On Lunch With the Ol' Advisor

So I've been working on this dissertation on evolutionary theory and American literature for what? two years now? three? and during lunch with my advisor today he mentions, "by the way," that this is his father. 

I actually cited his father in an early draft of my dissertation prospectus.  You'd think that deserved at least a little marginalia, no? 

A Post-Script for all personally interested: the lunch went extremely well, he thinks I'm progressing fine (though not as good as some Canadians we know), and that I need to be careful to moderate the public record I create in order to not sound too much like him, McCann, or Benn Michaels (all of whom, he took care to remind me, have tenure).  Fortunately, I'm a likeable guy who no one will think ill of for the things I written.  Right?

Right?!?

Comments

[Camicao]

As someone who as a chair and member of several search committees over the past few years has looked at candidate's webpages and blogs, I don't think you have anything to worry about.

[Mike S]

Scott, in your estimation, which are the chief factors in forecasting how well a freshly minted PhD will do in the job market? I ask because to the casual observer your background and accolades are rather impressive, yet I can't help but notice a potent undercurrent of Weltschmerz streaming beneath many of your career-related posts.

Is it the case that the job market for English PhDs is so competitive and bleak that even ABDs from the nation's top schools are losing sleep at night?

I hope these questions are not too personal. But as someone who is about to begin down a path similar to the one you're on, I am naturally curious (apprehensive?) about the prospects for fledgling professionals.

Glad to hear lunch with the advisor went well.

[Scott Eric Kaufman]

Mike,

I haven't forgotten about you, I just haven't had time to collect my thoughts and answer yet. An answer is, however, forthcoming.

[Scott Eric Kaufman]

Thoughts? Check. Collected? Check.

There aren't any factors, chief or otherwise, to forecast how well a newly minted Ph.D. will do in the market. The market's so variable that in any given year you may have a run on any of the major specializations, say, medievalist, romanticist, Americanist, &c. But you can't predict what period will be best represented, nor what emphasis: maybe 20th Century Anglo-American, or American, or minority American, or Meso-American, &c. But this situation's so pervasive that it's not really worth losing sleep over. I've resigned myself to 1) making myself the strongest candidate as possible, 2) making myself as marketable as possible (not the same thing as #1, much to the shame of the profession), and 3) not worrying about things beyond my control (such as the variability of the market year-to-year). That said, one way to increase your odds of finding a job is to become a medievalist. Every university needs one, very few students in any program study to be one. If you're a good medievalist--by which I mean, you know the literarture, the history and the languages (Latin, medieval Italian, medieval French, medieval Spanish, Provencal, &c.)--like my wife, you're almost certain to find employment, from what I've been told. I know this isn't the reassuring answer you wanted (which is why I debated how to answer this for three days), but it's an honest one. You become an academic because you want to do the work, live the life, but you have to realize that that life may eventually be comprised of endless composition courses at smaller institutions...even if you do quality work. One UCI Ph.D., Chris Diffy, recently published in the American Quarterly (I believe that's where it is) and also has a couple of other publications, is incredibly personable, charming, and exudes intelligence from every pore...and is now a first year law student at Stanford. (Granted, he earned a free ride to Stanford with some exceptional LSAT scores, but that's in large part a product of his years of being an English graduate student.) In other words, as with all professions, coming into this one involves a number of calculated risks.

[Mike S]

Thanks for getting back, Scott.

Your responses are always unpretentious and generous, and that is why I continue to solicit your thoughts.

So is your area of specialization (I'm guessing it's a strange amalgam of 19th-20th century American lit, critical theory, and social Darwinism) itself a calculated risk? Should one select an emphasis based upon personal interests and strengths, or upon market demands?

I ask because if becoming a medievalist is the only safe road to travel, and if that road is one only few decide to venture, what becomes of the vast majority of students who specialize in other, more typically popular areas (Modernism, Victorian lit, Romantic lit, etc.)? Well, I suppose you've already told me: they teach comp 101 at junior colleges or they enter law school.

The conclusion I'm (perhaps misguidedly) drawing from what you've told me is that pursuing a career in academia is in many ways a leap of faith, albeit a calculated leap of faith. Unlike other professions (law, medicine, K-12 teaching) in which one's educational background, work experience, and general strengths (professionalism, a robust work ethic, a jovial demeanor) can all but guarantee a job, academia is different. Academia is more of a crapshoot, and even though it's one where you can stack the odds very well in your favor, there is always that possibility of earning a PhD from a hallowed institution and ending up jobless.

Please, Scott, when you get a minute or ten, would you inspire some optimism?