Over the past eight months I have read a number of blog posts and had a fair number of conversations via email and in person about the current state of the humanities in the West, and the likelihood–or lack thereof–of me finding a tenure track position when I have my PhD in hand. Earlier this summer there was a bit of a discussion in the biblioblogosphere about whether or not tenure was a good thing. I’ve also read numerous blog posts encouraging students not to go into the humanities, but instead to do something “better” (which is normally defined as having an easier time finding a higher paying job), like becoming a lawyer or an engineer, or doing something in a computer science field.
Given my present situation–a student currently without a program–I’ve been doing a great deal of thinking about my chances of finding a job (either now at a junior college or at a private high school, or later once I have my PhD). This whole process has caused me to reevaluate a great many things. I’ll give you the short version first: I’m not changing my plans. Now for the long version.
The idea that one ought to decide not to go into biblical studies or theology specifically, religion generally or the humanities even more generally, because there isn’t a lot of money in it is simply laughable. Plenty of people, regardless of personal faith commitments, do things that don’t make them a lot of money. Teachers are often underpaid in any field. Police and firefighters put their lives on the line constantly and are hardly looking at six digit incomes in most communities. A whole host of other occupations are filled by people who enjoy them and do them because they like them, not because they’re likely to make large sums of money. The argument that there simply aren’t enough jobs in our field is a much better argument, and one of which I am acutely aware.
Ultimately, however, I began this journey towards a PhD because I want to teach people the Bible. Whether I do so in a tenured position is absolutely besides the point. In fact, I personally think that tenure is silly. No other field has such job security. More often than not I think it allows bad teachers to continue teaching when they ought to be replaced by teachers who actually care about the students they’re teaching. Once again, in my opinion, if you want to write articles and books in a hole for your whole life, go do so–but don’t take a teaching position that ought to have someone who is more concerned with teaching students than pushing out that next article [UPDATE 8/25/2010, 7:55EST - Let me be clear, I do not mean by this to insult those professors who have achieved tenure (or are on the road to doing so) and who care about teaching their students. I also do not mean to suggest that research is unimportant. I greatly enjoy research and writing. My point is simply that if one is in a teaching position, the teaching ought to--at least!--be of equal importance to the research.] Publish or perish is the rule–but what about teaching the next generation of scholars/pastors/rabbis/etc?
For me, I continue on this path because there is only one thing in life I will be happy doing as an occupation: teaching the Bible and related topics to people. What shape that takes really doesn’t matter, as long as I’m teaching people. I think that the Christian Church needs a greater number of qualified scholars who are actively teaching both inside local congregations and inside the academy. There are, of course, other issues involved here that would require another post entirely to fully detail.
In summary, I’m passionate about teaching and I can’t imagine doing anything else. I also hope to be one of those people who God uses to edify his Church via helping people understand more about their holy book, the Bible.
A thoughtful post, Calvin. Like everyone else, I’m having conversations like those you describe, whether with colleagues, or students, or family.
I’ve certainly had family members and friends go into jobs that are *not* all about the money: elementary and secondary education, social work, theater. They’re able to be realistic about what they can have or not have, and they get by…although they are at the end of the middle class that is getting liquidated most rapidly by those who vote for trickle-down, cheap-labor politicians.
What’s different for us, though, is the adjunctification of our field. An adjunct might teach a full 3-2 load, plus a summer session, meeting with students, creating all her own preps, putting in 40-50 hours in a week…and net perhaps $15,000 (or less!) in a year. And that is simply not enough to survive on even for a single person, and it may not be enough even with a spouse who is in one of the “better” jobs.
And that’s if one can even *get* that kind of adjunct work. If one can, it’s likely to be spread out over two or three schools…again, if one is lucky enough to live near that many schools, or can find opportunity to teach them online. These days, though, the same schools that took on adjuncts to save money are deciding to cut those adjunct positions and simply force the few full-timers to teach the maximum of their contract.
I guess my point is, adjunctification is different from the traditional “do it for love” jobs, because there’s no expectation in the field that a person ought to be able to make even a minimum-wage living. That doesn’t mean nobody do the job–I did, for five years, and God help me I may have to face the choice again–but it does mean that many, many good educators will be unable to do it, because it’s not remotely a livable wage.
I’m not telling students not to go for it. But, the conversations we have are quite different from the old, “Think hard about it and have something to fall back on” chats from my own grad-school days. These days, I think a student should have a clear, workable plan for surviving the first three years out of Ph.D work without even adjunct work in the field.
All this said: yes, I like what I do, as precarious as it is, and I’m grateful every day for the blessings that have permitted it (so far) against the odds.
Calvin,
You’re making pretty huge generalizations with the statement,
“In fact, I personally think that tenure is silly. No other field has such job security. More often than not I think it allows bad teachers to continue teaching when they ought to be replaced by teachers who actually care about the students they’re teaching.”
As someone who just successfully achieved tenure, has excellent teaching evaluations, and has no plans to either 1) stop improving my teaching or 2) slow down my research (or my learning of new things), that really rubs me the wrong way. (And I have a stay-at-home wife, 4 children, and a 5th on the way!)
Yes, I’m sure there are those who take advantage of the tenure process, but in the 5 institutions I’ve attended and/or taught at, there are more who continue to do the best they can.
Moreover, institutions of higher learning are infamously political places and one may find oneself on the wrong side of a Machiavellian dean, provost, or president — a situation that may or may not have anything to do with one’s faith commitments or philosophical positions of any kind.
So let me just say this. Tenure can be a good thing and so far most of those I’ve read who are complaining about it are outside the process and may be suffering from bitter envy.
With that said, I can assure Brook and others that those of us *within* academic departments (at least, this is true of my modestly-sized department) don’t like adjunctification in the humanities (it’s not just in ANE/biblical studies). That’s a decision that is coming from the top down and when we’re faced with either 1) a course not being funded at all or 2) adjunct funding, we take the second choice and hope that the teaching experience helps the adjunct find a better job in the next job season.
I was a full-time adjunct for 3 years (1 semester at a private Christian college and 2.5 years at a state institution — the state pays a heck of a lot better; it was livable) before I was hired in a tenure-track position. It’s not a bad path (if the pay is livable, although my definition of livable includes a lot of pasta and ramen). I was rewarded with a year towards my leave (which I’m on this year) due to my extensive teaching experience. Moreover, I was a much more attractive candidate in the first place.
Robert Holmstedt
Brooke — apologies more misspelling your name!
@Brooke, You bring up some good points. The field of biblical studies certainly does suffer from the issue of low paying adjunct work. It is certainly something that is in my mind as Mandy and I continue to plan for PhD work. Of course, at present any kind of issue such as this is highlighted, but I imagine that it will continue to be an issue even if the economy improves dramatically.
@Dr. Holmstedt, Congrats on the new little one on the way! I freely admit that the post contains generalizations. My intent was not to say that tenure automatically makes good teachers stop caring about teaching. If a professor genuinely cares about teaching, I expect that will continue after achieving tenure. However, I have experienced tenured professors who care very little for teaching or advising students and prefer to do research. There is nothing wrong with research, of course, but if one is in a teaching position the teaching ought to be important as well. I’m sure we’ve all heard anecdotal stories to this effect as well. By no means did I mean this as a slam against professors who have tenure, and I’ll update the post to make that more clear.
I suppose the biggest issue I see in tenure is summed up in that well known saying, “Publish or perish,” I’d prefer something more like “Teach and publish or perish.” Unfortunately, my version lacks the alliteration of the original.
Calvin,
From what I’ve observed (by watching colleagues or simply asking the question when I was interviewing for those 5 difficult years on the market), “publish or perish” affects only a small segment of biblical studies faculty — those at large(r) universities.
For those at seminaries or mid-sized to smaller colleges — especially those the self-identify as teaching-based institutions, conference participation, a few well-placed articles, and indication of a research agenda that relates to one’s teaching area seems to work fine *as long as* teaching excellence (or a commitment to working towards it with a clear record of improvement) is demonstrated.
I’m sure their is anecdotal evidence that contradicts what I’ve observed, but rarely is the problem with *tenure* itself. It seems to me what you’ve got a problem with is an institutional mentality. The professors you’ve observed — those who like to do research and spend little time on teaching excellent — are there because the institutional administration craves the *perceived* prestige that comes with research prominence. Remember that the tenure review typically doesn’t come until the 5th or 6th year of a new professor’s career. During that time, it is darned hard to hide one’s weaknesses. Thus, if one is a poor teacher, the department and faculty know exactly that they’re getting. If they keep the person, *they* all share the blame, not tenure itself.
I agree that teaching positions and teaching institutions should stress, encourage, and reward excellence in teaching. But, again, if an institution chooses to fill one of those spots with a poor teacher because he/she is a good researcher — that’s not a problem with tenure, that’s a problem with the focus and hiring process of the institution.
The fact remains the tenure doesn’t primarily provide job stability (it is admittedly a nice feature, though); rather, I can tell you from personal and recent experience that it provides for the protection of the expression of opinions, whether of a curricular nature of not, and it safeguards the pursuit of truth regardless where it may lead (and regardless of the ever-changing winds of campus culture as well as the culture beyond the campus).
And thank you for your good wishes re: #5.
Thanks for the post. It seems that we are in similar situations. I have just finished 2 masters and am applying for PhD programs (I applied last year, but did not get accepted anywhere). I have had quite a few of these conversations as well, but my main thought and response is simply that there is nothing else I could imagine doing with my life. I’m adjuncting this semester for the meager pay to give me something to do and some teaching experience, but I certainly have as my goal a full-time teaching position on the other side of a PhD.
It’s great to know that there are others out there with the same passion for teaching that won’t be dissuaded by the fear of not getting a job. Best of luck in your and Mandy’s PhD quest.