics, ancient philosophy, early modern philosophy, and logic. That is not surprising: any philosophy department, whether at a leading research university or at a small liberal-arts college, needs to offer the courses that cover the core of the discipline.

Relatively few departments can afford to have a specialist in cutting-edge analytic metaphysics, even if they would like to. But a specialist in metaphysics who is competent to cover the basic undergraduates courses in, say, ancient philosophy and logic, might be very attractive. Almost all departments at least aspire to maintain a serious research profile. The metaphysician who can teach the core department curriculum allows a department to meet that aspiration and fulfill its institutional obligations.

I have opened comments, and invite readers to respond to the issues raised by Mr. Robidoux (or to take issue with some of my analysis from the original article).  No anonymous postings, of course–and no rude ones, either!  Our discipline ought to be able to explain and justify its priorities in response to questions like this from interested observers–or, alternatively, we should change the priorities if these challenges can’t be met.

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23 responses to “Philosophy Graduate School and the Teaching Jobs Really Out There”

  1. Steve Marsh (Ethesis)

    But there is a compromise posture. According to A.P.A. data based on a 1994 survey, more than 70 per cent of all U.S. philosophy departments offer the following courses at least once every two years: ethics, ancient philosophy, early modern philosophy, and logic. That is not surprising: any philosophy department, whether at a leading research university or at a small liberal-arts college, needs to offer the courses that cover the core of the discipline.

    That makes a lot of sense, though it seems perverse to go to graduate school in philosophy and then choose your field based on job prospects seems to imply that one goes to graduate school as a part of self indulgence, unconnected from anything else and that any other considerations are perverse. I think that isn't your intent, but I've been wrong before more times than I'd like to remember.

    What I think you are saying is that it doesn't take that much for a "doctor of philosophy" in Philosophy to be able to teach intro to ethics, ancient, modern or logic and that having that ability is a step towards being able to find employment, especially with the ability to publish in areas that are currently hot.

    I'm not sure what you expect from comments. Perhaps someone in a philosophy department that is hiring can explain why you haven't made excellent sense, but outside of that narrow group you have come to a conclusion that seems obvious once it is made (though obviously was not before hand).

    I'm curious to see what comments you will get. And curious why people do not enjoy teaching ethics.

  2. “Here's my impression: your business is withering away, sort of like the American auto industry, and there is declining demand for your product at the undergraduate level.”

    I’d like to know a bit more about how you formed that impression, since Columbia's undergraduate major has grown quite a bit in recent years.

  3. B.J. Robidoux asked:

    "How does the profession justify not training students for the available jobs?"

    One answer might be that Ph.D granting philosophy programs are the same as any other academic discipline: the expectation is that research should drive teaching, rather than the other way around. We want PhD programs in physics, for instance, to focus on investigating whatever questions they feel, in their best judgment, most demand answers. Why should philosophy programs be any different?

    In light of this, one might look at the same facts as Mr. Robidoux and ask a different question:

    "Why don't philosophy programs around the country have a stronger interest in teaching those topics that the best research institutions think are most important? That is, how do they justify not creating jobs for the (best) available students?"

    There are no doubt many explanations for this. Much of this has to do with who is already teaching, and hence hiring, at the universities in question: just as top reseach programs tend not to have strong interests in what those professors teach, those professors are likely to have little interest in the topics PhD granting programs consider "hot". I was told as a second year undergraduate, for instance, that although the course I was taking was titled "Metaphysics and Epistemology", it was widely held that metaphysics, as a discipline, no longer existed.

    It is also relevant that philosophy, unlike other disciplines, is not taught in high school; if it were, then it is reasonable to think that high school courses would deal with more of the 'popular' topics, with university level courses tending to be a little more philosophically sophisticated.

    No doubt various other "personal" motivations, etc., are in play as well.

    One other word about the comparison between philosophy and physics. There _is_ a need to teach those topics that are not hot topics at philosophy research programs. We can't expect average students to grapple with, or be interested in, the same issues that we are, but it would be a mistake to think that if they can't do so or are uninterested in doing so, philosophy has nothing to teach them. I love teaching applied ethics, for instance, for although I find some of it philosophically weak, it is _less_ philosophically weak than what passes for ethical reasoning in the public realm, and students recognize this with the joy (and frustration) of genuine learning. I can't expect all my students to become philosophers, but through (say) teaching a little applied ethics I can open their minds to at least some of what is beautiful and sublime about philosophy.

    It is in this way that philosophy is, again, akin to physics. Most students — the vast majority of people — will never come close to understanding what physicists investigate. But we do believe that they benefit from learning something of physics, even if their knowledge is superficial.

  4. I am a recent PhD, from a decent Grad Program(Northwestern), specializing in Ancient Philosophy (Richard Kraut directed my dissertation). Perhaps I am the nexception, but I've never belived that my future lay in promulgating my very interesting and controverssial thoughts about platonic epistemology. For most of us, even those with distinguished advisors, the future lies in teaching, whether at (at best) second tier graduate programs, or with smaller state schools or liberal arts colleges. In my experience, all of these jobs require some "range" in our teaching of philosophy. To think otherwise, unless one is coming out of one of those "elite" graduate programs, strikes me as somewhat delusional.
    Noe of this is to say, of course, that excellence in one's more narrow speciality is to be undervalued. It's just that, if one's interest is to get a job, one has to be well trained in a variety of areas, at least as far as undergraduate teaching goes.

    I also want to agree with Steve Marsh, and emphaisize that if one doesn't like to teach ethics to undegraduates, then perhaps one doesn't really love philosophy.

  5. Readers of Brian's article might gather that the "compromise posture" described in the last two paragraphs of the excerpt is a new or at least up-til-now-rarely-tried (or at least rarely tried in elite programs) strategy. (I don't know what Brian's intent was here.) If so, I think they'd be getting the wrong impression. Graduates of PhD programs, including elite programs, typically have multiple areas of teaching competence in addition to their main area of research specialization. Very often these AOCs are in high-demand areas of philosophy. So I think the compromise strategy is actually quite common. The graduates that these programs, and that the top tiers of these programs, put out certainly don't ideally match the jobs that need to be filled (and applied ethics may be a particularly good example of this failure), but when you look at AOCs, they certainly do a better job here than one would gather by looking only at candidates' main areas of specialization.

  6. "And why isn't there more focus on the history of philosophy at the graduate level?"

    As fas as I know, every department requires its graduates to take at least two or three graduate level courses in the history of philosophy (ancient, modern) as part of the 'core requirement' or whatever it is called. Of course it is absurd to think that such requirements by itself could inspire a serious engagement of students with the history of their subject. Such an engagement cannot, in my view, by encouraged by formal course requirements. Adding one or two or even three more 'historical' requirements to the curriculum will not, eventually, make a difference.
    A 'lively' focus on the history of philosophy at the graduate level is an illusion as long as the current self-conception of Anglo-American philosophers prevails: a self-conception that idolizes the Quinean dogma according to which there is a sharp distinction between 'problem-solving philosophy' and 'history of philosophy'; and that believes that while real philosophers solve the problems, it is up to philologists, antiquarians and historians to investigate the doctrines of past philosophers.
    This self-conception is – it seems to me – more or less implicitly accepted by the vast majority of people working at 'analytically minded' departments.

    One consequence of this self-conception is, as I well know, that the vast majority of graduate students who are currently being 'trained' have (apart from the required formal coursework) little knowledge and even less of an interest in the history of their subject. This results in the fact that most students at this level think (or at least this is my impression) that 'real philosophy' starts somehwat around the 1950s or 60s, and that those who came before were odd fellows who developed a range of weird doctrines that are entirely anachronistic in view of the scientific image of our age. (I once asked a first year grad student in the UK, who told me that he is working 'on the mind-body PROBLEM', whether he was reading Descartes, and the reply was: 'No, Descartes is a little bit too ancient for me.')

    Another consequence is the current state of the discipline: debates being continuously divided into smaller and smaller issues; 296 philosophers who 'work on' PROBLEM X having 200 different 'theories about PROBLEM X'; and the belief – which alone can explain the production habits of an industry that gives life to thousand and thousands of articles and 'papers' a year – that all these 'PROBLEMS' one is 'working on' are entirely self-contained and can be pursued independently for the sake of newer and better 'theories'. This state of the discipline, i.e., its lack of integrating powers and its dispersion into myriads of sub-fields, is in my view essentially connected to the fact that contemporary academic philosophers have entirely lost their interest in those great past philosophers who did possess integrating powers, and whose thinking conveyed the conviction that philosophical thinking is by its very nature alien to the kind of specialization and dispersion that is a necessary concomitant of the positive sciences. Of course, this loss of interest is probably entirely unproblematic for current academic philosophers, who are also mesmerized by the success of the positive sciences and think that philosophy should be likened to these sciences as closely as possible.

    Sorry for the rather long answer to the question, but I think that it raises very deep and important issues about the current state of philosophy. In my view it would be wrong to blame graduate programs for the relative absence of Plato, Aristotle, Kant, and Descartes from their curricula. US graduate programs in philosophy are, I think, the best in the world in that they still have core requirements and a recognizable standard of teaching and graduate education. As I tried to explain, the lack of focus on the history of philosophy is not the fault of graduate programs, but a direct consequence of the state (some, including myself, would say: the disease) of the discipline.

  7. Mr. Robidoux's central concern is that the mis-match between cutting-edge dissertation topics and high-enrollment UG classes might indicate that our business is "withering away" and there is a "declining demand" for our product.

    But this pair of facts is just what one sees in every discipline that *has* a cutting edge, even if it is in perfect health. Physics and math are surely not withering away. But no ambitious grad student in those fields writes dissertations on the subjects that they will be called upon to teach, year after year. Year after year, it's going to be Calculus 101 and Physics 110, and you're going to get awfully tired of inclined planes and Hook's Law and trying to get the rudimentary epsilon-delta argument through freshmen skulls. That's what teaching undergrads requires, and you make peace with it, whatever your subject is–some of us even enjoy helping new minds through old arguments. But it is certainly not much like doing advanced research in your field.

    There is not a lot of undergraduate demand for the really interesting and cutting-edge topics in any flourishing discipline–indeed, the gap between what is taught at the introductory level and what is researched in the best universities might be taken as an index of health, not the reverse.

  8. "For 1995-96, there were 341 philosophy Ph.D.'s awarded in the United States and Canada, according to data printed in the September 1996 Review of Metaphysics. By 1998, only 6 of those students had secured tenure-track jobs at top-15 departments, while another 11 had landed such jobs, or their equivalent, at top-50 departments in the United States or abroad.

    "Anecdotal evidence confirms the grim picture painted by the numbers. Because the job market has been so bad throughout the 1990s, the market is not only saturated with each new crop of rookies, but also with the job candidates from prior years who either did not get tenure-track jobs or did not get tenure-track jobs they want, and thus who are looking to move up in the great academic hierarchy."

    i don't mean to sound harsh with this, but given what brian has said [quoted above], couldn't the problem be that the "philosophy industry" is simply producing too many phds? it seems to me that the notion has been thrown around on this blog that there are simply too many phd programs, which obviously leads to the production of too many phds. think of it in terms of what expansion has done to professional sports. for example, many "purists" complain about the current state of baseball: the quality of pitching, too many runs/game, among other things. one of the obvious reasons for this has been the diluting of talent at the professional level caused by the expansion of spaces available for players. every time a new team is created, more players have to be drawn in from the pool of prospects in order to fill those spots. this, in turn, means that teams cannot afford to be as selective in the hiring process, which leads to an overall diluted pool of talent at the professional level.

    i think there is something similar going on at the graduate level in philosophy [in general]. in short, there are simply too many graduate spots to be filled; thus, spots are increasingly filled with lower quality talent, leading to an extremely diluted pool of prospective faculty candidates [and, yes, i am a grad student, so it's possible that my being in grad school is contributing to the problem i am identifying]. just yesterday, a professor of mine told me a story of an undergraduate student who asked him to be a referee for his graduate school application. after warning the student that he had nothing positive to say about the student, and in fact, committed himself to advising admissions committees that the student should not be considered for admission to a graduate program [in his opinion of course], the student used him as a referee anyway… and managed to get accepted to a master's program! stories like this, along with my own [limited] observation of the general quality of grad students at several depts, indicate [to me] that graduate programs in philosophy are simply admitting too many people in order to fill spots, thus diluting the field of potential hirees.

    does this mean that hiring statistics are misleading? is it not the case that the number of potential candidates is actually much lower given that many "candidates" may not be qualified to become philosophy faculty despite the fact that they have a phd? also, can such a problem be rectified? if so, how? it seems to me that you cannot simply go about cutting graduate programs; without doing so, is there a way to be more selective about handing out phds? i don't have any answers, but this seems to me to be a problem that has been skirted around, but never seriously addressed.

  9. David,

    Your analogy simply does not hold. Not every player on the roster of a MLB team has major league skills, in fact, quite a few of them would have benefitted from additional seasoning in the minors. (Although, MLB has gotten a boost in recent years from the influx of talented players from Latin America and the Far East.) But everyone who has earned a Ph.D in philosophy is qualified to teach college philosophy and publish on the subject. (Of course, not all of them will turn out to be a David Lewis; but not all ML ballplayers are as skillfull as Barry Bonds either.) The system already 'weeds out' those who are unable to do these things. The problem is that capitalist wannabees known as administrators have turned academia into a business, cutting full-time jobs to boost their salaries by saving on labor costs.

  10. David: Philosophy may produce too many PhDs, but I don't think that's shown by the statistics you quote from Brian at the top of your comment. That a quite small percentage of new PhDs secure tenure-track jobs at top-15 or even at top-50 programs within a couple of years would not constitute, at least to my thinking, a "grim" tragedy if a quite high percentage were able to secure decent tenure-track jobs at good schools. It's bad stats about more general placement that, at least to my thiinking, would (and probably do) support a conclusion that we're putting out too many PhDs.

    On the "diluting of talent" in "professional sports": I strongly believe this is an illusion. Of course, the average talent in the major sports leagues is lower than it would have been if the leagues had been unwise enough to stay at the very small number of teams they had decades ago. In that counterfactual way, talent has been diluted. But what is an illusion, in my view, is that the average talent of the athletes is lower than it was in the old "glory days." I waste a lot of time reading stuff about sports, and a couple of years ago read this collection of first-person accounts from players who had been in the NBA during its early years. One of the questions they were asked to address in their accounts was something like how they in their prime would have fared in today's game — would they be star NBA players? Almost all of them answered "yes," and it struck me as complete nonsense. Some of them, as I recall, even addressed what would be the obvious objections: "Well, it may look like I was way to small and way to slow to have any chance today…", but they went on to counter those objections in extremely unconvincing ways. ("Oh, yeah, I forgot about those 'intangibles'!") The player who said he couldn't make it looked to be (at least going by stats) easily the best player who contributed; I think it was George Yardley, who was the first NBA player to score 2000 points in a season. (I think Mikan came close a couple of times in the early 50s, but Yardley was the first to actually do it toward the end of the 50s. Of course, his record was soon to be completely obliterated by Chamberlain, but Wilt didn't contribute to this book.) Anyway, Yardley recognized that if you're going to make it today at his height (around 6'5"?), you have to be amazingly athletic — to a degree Yardley couldn't get close to. He didn't make any lame noises about intangibles. As I recall, his response was that, so far from being an NBA star, or even making it into the NBA, he "couldn't make a good college team today." That struck me as the most accurate answer to that question in the book. (Remember that great "Twilight Zone" Nike commercial from several years back in which Scottie Pippen was suddenly transported back to the 50s & obliterated those old-style players?)

    Sorry, everyone, for the sports digression. Blame David: He set me off. Back to the real discussion…

  11. Teaching philosophy is a tricky task. It requires a lot of practical wisdom in combination with a vast set of abstract issues neatly organized into a coherent corpus that can be conveyed to philosophy students in a lecture’s or office meeting’s notice. To train philosophy professors, including professors of morality or ethics, can prove to be a fine art that may require an array of key circumstances. When the events line up, when you find a student with the potential to grasp the philosophical conversation of the ages and to adopt it as his/her own conversation, and under the auspices of great mentors, voila, the essential ingredients for a philosophical instructor are possible, give or take a few impurities, e.g., the complexities of various personalities, and the preferences exemplified by individuals. On the whole, producing such a commodity is no easy task. (In theory it can even skip a generation or two until a batch of purveyors of philosophical wisdom are marketable–“the one‘s that really know there stuff”, as mediocre philosophers are a dime a dozen.) Touching on the issue of the demand of philosophy professors, well, it really isn’t that complicated of an issue. Just like there are government subsidies in various private sectors, there are financial subsidies supporting philosophy personnel, thereby ensuring, despite market fluctuations of supply and demand, that the product under question continues in existence. In other words, universities can continue to allocate resources to philosophy departments in order to secure, not only jobs, but also the art of critical thinking, that naturally compliments our democratic ideals and form of life. It’s in the best interest of universities, as collective bodies of scholars, to continue the practice. This rationale is based on a quasi-utilitarian premise that scholars Know what is good for society; so, if supporting philosophy programs is a way to do just that, in conjunction with other disciplinary fields, then the show must go on. If the show must go on, then there will be a need for characters to play the role. Hence job security.

  12. dave, I think you are right but I'd put it differently:

    far too many PhDs are working on the same topics. Practical reasoning/normativity in ethics is one current example, epistemic contextualism is another. these discussions then become bloated very quickly and I cannot see any advantage of this.

  13. As a complete outsider to the field (Biochemistry prof), I am astounded that someone with a Ph.D. would not be able to teach a reasonable undergraduate course in any subtopic of Philosophy. Isn't that what Comprehensive Exams are for? Certainly all of my colleagues are capable of handling the introductory material in my discipline, and I would be very unhappy if someone pronounced him/herself unable to do so. I personally have changed my research focus several times after teaching an undergrad course, so the fertilization goes both ways.

  14. Re: Frank Schmidt's issue – On the one hand, I think that any Ph.D. should be able to handle the most introductory courses in philosophy – in some cases there would be more preparation than in others (e.g., someone who specializes in applied ethics might have to work harder to prep a course in logic and vice versa). But to a large extent I think that the reason it is so difficult in Philosophy (and I can't speak to Biochemistry, so I'm guessing on the comparative part of this claim) is that it is a more diverse discipline, with greater fragmentation than Biochemistry. For example, I don't know ancient greek (a failing of my education, I realize), so I wouldn't feel competent to teach an undergraduate course in ancient philosophy as a result (others might argue that this isn't necessary, however.) Similarly, for teaching a course on 19th century German philosophy (I'm just not competent enough in the relevant history, German language, etc.) I could teach an undergraduate course in modal logic, but it would be an awful lot of work for me to prepare it. Teaching an introductory course in the philosophy of physics is probably close to impossible for many philosophers that don't have the requisite physics/philosophy of science background. And so on.

    So part of the issue is over just _how_ introductory the course is – at the most introductory level, any PhD in philosophy should be able to teach such a course. But, on the other hand, the variety of kinds of courses taught at the undergraduate level in philosophy is often extensive.

    Re: comprehensive exams – alas, since there is signficant disagreement in philosophy about which fields (if any) everyone should know something about, most PhDs can graduate without knowing anything about say, Existentialism, or philosophy of physics,or medical ethics, etc. (take your pick – different programs might let you through without knowing different subspecialties. Rare would be the philosophy PhD program that demanded competence in nearly every subfield…) And all of these are areas on which there are often undergraduate courses…

    Of course, philosophers often teach courses outside their research specialty, and this often influences their future research, etc., but it is still the case that there are so many subspecialties, which often require very different kinds of skills…

  15. robert: i would agree that the analogy is not perfect, but i do think it is illustrative. however, in order to be so, i think we might need to make a distinction between "qualified" in the formal sense (i.e., one who has fulfilled all the prerequisites for qualification, e.g., writing and defending a dissertation, etc.) and "qualified" in a somewhat informal sense (i.e., one who does acceptable work at a minimum standard of quality or better; "informal" is probably a poor term to express what i mean here, but i'll leave it for now). maybe another analogy will help illustrate what i mean here (although it may, again, be a flawed analogy): in the legal field, i think it is safe to say that the quality of work differs across practitioners. and, to be clear, i don't just mean that some exceed reasonable expectations, whereas, the rest merely meet the expectations. i mean (and i don't think this is a stretch) that there are some "bad" lawyers in the world (i.e., they are negligent, or worse, incompetant). now, in one sense, all those who are entitled to call themselves lawyers are "formally qualified" (they have a law degree, have passed the bar exam, etc.); but it does not seem to be the case that all lawyers are "informally qualified", because they do sub-standard work, they are negligent, incompetant, disreputable, etc.

    so, my question is (and this is a genuine question since i don't know the answer): could this not be the case in philosophy? is every student from every school who ever graduated with a phd "informally qualified" to teach or publish in philosophy? is there no such thing as a "sub-standard" philosopher? if not, then i am off-target, and can accept that. but if so, then there would seem to be a real problem with the "philosophy industry", viz., the creation of more "job candidates" than job prospects due to the creation of "sub-standard" job candidates. obviously, the way i have framed the question raises a problem, viz., how is the standard set? in other words, how does one judge whether someone meets "the standard"? but i don't think this is problematic, since this can usually be done informally or intuitively (i.e., philosophers seem to have a general sense of what consitutes "standard" or "good" work in philosophy, and "sub-standard" or "bad" work in philosophy).

    i suppose one answer to this challenge would be that the hiring process weeds out the sub-standard candidates, preventing them from ever joining a philosophy faculty. since it would be impossible to quantify a demographic like "sub-standard phd graduates", there would be no real way to correct hiring stats based upon the recognition of "informally unqualified" candidates (though it would still prevent sub-standard people from being hired). and, on the topic of stats, i agree with you, keith, that the stats i quoted earlier do not support the "grim tragedy" reading of the philosophy job market. i was more interested in the "market saturation" comment brian made, wherein he asserted that the market becomes increasingly saturated each year due to a downturn in hiring and a corresponding increase in phds. it seems to me that, with each passing year, the market saturation will become exponentially worse (without factoring in those who drop out of the job market), which leaves me sober about my own job prospects.

  16. I'm just a lowly grad student myself, so maybe I'm missing something vital… But it seems to me that talk of "too many Ph.D's" or "too few jobs" seems just plain wrong. Is there really a problem to be discussed?

    While there are (by definition) only 50 "top-50" programs in graduate philosophy, we shouldn't expect all that many fresh graduates (or even seasoned professionals) to get tenure-track work in those departments in any given year. How many openings can we expect there to be in 50 stable and fully-staffed departments? Openings arise because of retirement, moves, and expansion, but in any given year how many positions would we expect to open in up in some specific subset of schools?

    I think it's important to remember that there are far more than 50 colleges that offer philosophy at some level or another, and that the Ph.D-granting universities have the responsibility of staffing all of them, not just the "top 50". So of course there are going to be many freshly minted graduates who won't be able to get jobs in those departments.

    Maybe the problem is that every recipient of a "highly ranked" philosophy Ph.D. expects to get placed at a "highly ranked" department right out of grad school. Graduate students in many other fields–especially the sciences–know that they won't be getting tenure-track work in top schools right away. Most expect to do a post-doc or two, and maybe settle at a mid-grade state school while they continue to build up their CV. Should philosophy students really expect something significantly different?

    According to the APA, the ratio of candidates to positions has dropped from a peak of 2.7 in 1995, to 1.4 in 1999. (http://www.apa.udel.edu/apa/profession/Candidates.pdf)

    During the same period, the number of listed positions rose from 420 to 787–almost double. (http://www.apa.udel.edu/apa/profession/jfpstats.html)

    So is there really a job crisis?

    Of course, the matter of whether the candidates are prepared to teach key undergrad surveys and courses is another story. I'm prone to agree with Leo and say that they aren't, and its because analytic "research" programs want to be doing one thing (problem-solving and specialization), while undergraduate programs want to be doing something drastically different (history and integration).

  17. In fact, that last bit I mentioned might explain why philosophy departments have a problem and science departments don't (as Frank Schmidt pointed out). Science department's just aren't as schizophrenic. It's problem-solving at the undergrad level, and problem-solving at the graduate and professional level. Ultimately, science professors just work on easier sets of problems when they teach undergrads, using the same skills that they honed as graduate students. Philosophy professors, on the other hand, have to forget modern analytic 'problem solving' for 20 hours a week and talk about the relationships and writings between some guys who died 500 years ago. It's almost like they have to act like the humanities professors their students expect them to be rather than the proto-scientists they see themselves as.

  18. For some of the outsiders to the field (I myself am only a graduate student), we do not all see ourselves as "proto-scientists." It is another battle we seem to face amongst ourselves as to whether we are a science or, as the late Bernard Williams still believed, a "humanistic discipline."

  19. David,

    I've already conceded that not every philosopher is a David Lewis. But the problem is not that grad schools are producing too few superstars. It's that there are not enough full-time jobs for all the philosophers holding doctorates. But this sad state of affairs does not constitute an indictment of anyone's qualifications. Rather, it should be seen as flaw in our so-called free market system. Give me one good reason why every doctorate holding philosopher could not be gainfully employed as a professor of philosophy. Lord knows that enough work exists. But, instead of just hiring philosophers on a full-time basis to do it, administrators rely on adjuncts, whose options outside academia are severly limited. (And besides, why should someone have to go outside his/her chosen field if work exists therein?)

    For what it's worth, all of the philosophers in the APA circles in which I move are all-stars with whom it is a great thrill to compete.

  20. Any solid PhD in philosophy ought to be in a position to teach ancient, early modern, ethics, and logic–if not because she's a specialist, then just because she knows enough about the field, is a competent and hard-working researcher, and knows how to teach. If someone can't, then she doesn't deserve an academic job. But how many newly-minted PhDs from top-50 programs aren't in a position to teach a good 100-level course in any of those fields? You don't need to be a Spinoza specialist to teach early modern. The notion that candidates have a tough time on the academic job market because of a misbegotten AOS seems to miss the point, since it assumes that a candidate's AOS has some relevance to her competence to teach introductory philosophy courses in the core areas of the discipline, and that strikes me as false. Just about any graduate student is going to have spent significant time TA-ing for (if not teaching) courses in the basic philosophy curriculum, and if she has anything like a decent philosophical education, she's going to know enough about the area so that a summer of preparation will put her in a position to teach a solid course. (To be sure–having the right AOS, e.g. applied ethics, might help you on the market, but I don't see why having the wrong AOS ought to hurt you.)

    The idea that "we're churning out too many PhDs" is basically vacuous. Too many for what? Too many for the number of decent jobs? Well, yes. Too many for the number of philosophy teaching jobs there ought to be given student demand? Much less clear. The "too many" question misses the real problem, which is that the academic labor market is increasingly causalized and stratified, and this has essentially to do with decisions made by administrators and trustees and not with decisions made by philosophy department graduate admissions committees.

    Essentially meaningless distinctions (e.g. does this guy we're going to hire to teach intro, logic, and ethics have a degree from Columbia or from Ohio State? AOS in metaphysics or philosophy of math?) wind up making a huge difference to candidate's prospects because there's a glut of labor on the academic job market. This also produces the nightmare scenarios of the sort described by Brian Leiter in his Chronicle piece, where an open junior position winds up going to somebody with eight years of post-PhD experience and a book contract. But why is there a glut of academic labor? It's a mistake to focus just on philosophy when asking this question. Universities and colleges have, for the last thirty years, become increasingly reliant on graduate, part-time, and adjunct teachers to do the grunt work. E.g. at the CUNY philosophy department, nearly all PhD students teach (not TA!) two introductory philosophy courses at NY city colleges per semester. So good luck getting a tenure-track job at Baruch College teaching intro to ethics and baby logic! This is rather extreme, but similar situations are the norm at most public institutions, and even at many private ones. (A non-philosophy example: at Yale, nearly all lower-level foreign language courses are taught by graduate students.)

    So if an institution relies on the cheap labor of graduate students to do introductory teaching and grading, you get the following situation: more PhDs without more jobs. Then there's a nice pool of underemployed PhDs to pick up the slack in the form of part-time and adjunct teaching, and bingo–universities don't have to increase the size of their (expensive!) tenured faculty to keep up with the continually growing demand for undergraduate education! The academy-wide data show that this is exactly what's happened. Throughout the nineties, the disparity between the number of new PhDs (across disciplines) and the number of new tenure-track hires grew fairly steadily; average time on the job market increased; and the number of graduate teachers (again across disciplines) approached double the number of junior faculty members.

    I don't see any reason to suppose this isn't exactly the situation in philosophy. While inadequate job training and the wrong dissertation topic will certainly hurt individual candidates on the job market, they have little to do with the real problem. I am sure that among the 500 candidates for the junior position Brian Leiter describes, at least a couple hundred were great teachers with appealing AOS's and AOC's, interesting publications, and solid work ethics to boot. So why were there so many candidates?

    It's distressing that we've become accustomed to thinking that a horrible academic job market is just some natural state of affairs, that it takes two, three, or more years to land a halfway decent job somewhere, and that being a well-trained, broadly competent teacher with an interesting research agenda isn't enough to guarantee you at least an okay career. It seems just as wrong-headed as thinking that it's just inevitable that all of the jobs in Flint move to Mexico, or that it's just natural that jobs at WalMart pay low wages with scant benefits.

  21. Apparently, if Geoff is right, I don't deserve an academic job, since I'm not competent to teach Ancient philosophy. I of course think that you should actually know some ancient Greek in order to do it – of course, Geoff mentions any "100" level course in those areas, but Ancient philosophy is typically not taught as a course at the freshman level, and it is usually required for the major, and most departments (maybe not Geoff's, I don't know what it is) want someone who actually has some decent competence in the history courses that are central to the philosophy major – they think that not just "anyone" should be able to teach these courses. Indeed, this is why it is good advice to graduate students to develop a competence in some area of history…

  22. Steve Marsh (Ethesis)

    Interesting. Thirty years ago when I was taking classes, the requirement that one spoke the native language wasn't something I saw on any of the professor's vitaes for the Greek (though it was for the German) and it doesn't seem to be on the adjuncts vitaes these days when I talk to siblings' kids either. Though my Philosophy of India class was taught by an ethnic Indian who spoke a number of the languages, my Philosophy of China class the same.

    That said, the thought that one should speak the core language associated with the area does make sense.

    Thought I'd quote from a friend's comments on the thread.

    Do you want to know why grad schools aren't training people in ethics even though that's the field most in demand? My program is in fact the exception to that phenomenon. We all have to teach our way through the program. We get farmed out to the undergrad schools to teach intro classes and make up a large portion of the 60% part-time faculty. So, the students who finish from my school are all very well trained in teaching everything.

    If your question is why don't metaphysicians want to teach ethics? I can answer that. I do metaphysics and find ethics repulsive. Not because I think it's less rigorous but because I like the abstraction of analytic philosophy. I want to get away from the mess of humanity, not to get all involved in human problems. I want to spend my time in an intellectual realm where real numbers and shapes reside, not slobby, evil people. Therefore, I find it yucky trying to explain the slobby evil people. . . .

    However, I did teach a 300 level ethics class last semester that was fun. Someone in the thread you linked to compared teaching undergrad philosophy to teaching undergrad physics. I think that's a good analogy. In survey classes you get to teach the basic concepts that made you fall in love with it in the first place. But none of my students would understand my thesis work.

    The reason I agreed to teach . . . was to increase my employability. It required a lot of prep work but I think it was worth it. So I probably agree with you.

    I've learned a lot from following this thread. Nothing that applies to anything, but it was interesting, none-the-less.

  23. (Note to moderator: I realize this is an old thread, but it still comes up on search engines, and i'm still reading it, for one – too late to post?)

    Wait… You mean even with a PhD in Philosophy, it might not be easy to find a job?
    Just kidding.
    If the fact that I'm still an undergrad doesn't totally disqualify me from having anything to contribute to this discussion, perhaps i can contribute by virtue of my perspective as a student who has, in the past few years, taken ugrad philosophy courses taught by both grad students and full professors (and everything else that lies between). I have actually found the grad students to be the 'better' teachers – as subjective as that is – for my elementary classes, which may suggest some entirely different issues (and I am by no means here to challenge the competency of seasoned veterans of academia), but is also pertinent to the issue of whether or not grad students are competent to teach intro courses. For example, I only wish I had the grad student (really ABD, I believe) who taught my 101 and 201 classes (baby logic and, er… toddler logic?) for my 220 class (intro to theory of knowledge). In the case of the latter course, the professor, who has been teaching for twice the time I've inhabited this world, seemed uninterested, if not bored to tears with the material, and as a result was not engaging, not comprehensive, and I essentially had to teach myself. By contrast, the aforementioned grad student (whose AOS, I believe, happens to be epistemology, not formal logic) was more interesting, responsive, available and approachable, and on the whole more effective at teaching the material. Conversely, I doubt he could ever have brought to the discussion of Philosophical Ideas in Science Fiction (261), Philosophy of Science (425), or Logic of Decision Making (424), what the professor who teaches those courses was capable of. These are but a few specific examples.
    There are some obvious problems with my largely anecdotal analysis: it is based on an extremely small test sample, so to speak; it is highly subjective; it could be considered rather inconclusive, if not entirely circumstantial; and the relatively high competency of Rutgers grad students may screw up the 'grade curve' for the rest of 'em (benign school pride – just ignore it). However I suspect it may be indicitave of a greater trend – after all, do tenured professors really want to teach baby logic? Maybe they do, for all I know. I'm just an undergrad.
    As a soon-to-be grad student, however, I eagerly anticipate the opportunity to teach baby logic, or even introductory epistemology (though we'll see how bright-eyed and bushy-tailed I am when I have a full graduate course load with which to balance them). I'm pretty confident I could teach 101 right now, if I had to, and I'm positive I could have taught the Intro to Epistemology course better than my professor did – and many of my classmates would agree with me. And just to clarify: while that may sound arrogant, I am not suggesting I know more than my professor does about Epistemology; I merely would have been much less bored with the task, and more effective in that regard.
    With all that in mind, is there really a crisis of the current grad students or recent PhDs (who are presently teaching many, if not most of the intro classes) not being able to teach the classes they seem to be consistently teaching anyway (and even if so, should anybody even be considering Philosophy who can't teach themselves baby logic if they have to? – but that is suggesting more than I'd like to defend)? Again, I truly don't know the answer to this question, and admittedly my limited experience can't provide it. But in short, from an undergrad's POV, I've not noticed an incompetence among newer teachers teaching intro courses; rather the opposite has been true for me.

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