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“Unreliable” philosophers

Brian Leiter

An untenured philosopher writes:

I was wondering if I could solicit an opinion from you and/or your readers.

In my short career thus far, I have encountered a surprising number of philosophers who are "unreliable," one might say. I am not even referring to dubious behavior from journals. I'm talking about individuals who agree to read a draft, and then never do. I'm talking about carefully crafted emails being ignored. I'm talking about people who say they will recommend or campaign for you heartily, but then become coy when it matters. This is not just with senior faculty–I've been treated this way by folks at my own rank. (I don't believe I'm prone to offend people…)

So one question is whether such behavior is generally tolerated/accepted, as part of the culture of the discipline.

But more importantly, how can one respond to someone non-responsive?

Since I am at my most professionally vulnerable stage, I can hardly afford to upset anyone. The main alternatives, it seems, are to sound whining or annoying–or to just keep quiet. None of these seem very good options.

I am inclined to think "just keep quiet" is the only option–that, and make a note about who is reliable and who isn't.  One can't generally force people to honor their representations or to be responsive, even when an e-mail has been "carefully crafted."  Of course, if the philosopher is someone with whom you have a substantial relationship (say, a dissertation adviser, a longtime mentor, etc.), then reminders would be appropriate.  What do readers think? Signed comments preferred, but all comments must include a valid e-mail address, which will not appear.

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19 responses to ““Unreliable” philosophers”

  1. Dennis Whitcomb

    If someone is unrelable, don't try to fix them – they are almost certainly going to stay unreliable no matter what you do. Don't try to "manage" them either – being their secretary is too much of a drain on your own resources. Just move on. Leave them to their own devices, and build working relationships with reliable people instead.

    Reply
  2. Aaron Garrett

    Frankly judgments of unreliability are also quite unreliable.

    Reply
  3. Brian Bix

    There are a surprising number of unreliable academics (my experience is primarily in Philosophy and Law, but I have seen them in other disciplines as well). What initially surprised me was that the likelihood of unreliability seemed to increase with stature (though, I should emphasize, I have known many very reliable top-tier academics). Perhaps, though, the correlation makes sense: the best scholars, like the best athletes and actors, can get away with things the rest of us cannot. They will not be effectively "punished" — if they fail to contribute the article they promised for the collection, or to give the conference paper they promised to give, they will still get plenty of invitations, because scholars of that status are always in demand. As Brian L. states, one should take note of who is unreliable for one's own use (and to advise others, "off the record"), but I agree with BL that it would be unwise for an untenured scholar to try to do anything to punish or shame an unreliable senior scholar.

    Reply
  4. Richard

    People are busy. Even with the best intentions, life gets in the way.

    Remember who the good mentors are. Thank them profusely and appreciate them. Look for ways to repay their favour – perhaps by offering comments on their papers – and take those commitments as seriously as they do theirs. But maybe don't advertise their generosity too much to others; you wouldn't want to overwhelm them.

    Filter out the unreliable mentors. They aren't going to be helpful anyway. If you absolutely must have them on board (for example, if they are a PhD supervisor), give them plenty of notice and a series of firm but polite emails. If the still aren't reliable, just make sure you have some extra letter-writers on board.

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  5. Maureen Eckert

    If you manage to discover the secret wormhole through which all of the reliable human beings are drawn and extracted from this universe, please send word where it is before leaping through to the other, dependable side.

    I think people are lucky to have around a handful of colleagues, maybe four or five, who can be relied upon to read drafts of their papers in progress. My tiny, reliable group of draft-reading colleagues slowly materialized as I began reliably reading their draft papers. I remember this starting to happen when I was a graduate student and vulnerable in the profession and realized just how unreliable people were.

    Reply
  6. Neil Easterbrook

    Much of the time, however, people are simply busy, and put an earlier promise into a position of low priority. Or they forget, for pretty much the same reasons. A polite reminder would be appropriate, no matter what level, from untenured to grad student. One simple way to make such a reminder would be to couple it with a kind invitation, such as an offer of lunch. But yes, if despite a polite reminder or offer of a nice lunch meets silence, then probably the best bet is to seek out others, either at yr own university or elsewhere. Alas, this sort of thing happens to us all.

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  7. John

    I've always had good enough luck splitting the horns (being annoying; keeping quiet). Remind people, at an opportune time, via a medium they know how to use, what they've said they'll do. In fact, I think this (along with other things) promotes a general sense of mutual accountability in a department.

    Help them whenever you can. There is good reason to think that directing your efforts toward helping your colleagues is the best way to succeed.

    http://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/31/magazine/is-giving-the-secret-to-getting-ahead.html

    Reply
  8. Jeff McMahan

    Perhaps a few words from a serial offender will help. I am reliable about writing letters of reference and about reviewing manuscripts for journals before the assigned deadline. I am pretty reliable about commenting on manuscripts that I agree to read but it often takes me a long time some manuscripts do get lost at the bottom of what is always a very large stack and never get read or commented on. I am dreadful about replying to emails, even important ones – and especially ones inviting or requesting me to do something I know I ought not to commit myself to doing. I know some philosophers who agree to do an enormous amount and are always astonishingly efficient at getting it all done. Some of us read and write much faster than others and manage to accomplish a lot more. I am one of the others who read very slowly and write slowly. I haven't been anywhere near being caught up just with my publishing commitments in at least ten years. When I'm struggling to meet a publication deadline – and I am continuously in that condition – an email often seems like it can wait. But of course they then scroll off the screen, pile up in a huge backlog in one's inbox, and so on. Because of this, I and some others I know who are similarly overcommitted and insufficiently efficient to get caught up, live with a continuous burden of guilt for failing to satisfy people's expectations. I suspect that some other philosophers who are regarded by some as unreliable are in the same predicament. There's simply not enough time to fulfill all of one's commitments, and the need to answer an email is not a commitment that one can avoid taking on. The email arrives and requires a reply. I say this not to elicit sympathy but to help those like "untenured philosopher" who are frustrated with the unreliability of some of their colleagues to understand that the situation I have described may be part of the explanation of the unreliability.

    I urge my students and colleagues to nag me when they need something from me that I owe them. That's one way in which I try to make sure I don't neglect my most important commitments. On the assumption that there are others who are like me in this respect, I think, contrary to what Brian says in his post, that it's usually worth trying a polite letter to remind someone of a commitment they've made, or re-sending an email that has gone unanswered. The politely re-sent email always grabs my conscience, thereby stimulating a response.

    Reply
  9. Steven Hales

    It seems to me that unreliability is not so much tolerated or part of the culture of philosophy as it is a general fact of life. I've edited several books and here's a rule of thumb I've learned the hard way: between 10%-20% of people who agreed to contribute will never come across. Nagging, deadline extensions, appeal to personal friendship–none of that will work. And the reasons for their unreliability rarely matter. Sometimes people have a genuine personal crisis that interferes with their work and apologize profusely for not coming through. Those folks you might ask again for something in the future. But for the rest, just make a mental list of who you can count on and who you can't and move on.

    Reply
  10. Michael Sevel

    Jeff McMahan's characterization of his situation is admirably honest, and one to which I suspect most of us can relate in at least some respects(especially factoring in teaching commitments, etc.). I think it picks out a whole host of professional norms in philosophy that I suppose has emerged over the last few decades, which (like our untenured philosopher) I find regrettable. What is striking to me is that when I share such things with my colleagues in the professional legal and corporate worlds, they are utterly astonished: such (chronic) behavior could, under the right circumstances, end a career in, e.g., legal practice or in corporate management – irrespective of one's status as "senior" or not.

    One way to approach the issue is ask: how (or why) is academic philosophy different? Two suggestions implicit in Jeff McMahan's comment are: (1) the typical work involved in doing philosophy is very time intensive, and (2) there's the danger of overcommittment. But these are hardly unique. What lawyers do, for example, can be extremely time intensive. And some of the lawyers, accountants, and people in business I know are "overcommitted", if anyone is, and yet aren't "unreliable" in the relevant sense(s). The difference might lie in the different measures of reputation. It's of the essence of the business of lawyers, for example, to submit court documents by their (non-negotiable) deadlines, or to call their clients back within a reasonable time. A lawyer's reputation would suffer immensely should she fail in these respects (quite apart from her advocacy skills, etc.). By contrast, if Brian Leiter agrees to read a draft of mine, and a year after receipt I haven't heard a word, then I suppose there's a sense in which his reputation has suffered (in my eyes at least), but of course a sense in which it hasn't: it's still the case that Brian Leiter has published lots of interesting and insightful books and articles, runs a popular blog, and so on. (And I use BL as an ironic example – many will know he's a model of reliability!)

    Reply
  11. m.

    While unreliability is a part of human nature (it seems), it is not tolerated by most employers since by and large employers keep an eye on their staff's work.

    Some work philosophers do is different. The primary worries so far have been: (1) not responding to emails, (2) not reading or commenting on drafts one has promised to look at (and usually also fail to send a courtesy email notifying the other party one will not be able to look, which would be nice), (3) 'fail to recommend or campaign for [one] heartily', when promised, (4) not contribute to works one has committed oneself to.

    These sorts of issues seem tolerated because no employer is looking at whether or not a philosopher has lived up to these sorts of duties, at least in particular cases (though for tenure, one's overall work will be looked at). Maybe there is leeway for philosophers to be unreliable in certain areas while in most careers unreliability is not tolerated. This may exacerbate unreliability. Those who commit (1)-(4) may not feel it is always their job and are instead merely failing to live up to a courtesy for another (and may be right sometimes).

    But maybe I'm off base.

    Reply
  12. Neil Mehta

    I've noticed that some folks who are unreliable via one medium – say, e-mail – are very reliable via other media – say, phone calls or office visits. Obviously, one cannot call or visit the office of everyone from whom one requires a reply. Still, it might be useful to try a different method of contacting seemingly unreliable colleagues within one's own university.

    Reply
  13. Kathryn Norlock

    Yes, remind once politely, remind a second time with more encouragement, and then move on. I would add to "just keep quiet" the further recommendation, "and assume you don't really know their characters." I say this as someone who is already considered a reliable character by those whose requests I've met and an unreliable character by a few whose requests I gracelessly gave up struggling to meet. Does my character really change from instance to instance? I suggest it doesn't, and that the reasons for someone's failing are not transparent from a lack of email. I'm not innocent of presumption myself, and I, too, have interpreted an email silence to indicate a person's (un)reliability. But this just means we tend to lack humility in our judgments when we're smarting from personal disappointment. Especially with email, we think we left the ball in someone's court, but we don't really see why they had to leave the court.

    Reply
  14. M. Couch

    Following up on Neil Mehta's comment, I'll share an anecdote I have. Years ago I was talking with D. Lewis at a reception after he'd given a departmental talk. As a grad student I was interested in some of his work, and I asked if I could email him later if I had more questions. He replied: "Don't send me an email. If it's important, send me a letter in the mail and I'll be sure to reply."

    Reply
  15. Mike Otsuka

    I try hard to meet deadlines, and I usually succeed. In part because of this, things without deadlines tend to fall by the wayside — including requests for comments on drafts. If others are like me, it will be useful to mention when comments will be most useful and after which date they will be too late. Then I can write a deadline into my diary. I've noticed that this is something Peter Vallentyne does when he sends drafts out. (No need to do this if you ask HIM for comments, however, since he must be the speediest person alive when it comes to turnaround time.)

    Reply
  16. untenured

    Sometimes, the issue is not just that obligations are unfulfilled. It is also that one feels flatly ignored. (Then the question arises if the person's undergrads get the same treatment..and either way, the answer is a bit aggravating.)

    We all understand if things become unexpectedly busy–so a short email saying as much makes a tremendous difference. It's not just a matter of professionalism, but also of manners.

    Also, sometimes folks underestimate how honesty is valued. Once, I had Big Famous Philosopher very politely reply that, in all honesty, his schedule did not allow another commitment at this time. I was very grateful for his honesty, instead of stringing me along for months.

    Reply
  17. Filippo Contesi

    Given my (admittedly limited) personal experience, I too feel that the problem of unreliability is very widespread within academic philosophy. I also have the feeling that it is taken with much less frowned upon and has much fewer disciplinary consequences than in other professional environments. Michael Sevel's analysis on this seems very accurate to me. One little step forward would be to start *condemning* relevant cases of unreliability as *unprofessional*. My own experience (in the UK) tells me this is something academic philosophers are much less inclined, or even consider acceptable, to do than one would think! Unreliability might have fewer serious consequences on certain valuable aspects of the academic profession than it does in the case of other jobs… but this doesn't seem to me to excuse it from the point of view of professionalism!

    Reply
  18. peter

    I spent two decades in industry before returning to academia (not in Philosophy), and I too was struck by how unreliable many academics are when compared to the people I'd worked with in business. I concluded from this that business people know that promises very often have important consequences – ie, that failure to fulfil a commitment, even when the commitment is only verbal, may result in loss of money, or loss of a sale or future business, or loss of reputation. As a result, most senior business people IME are extremely careful about making promises or committing themselves or their companies to actions, expecially when the success of the actions depends on uncertain factors. And any commitments that are made are often hedged with qualifications and conditions.

    Because the consequences in academia of unfulfilled commitments are, in general, far less severe than in busines, people seem to make them more freely, and worry much less about fulfilling them. These statements are all gross generalizations, of course, and there are many exceptions on both sides.

    Reply
  19. Anon graduate student

    A few people are speculating about why academics are relatively unreliable (if in fact they are). In that vein I wonder:

    There's evidence that graduate students suffer from elevated rates of depression and anxiety–there are striking numbers in a CHE article from 2009–and it wouldn't surprise me to learn that professors suffer from comparably elevated rates. It's my somewhat informed sense that we who are depressed or anxious sometimes struggle (hard) to be reliable, and–in my case, anyway–fail more often than we'd like, especially when the guilt that Jeff McMahan describes leads to much less productive thoughts. Could relatively high rates of depression and anxiety partly explain the alleged fact that academics are relatively unreliable?

    (It's probably not the whole story. Other people make interesting points about social norms and incentives. And just to be clear: I don't offer this hypothesis to excuse or justify anyone's unreliable behavior.)

    Reply

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