The (potential) lies of academic pedigree

While updating myself on several of the blogs I read regularly I came across a few recent posts about the ever-present issue of the job market for history PhDs. Yes, it sucks. We all know that. What really bothers me is what I consider the cheapening of the PhD degree from certain universities. (See comment #34 here). The author of that comment, on the subject of requirements and expectations for graduate students states:

1. These “minimal intellectual attainments” are falling. Only 15-20 years ago graduate students in my field had to know both French and German. Now you can do it without either. My own institution’s doctoral program is anemic, but colleagues in “healthier” ones lament the decline of their incoming students in terms of preparedness, writing skills, analytical ability, self-confidence, and most other indicators of success common to academia and the more promising fields to which gifted students are increasingly attracted. Compare that with the ever more competitive admissions processes at elite undergraduate institutions and law and medical schools.

I cannot argue with all of these statements, but at the same time I think the situation is vastly over simplified. I look at my own academic career as an example. I am by no means an elite thinker, but I have a pretty good head on my shoulders. I admit that my decision to go to grad school was pretty hasty, but I have busted my ass in school to try to make up for any shortcomings I had when I entered. The comment on foreign language really irks me. I have no problem with the requirement for foreign language knowledge. I know that I had to do a lot of French in a short period of time to get up to snuff. But the original poster's comment lacks context. Not all fields NEED foreign language knowledge. Yes, it may be helpful, but it's not always critical. The prevalence of English as a spoken and written language throughout the world mitigates, in many cases, the need for foreign language simply because so many sources are available for the native English speaker. Furthermore, Americanists generally have less need than say Europeanists. My focus in Irish history tends to push me closer to the Americanist camp simply because the sources that I need to conduct my work are in English. The trend toward easing these sorts of requirements is the result of recognizing this situation for what it is. If I was studying French or German history, it would be ludicrous to undertake either without fluency in each respective tongue.

The idea that there are more schools offering PhDs and granting degrees to students that otherwise wouldn't have them is insulting. Especially when you look at the limited number of openings at elite schools. Sure they can remain in their upper-echelon of the Ivory Tower, but to suggest that people from non-elite schools don't do good, important work is ridiculous. Because that is the impression given by commentators such as the one cited.

Intelligence is only one of many factors that determine which universities one applies and gets accepted to. Remember, applications are voluntary, so some really smart people might opt NOT to go to elite schools even if they could get in. Governing factors such as finances, location, program reputation, and, for undergraduates what one thinks they want to study, all color application choices. Personally, I wanted to teach secondary education when I as applying to undergraduate schools. In Michigan the two best programs for secondary ed were generally considered to be Michigan State and Oakland University. Those were the only schools I applied to. In hindsight, I probably should have applied to University of Michigan as well, but their program for what I wanted to study was not as good, so it made no sense at the time. I opted for Oakland University because it was smaller than MSU - I didn't want to be a face in the crowd and have TAs as instructors - and less expensive. Since I was geared toward secondary ed my history curriculum was slightly different than other history majors, and as a result I probably had fewer upper-level history courses, but the difference was probably only 1 or 2 classes overall and I rocked the upper-level courses I did take, generally getting really high grades from the toughest profs in the department.

When I made the decision to go to grad school, because of time constraints, I only applied to two schools - Loyola and Boston College. I got into Loyola and decided to go there. So my academic pedigree is Oakland University > Loyola University Chicago. Probably not the most impressive. But in reality, I have noticed that where you get your degree matters very little, no matter what people say. At conferences I have been amazed at the quality of work from people at a variety of institutions, including really bad work from people at elite schools, and really good work from people at Loyola type schools. Dr. Robert Bucholz, one of Loyola's faculty members who actually gives a crap about graduate students, has said that he'd put Loyola students in the same ring as elite schools any day. I always thought that was a bit of posturing on his end, until I started putting conferences together and seeing the kind of stuff being done. I would agree with him on that point. I know that I am always impressed with my forerunners at Loyola and how well versed they are in the discipline. As this post suggests, different tiered graduate programs serve different purposes. I think that is a better perspective on the issue raised here.

In the end, I recognize that the prospects of finding a secure/rewarding academic job is unlikely and that my opinion doesn't matter on the subject, because as Tim Lacy pointed out here the system for evaluating programs is inherently flawed. I'm not trying to say that Loyola is a top-tier school. Don't get me wrong. But it is a very good school, and there are a number of other factors (size of school/department, funding, necessity for part-time work, etc.) that contribute to Loyola's, and schools of it's ilk, being branded as "inferior" - a label that is then siphoned off to it's graduates in the academy. Are there some bad eggs at Loyola. Sure there are. But I'm sure people would be surprised at the similarities between our department and that of a top flight school, at least intellectually. In the end, isn't that what really matters? No matter where someone goes for their PhD they're going to bust their asses to finish the degree. At the same time, all the literature and commentary indicates that newly minted PhDs shouldn't expect their efforts to be acknowledged by a tenure-track job. Anyone who enters grad school with the mentality that that is the only acceptable situation for them are setting themselves up to fail. But I would hope that during the course of one's training as an historian (or any humanities field) that (s)he would be able to revise their thinking.

Basically I refuse to be labeled as an inferior historian simply because of where I went to school. In the words of W. Axl Rose - "Don't Damn Me!"

The Dissertation Proposal

I assume that most doctoral-granting institutions require PhD students to write a dissertation proposal before they embark on researching and writing their dissertation. At my school we have a formal, public defense of the proposal, but I realize that might not be the case at all schools. Since I finished my exams in November, I've been working on my own dissertation proposal. I wrote the majority of it over a 1-2 week period in mid-December. So when the current semester started I had a complete draft to present to my adviser. Luckily, my adviser is of the opinion that the dissertation proposal is a step in a larger process, and that it does not have to be a perfect specimen - your research will and (probably) should change as you get further into your subject. Therefore, splitting hairs over the minutia of your proposal is an exercise in futility. I know that other professors in my department are of the perfectionist school. Granted, each adviser is entitled to their own opinion on dissertation proposals, but the overall effect of the perfectionist school has been detrimental to the process in general. Too many students spend way too much time writing, and, of course, putting off completing their proposals. As one of my committee members told me last week, no one should take more than two months to get their proposal done. I agree. That is also why I'm shocked that some people in my department take a year or more to finish their proposals (if I had not switched advisers, I surely would have been one of those by no fault of my own). The long short of it is this: the dissertation proposal is a set of ideas and hypotheses. It doesn't have to be flawless or even set in concrete. The most important thing is to speak with your adviser before and during to process and determine their expectations so that you can set reasonable goals for completing the proposal in a timely manner.

Building solidarity

Last night I spent some time with colleagues discussing various aspects of our collective graduate school experience. One of the topics we discussed is something that I have been actively trying to change this year - the lack of camaraderie in our department. It seems to me that this problem stems from a number of factors. First, we're a relatively small department. That means that cohorts are not very big and one if lucky if they have someone with a similar research project to bounce ideas off of. Second, we are an urban school in Chicago with people spread out over a large area. This creates a motivational issue for people to actually get out of their houses and participate in various activities (especially with the current shape of the CTA and the winter weather). As the president of our department's graduate student association I've made concerted efforts to increase interest in our organization and foster a sense of community amongst the students in the department. It seems like this action won't pay off for another few years as it will probably take a few more years of sustained advocacy to get our department where it needs to be. Providing opportunities for people is only one half of the equation. The other half involves people actually taking part in them. One can offer as many services as they like, but if no one uses them what is the net benefit? It seems both sides are deprived of positive opportunities. What are some ways to get people more involved? How does one go about getting people to show up to meetings, workshops, or even the bar? These are some of the issues my department will continue to face for the foreseeable future.

Where to draw the line?

No, "draw the line" is not intended as a reference to the hit-or-miss Aerosmith album from 1977. Rather, it's a question about the reciprocal commitment of graduate programs to their students. Granted, some doctoral institutions are blessed with large faculties that can easily or even reasonably accommodate changes to student's study plans, but what about smaller departments? It's not unreasonable for incoming freshmen to change their intended major 4-5 times, on average so why would it be different for graduate students to adhere strictly to their proposed course of study when they enter the program. When students are accepted into a program they make a commitment to that school and that department. At the same time, the department makes a commitment to the student as well. Especially if a student performs well and is in good standing academically, the department should do everything possible to accommodate the student in accordance with their academic interests. Naturally, for smaller departments, this might be more difficult. Sometimes exceptions can be made, wrinkles implemented, and favors granted, but what are students to do in the rare instance that their program fails them? Attrition rates measure the the inverse relationship, but it seems reasonable to ask how prevalent this situation is? I would assume it's rare, but that does not make it any less tragic when it occurs. I can speak from personal experience, that I faced some difficulties with finding an advisor at my school, but I was eventually able to work out a situation mutually agreeable to myself, the department, and the graduate school. It's just very unfortunate that smaller departments face these issues and that a small minority of students are negatively affected by them.

Graduate Students and Faculty

In the history department at my university at least one graduate student is selected to sit in on faculty meetings. However, the process by which this individual is selected, what their role is at faculty meetings, and their obligations to the faculty and their fellow graduate students is in no way publicized. It seems both logical and fair that these requirements be clearly spelled out and accessible to all faculty and graduate students. Furthermore, just as graduate students elect their representatives in the department's History Graduate Student Association, so too should they be able to vote for their faculty representative. This restores transparency to the entire process and makes the elected individual responsible to his or her peers for communicating pertinent information regarding the status of the department. If the proceedings of the meetings is deemed too confidential for the general graduate student population, then what is the point of even having a student representative? I believe that establishing a presence in the department is critical for continued excellence in graduate studies. I intend to raise these issues with the department's Graduate Program Director; I will report back on my findings when I have more concrete answers.

Quality or quantity

It seems that smaller PhD programs have difficult decisions to make between accepting quality students and providing a quality graduate education and accepting (and matriculating) a higher number of students in order generate more revenue for the university. When the latter occurs it becomes increasingly difficult to maintain the quality of the program because departmental funding must be distributed more thinly, or disproportionate number of PhD students go without funding. For those hoping to join the ranks of academia, they are placed in a difficult situation because they lack the pedagogical guidance some of their colleagues receive in terms of classroom preparation, designing courses, and writing lectures and tests. Instead of looking at their bottom line, more departments should limit the number of people admitted to their programs in order to ensure those accepted receive the highest quality education and preparation possible. If such a policy were followed not only would the glut of un-tenured PhDs diminish, but the institution's credibility rises as well. Furthermore, whether it is a good thing or a bad thing is a matter of opinion, smaller departments would be able to specialize to a higher degree the types of PhDs they turn out. For instance, if my current institution followed this logic, the focus would be on Public and American history with a major strength in urban history. Naturally there would be other problems that arise from this situation, notably difficulty retaining faculty in other fields who might be discontent not having graduate students to work with, but it seems like an interesting idea that might solve a number of the current problems in academia.