Learning to cope
Part 3
by James Surowiecki
At Harvard and BU, the academic job crisis seems at once bigger and smaller
than the universities themselves. Bigger, because the decline in the number of
jobs in the humanities is a systemic problem -- too widespread, arguably, to be
challenged by a single school. And smaller, because hiring at these
institutions, as in most of academia, is handled by the departments themselves
-- and one of the few things the available statistics do make clear is that job
prospects vary significantly by field and even by subfield. That's a vagary
that the university as a whole is probably too big to manage.
"Talking about the job market in globalized terms is deceptive," says Harvard
dean Margot Gill. "It really does depend on what discipline or subdiscipline
you're in." And J. Scott Whitaker, an associate dean at BU, suggests that it's
at the departmental level that one can best get a sense of what's being done --
or not done -- for graduate students. "For each department, we want a sense of
how well the curriculum is matched to students' needs, and how well it prepares
them for the job market," Scott Whitaker says. "That's an ongoing process, but
last year we initiated a series of program reviews on a rolling basis to look
at the curriculum, to look at the research and scholarly opportunities, and to
try to figure out how well we're preparing our students and what kind of world
we're sending them out into."
What remains unclear, though, is how much difference departmental reviews of
that kind can make. As Gill points out, the job market in each specialty
changes significantly from year to year. If you were a scholar of Francophone
literature, for instance, this would have been a good year to be on the market,
whereas if you specialized in 18th-century English satire, you might have found
interviews hard to come by. Next year, the situation could be reversed. Can
departments really hope to keep up with these fluctuations, recalibrating their
curricula according to every shift in academic fashion? In a changing market,
such a policy might not be worth the effort.
And although there are any number of universities embarking on radical
restructuring programs at the departmental level -- many designed to eliminate
weaker departments entirely -- no plans of that kind have been announced at
Boston-area universities. For their part, university administrators here don't
seem to believe that they have a real role to play in shaping the way
departments respond to the new realities of the market. The deans' emphasis on
the importance of individual departments may simply be an admission that, as
administrators, they have limited power to improve conditions for their
graduate students.
There are other departmental strategies at BU and Harvard for dealing with the
job shortage, but these are generally narrow in scope. Humanities departments
at both universities have, like the schools' administrations, instituted
programs designed to help graduate students find jobs, including workshops in
how to write an application letter and prepare a curriculum vitae, and mock
interviews conducted by members of the faculty. And there are certain
departments that seem to be informally emphasizing to their students the
importance of publishing articles before they actually go on the market (though
there seems to be no consensus on whether this is useful advice). But larger
questions about the purpose of graduate education, and what changes a continued
overproduction of PhDs will bring -- which are the questions that might be most
likely to lead to broader change -- seem not to be topics of real discussion.
Though these questions may be of abstract interest to department members, they
pale next to the responsibilities of teaching, department meetings, advising,
and scholarly work. To understand and even change a system that results in 400
candidates applying for a single job, it will be necessary to ask questions
that reach to the heart of academia's future.
"I actually think that the purpose of graduate education is something we
should be talking about," says Schor. "The instruction that we give is very
much geared to what it already has been -- that is to say, reproducing people
like ourselves. It's a kind of cloning, you might say. Unfortunately, there is
no market out there that can give jobs to people like us. There are jobs, of
course, but they're very few and far between. And we have not only to make our
students aware of this fact, which they are already, but we should be
constantly rethinking what we are training them for."
Schor points to the psychological, as well as professional, importance of
graduate students to their professors: the self-reproduction she's talking
about helps define the world of an academic. If, as Schor puts it,
"universities get to the point where we have one graduate student a year," the
university will still exist, but university professors, at least in the way
that we have traditionally understood them, will not.
James Surowiecki has written for Lingua Franca and the Village
Voice, and is a regular contributor to PLS.