The COVID-19 pandemic tested (and continues to exert an impact on) numerous aspects of daily life. Nowhere has this been more profound than with lots of peoples’ relationship with their jobs, work, and careers. Many individuals discovered how much their work cared about them and vice versa.
Some workers struggled and prevailed. They were able to make the transition to remote or hybrid work and feel good about the outcome. Others had come to Jesus moments questioning their commitment to their jobs, bosses, co-workers, employers, etc. This situation led to such phenomena as quiet quitting, and the great resignation.
Academia has witnessed similar patterns. Numerous people connected to colleges and universities, from Ph.D. students quitting their programs to tenured full professors have announced that they are leaving or have left.
Their complaints centered around major themes like an overabundance of uncompensated service, toxic work environments, the publish or perish treadmill, shitty salaries, overwork, overly ideological or woke departments and scholarly fields, and the high sacrifice versus rewards of academia.
Some of the people who quit academia did this relatively silently while others announced it on social media, occasionally with rounds of applause from friends, colleagues and followers.
A handful of those who are leaving academia indicate that they are now working for nonprofits, or in the private sector, and some are more specific with respect to the job they are moving to (generally tech-related).
Unless you are independently wealthy, just won the lottery, or expect to get a big inheritance, my biggest question to those quitting academia is do you really think things will be that much better outside of academia? Most jobs and careers have significant drawbacks, including the ones people identify as their reasons for quitting academia (albeit in greater or lesser quantities).
For example, if quitting academia enables you to move to your dream location, what is the cost of living, availability of appropriate social connections, alternative job opportunities, and working conditions there? Will the new job situation really allow you to spend more time with your loved ones?
If the job you’re moving to has a considerably higher salary, will you have to work longer hours, a significantly different time zone, or even twelve months a year?
Many people want at least a middle class income. Some believe that this is attainable by working in an in demand profession. But most of those careers (e.g., architects, engineers, lawyers, etc.) also require entry level workers to work long hours (and make sacrifices) if they want to make it to the next rung to escape from the more mundane aspects of the job.
Alternatively if you want to open your own business (or work for a startup) this often requires long hours and you are faced with lots of unpredictable kinds of curve balls, not to mention the damning statistic that most businesses fail within the first year.
I’m not saying don’t quit academia, but think twice about quitting the hallowed halls of colleges and universities for the reasons you proffer, and assume that the grass is always greener on the other side.
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/Screen-Shot-2022-08-27-at-1.59.17-PM.png388821Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2022-08-28 15:56:542022-10-02 12:18:03Quitting Academia: Is the grass really greener on the other side?
Aspiring scholars are often advised and sometimes required to develop and provide a research agenda.
This written document is supposed to review and summarize a well thought out idea about the kinds of research an individual scholar performs, how they go about doing it, the question/s they answer (or want to answer), and why it’s important to pursue. There should also be a logic that undergirds the research the scholar has done and wants to continue doing.
Research agendas are frequently important components used in the hiring, promotion and awards process in academia.
Committees that review these documents use them to determine the appropriateness of the researchers’ question/s, if the candidate’s work will complement or be tangential to the expertise of the members of academic institutions, and to gauge how academically serious the scholar and their work is.
On the flip side, if a candidates’ approach to subject matter/research questions and method are lacking, they are sometimes perceived to be un or poorly informed, possibly confused, and even superficial. Likewise, moving (i.e., often pejoratively labelled “flittering”) from one idea to another and/or engaging in “opportunistic research” is frequently frowned up, and the candidate is perceived to be unserious.
These latter reactions obscures many realities.
First, when you are a junior scholar, struggling to build a vita, you need to seize as many promising research opportunities (i.e., ones that will lead to relatively quick publication) including ones that may be considered to be low hanging fruit. Sometimes these topics are in diverse fields on different subjects.
Second, many aspiring academics have (or had) nonexistent or poor mentoring. In particular their doctoral supervisor did a poor good job assisting their graduate students explore subjects and questions that may have led to good jobs, publications in respected journals, or appropriate scholarly exposure.
Third, sometimes individuals are ill-suited for a traditional career in academia where in addition to teaching and service instructors and professors are required to conduct scholarly research. This research should not simply be the preparation they do for their classes, nor papers presented at conferences, but the work that is the product of peer-review and typically published in peer-reviewed journals.
Fifth, just because a scholar successfully completes a dissertation and has a few articles under their belt does not mean that they are really in a position to know what their research agenda is. Research agendas frequently change over the lifespan of scholars.
Sixth, for many academics having a research agenda is a luxury, an aspirational kind of thing. These instructors or professors may work at institutions of higher learning where they have heavy teaching and service loads, and thus neither have sufficient release time, nor sabbaticals where they can devote large chunks of time to doing important research that follows a consistent theme or delves deeply into a subject. They may also have many competing realities in their lives like child and elder care responsibility which minimizes the amount of time they have to conduct scholarly research.
Most importantly, research agendas should not be confused with impact (another poorly understood concept in the field of academia). Just because a research agenda is well thought out does not mean that the scholar has impact in their field and beyond.
It’s for these reasons, that it’s important reconsider the role and place of research agendas. They should be a guide, tool, but not a straitjacket.
Photo credit:
Marc NL
A straitjacket as seen from the rear
A Posey straitjacket (medium-size) with added restraints seen from the rear.
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/Screen-Shot-2022-08-20-at-7.19.30-AM.png4921170Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2022-08-20 14:04:432022-08-20 14:07:49Understanding scholarly research agendas
Over the past few decades attending large annual academic conferences has lost its appeal to many scholars and graduate students alike.
Participants frequently complain that these meetings are:
• too expensive,
• crowded, and
• artificial environments (e.g., almost everyone is on their best behavior).
On top of this, many attendees have difficulties with the quality of papers presented, the selection criteria for paper acceptance, the poor or lack of feedback on papers/posters, and the times at which panels are scheduled.
Now that measures have been developed and implemented to deal with the COVID-19 virus, and face-to-face academic conferences are resuming, these complaints seem to be rearing their ugly heads again.
Once again conference goers are asking themselves (and their colleagues) are large scale annual academic meetings really worth attending? In particular, they ask why should they subject themselves and others to this kind of expense and inconvenience, just to present a paper, meet colleagues who don’t live in the same city, and to network with likeminded people?
More specifically, are there better ways to achieve the intended goals of academic conference attendance, and address some of the recurrent problems that academic conference goers experience?
The short answer is yes, but there are also a number of alternatives that scholars might want to consider.
First, perhaps these conferences could be held less often, or scholars might want to attend them less frequently. This way they temporarily postpone the pain until they believe that it is almost entirely necessary to attend.
Second, if academics want to meet face to face with like-minded individuals, then perhaps conferences, or at least large scale annual academic ones is not (or rarely) the best place where this is going to occur. Instead, they might want to attend smaller conferences, with considerably less people in attendance, like ones held by regional academic associations, or ones that focus on relatively narrow subjects (e.g., symbolic interactionism, ethnographies, etc.). This may be one reason why numerous small divisions of larger academic organizations seem to proliferate. These types of meetings may not be held every year, so it’s important to keep one’s eye out for them.
Third, if it’s the feedback on your ideas that you want, then short of conducting research, writing up the findings in the form of a paper and submitting it to a peer review journal, then it might be helpful to join or form an informal research groups that meets (either face-to-face or on-line) on a regular basis. Similar to mastermind groups, these groups discuss papers they have written, are going to write, and may collaborate on grants they are going to seek.
As you go about your work this academic year ask yourself what do you really get from conferences? Perhaps attending annual meetings provides a break from the routine of teaching and research, and departmental, college and university service. Maybe attending conferences is a chance to take a break from your partner or even the kids.
The truth is that you really don’t’ need to attend large scale annual conferences to do good scholarly work, nor network with likeminded people.
What about the money that departments, colleges and universities earmark for faculty travel? Put it into an annual faculty research fund and have professors, instructors, and graduate students spend it any way they want as long as it’s in furtherance of their research.
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/2559900474_9dea8be8a1_c.jpg531800Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2022-08-13 16:04:372022-08-13 16:04:37Meet markets? Questioning the utility of large scale annual academic conferences
Quitting Academia: Is the grass really greener on the other side?
/by Jeffrey Ian RossThe COVID-19 pandemic tested (and continues to exert an impact on) numerous aspects of daily life. Nowhere has this been more profound than with lots of peoples’ relationship with their jobs, work, and careers. Many individuals discovered how much their work cared about them and vice versa.
Some workers struggled and prevailed. They were able to make the transition to remote or hybrid work and feel good about the outcome. Others had come to Jesus moments questioning their commitment to their jobs, bosses, co-workers, employers, etc. This situation led to such phenomena as quiet quitting, and the great resignation.
Academia has witnessed similar patterns. Numerous people connected to colleges and universities, from Ph.D. students quitting their programs to tenured full professors have announced that they are leaving or have left.
Their complaints centered around major themes like an overabundance of uncompensated service, toxic work environments, the publish or perish treadmill, shitty salaries, overwork, overly ideological or woke departments and scholarly fields, and the high sacrifice versus rewards of academia.
Some of the people who quit academia did this relatively silently while others announced it on social media, occasionally with rounds of applause from friends, colleagues and followers.
A handful of those who are leaving academia indicate that they are now working for nonprofits, or in the private sector, and some are more specific with respect to the job they are moving to (generally tech-related).
I get it academia is not perfect. It never was and will never be. And to succeed the average academic has to eat a lot of shit.
Unless you are independently wealthy, just won the lottery, or expect to get a big inheritance, my biggest question to those quitting academia is do you really think things will be that much better outside of academia? Most jobs and careers have significant drawbacks, including the ones people identify as their reasons for quitting academia (albeit in greater or lesser quantities).
For example, if quitting academia enables you to move to your dream location, what is the cost of living, availability of appropriate social connections, alternative job opportunities, and working conditions there? Will the new job situation really allow you to spend more time with your loved ones?
If the job you’re moving to has a considerably higher salary, will you have to work longer hours, a significantly different time zone, or even twelve months a year?
Many people want at least a middle class income. Some believe that this is attainable by working in an in demand profession. But most of those careers (e.g., architects, engineers, lawyers, etc.) also require entry level workers to work long hours (and make sacrifices) if they want to make it to the next rung to escape from the more mundane aspects of the job.
Alternatively if you want to open your own business (or work for a startup) this often requires long hours and you are faced with lots of unpredictable kinds of curve balls, not to mention the damning statistic that most businesses fail within the first year.
I’m not saying don’t quit academia, but think twice about quitting the hallowed halls of colleges and universities for the reasons you proffer, and assume that the grass is always greener on the other side.
Understanding scholarly research agendas
/by Jeffrey Ian RossAspiring scholars are often advised and sometimes required to develop and provide a research agenda.
This written document is supposed to review and summarize a well thought out idea about the kinds of research an individual scholar performs, how they go about doing it, the question/s they answer (or want to answer), and why it’s important to pursue. There should also be a logic that undergirds the research the scholar has done and wants to continue doing.
Research agendas are frequently important components used in the hiring, promotion and awards process in academia.
Committees that review these documents use them to determine the appropriateness of the researchers’ question/s, if the candidate’s work will complement or be tangential to the expertise of the members of academic institutions, and to gauge how academically serious the scholar and their work is.
On the flip side, if a candidates’ approach to subject matter/research questions and method are lacking, they are sometimes perceived to be un or poorly informed, possibly confused, and even superficial. Likewise, moving (i.e., often pejoratively labelled “flittering”) from one idea to another and/or engaging in “opportunistic research” is frequently frowned up, and the candidate is perceived to be unserious.
These latter reactions obscures many realities.
First, when you are a junior scholar, struggling to build a vita, you need to seize as many promising research opportunities (i.e., ones that will lead to relatively quick publication) including ones that may be considered to be low hanging fruit. Sometimes these topics are in diverse fields on different subjects.
Second, many aspiring academics have (or had) nonexistent or poor mentoring. In particular their doctoral supervisor did a poor good job assisting their graduate students explore subjects and questions that may have led to good jobs, publications in respected journals, or appropriate scholarly exposure.
Third, sometimes individuals are ill-suited for a traditional career in academia where in addition to teaching and service instructors and professors are required to conduct scholarly research. This research should not simply be the preparation they do for their classes, nor papers presented at conferences, but the work that is the product of peer-review and typically published in peer-reviewed journals.
Fourth, occasionally situations, like the current COVID-19 crisis appear, and the scholar is in an ideal position (e.g., they have a capable research skills or team) to conduct research and to make a valuable contribution to the literature. They may do some research on this subject and when the well runs dry (regardless of how this is defined), move on to another subject. Many good questions, data, and colleagues to work are presented to scholars not because they are doggedly looking for them but often through the process of proximity, propinquity, and serendipity.
Fifth, just because a scholar successfully completes a dissertation and has a few articles under their belt does not mean that they are really in a position to know what their research agenda is. Research agendas frequently change over the lifespan of scholars.
Sixth, for many academics having a research agenda is a luxury, an aspirational kind of thing. These instructors or professors may work at institutions of higher learning where they have heavy teaching and service loads, and thus neither have sufficient release time, nor sabbaticals where they can devote large chunks of time to doing important research that follows a consistent theme or delves deeply into a subject. They may also have many competing realities in their lives like child and elder care responsibility which minimizes the amount of time they have to conduct scholarly research.
Most importantly, research agendas should not be confused with impact (another poorly understood concept in the field of academia). Just because a research agenda is well thought out does not mean that the scholar has impact in their field and beyond.
It’s for these reasons, that it’s important reconsider the role and place of research agendas. They should be a guide, tool, but not a straitjacket.
Photo credit:
Marc NL
A straitjacket as seen from the rear
A Posey straitjacket (medium-size) with added restraints seen from the rear.
Meet markets? Questioning the utility of large scale annual academic conferences
/by Jeffrey Ian RossOver the past few decades attending large annual academic conferences has lost its appeal to many scholars and graduate students alike.
Participants frequently complain that these meetings are:
• too expensive,
• crowded, and
• artificial environments (e.g., almost everyone is on their best behavior).
On top of this, many attendees have difficulties with the quality of papers presented, the selection criteria for paper acceptance, the poor or lack of feedback on papers/posters, and the times at which panels are scheduled.
Now that measures have been developed and implemented to deal with the COVID-19 virus, and face-to-face academic conferences are resuming, these complaints seem to be rearing their ugly heads again.
Once again conference goers are asking themselves (and their colleagues) are large scale annual academic meetings really worth attending? In particular, they ask why should they subject themselves and others to this kind of expense and inconvenience, just to present a paper, meet colleagues who don’t live in the same city, and to network with likeminded people?
More specifically, are there better ways to achieve the intended goals of academic conference attendance, and address some of the recurrent problems that academic conference goers experience?
The short answer is yes, but there are also a number of alternatives that scholars might want to consider.
First, perhaps these conferences could be held less often, or scholars might want to attend them less frequently. This way they temporarily postpone the pain until they believe that it is almost entirely necessary to attend.
Second, if academics want to meet face to face with like-minded individuals, then perhaps conferences, or at least large scale annual academic ones is not (or rarely) the best place where this is going to occur. Instead, they might want to attend smaller conferences, with considerably less people in attendance, like ones held by regional academic associations, or ones that focus on relatively narrow subjects (e.g., symbolic interactionism, ethnographies, etc.). This may be one reason why numerous small divisions of larger academic organizations seem to proliferate. These types of meetings may not be held every year, so it’s important to keep one’s eye out for them.
Third, if it’s the feedback on your ideas that you want, then short of conducting research, writing up the findings in the form of a paper and submitting it to a peer review journal, then it might be helpful to join or form an informal research groups that meets (either face-to-face or on-line) on a regular basis. Similar to mastermind groups, these groups discuss papers they have written, are going to write, and may collaborate on grants they are going to seek.
As you go about your work this academic year ask yourself what do you really get from conferences? Perhaps attending annual meetings provides a break from the routine of teaching and research, and departmental, college and university service. Maybe attending conferences is a chance to take a break from your partner or even the kids.
The truth is that you really don’t’ need to attend large scale annual conferences to do good scholarly work, nor network with likeminded people.
What about the money that departments, colleges and universities earmark for faculty travel? Put it into an annual faculty research fund and have professors, instructors, and graduate students spend it any way they want as long as it’s in furtherance of their research.
The only thing that is preventing us from changing course is inflexibility or a failure to be creative. Falling back on the same routines by going to the annual learned society annual conference is not the only way to achieve its intended goals. Like so many other things in higher education, the conference attendance must be rethought.
Photo Credit:
Fred Davis
cows