When I wrote about universities and the ethics of donations the other day, the takeaway was that we should 1) protect academic freedom and 2) avoid resource dependence but 3) not give donors political litmus tests. Then I threw in a line at the end about the biggest funder of all: the government.
Of course, there’s a simpler solution to this – full public funding for public universities, so that we can all Just Say No to any money with strings attached. Given our current financial reality, though, I’m curious if others have ideas about where to draw the line.
A couple of people have rightly jumped on this — August in the comments, and Graham Peterson at his own blog. They point out, fairly enough, that being government-funded just makes you dependent on bureaucrats and their agendas rather than the Koches or Bill Gates or whomever.
I’m very attuned to this possibility. During the Cold War, the government was often the biggest threat to academic freedom. There were government-sponsored Communist witch-hunts (see here for a gripping account of threats made to Robert Bellah at Harvard). There was classified research with lots of academic-freedom-stifling strings attached (see, e.g., Kelly Moore’s Disrupting Science). Government-sponsored military research was, in fact, one of the things ripping universities apart in the late 1960s.
And yet. I still prefer the government money.
Last week, Indiana Ph.D. student Karlijn Keijzer was killed on Malaysia Airlines Flight 17. The university news web site reports that she was an athlete, gifted science student, and an accomplished teacher. Her passing is a tragedy that has deeply touched the IU community.
History will likely pin this senseless death, and the deaths of hundreds of others, on the separatists and their cruel patron in Moscow. Yet, we should reflect on a broader point. This type of violence, where governments hand out such sophisticated weapons of war to masked men, is made possible by nationalist sentiments. Putin only thrives because of a deep spring of nationalist pride that legitimizes war, a sentiment that exists in many nations. Before we egg on our leaders and demand that they bring war to other nations, let us remember the innocent people who will suffer.
The Koch brothers are, of course, a favorite liberal bugaboo. And while they bankroll a wide range of right-wing institutions, more recently they’ve shifted their focus to the world of higher education. Most recently, the Koches made the news when UNCF (formerly the United Negro College Fund) accepted a $25 million grant to provide scholarships to students interested in entrepreneurship, economics and innovation—a decision that was followed by the union AFSCME cutting its own ties to UNCF.
Now, UNCF is a nonprofit, not a university. But the Koches support universities as well. George Mason is, perhaps unsurprisingly, the largest recipient of Koch largesse. Overall, in 2012, Koch foundations gave $12.1 million to 163 U.S. universities and colleges.
On the one hand, this is small potatoes. A single hedge fund manager gave Harvard $150 million this year. On the other, it raises important questions about when colleges should say no to money.
Over at Scatterplot, Jeremy’s been writing about his life gamification experiment, which involves giving himself points for various activities he’d like to be doing more of. I find this sort of thing totally compelling and have to admit I’m now giving myself all sorts of points in my head. (Finish unpacking one box — 5 points! Send an email I’ve been procrastinating on — 5 points!) Although not in 100 million years could I get my husband to play along with me, even for brunch, of which he is fond.
Anyway, the game brought to mind this post from Stephen Wolfram, in which Wolfram presents a bunch of data from the last 25 years of his life. Here, for example, are all the emails he’s sent since 1989. (Note the sharp time shift in 2002, when he stopped being completely nocturnal.) He’s also got keystroke data, times of calendar events, time on the phone, and physical activity.
Fascinating to read about, but perhaps not terribly healthy to pursue in practice. Although in Wolfram’s case, it sounds like he was mostly just collecting the data, not using it to guide his day-to-day decisions. Others become more obsessive. I don’t know if David Sedaris has really been spending nine hours a day walking the English countryside, a slave to his Fitbit, or if he’s taking poetic license, but it’s a heck of an image.
Clearly there are a lot of people into this sort of thing. In fact, there is a whole Quantified Self movement, complete with conferences and meet-up groups. One obvious take on this is that we’re all becoming perfect neoliberal subjects, rational, entrepreneurial and self-disciplined.
For me, though, what is fun and appealing as a choice — and I do think it’s a choice — becomes repellent and dehumanizing when someone pushes it on me. So while I’ll happily track my work hours and tally my steps just because I like to — and yes, I realize that’s kind of weird – I hate the idea of judging tenure cases based on points for various kinds of publications, and am uneasy with UPS’s use of data to ding drivers who back up too frequently.
It’s possible that I’m being inconsistent here. But really, I think it’s authority I have the problem with, not quantification.
Nearly everyone agrees that letters of recommendation are a lousy system that provides little information, rewards high-status connections, and provides lots of opportunities for recommenders to inadvertently damn their recommendees (see past orgtheory discussions here, here, and here). Yet for now, at least, we’re stuck with them.
Job season is approaching, and grad students are getting ready to request letters. If you’re at a well-financed program, your department will have an administrative person responsible for making sure your letters reach their many destinations. If you’re at a program like, well, mine, your letter-writers will find themselves sending 40-60 (or more) letters in a variety of formats for each of several students on the market. Needless to say, this is a big administrative pain.
A graduate student about to go on the market (okay, it was the awesome Josh McCabe, hire him!) asked this week about the best way to manage all these letter requests. Here’s my thoughts:
1) If you have the money, using Interfolio would be simplest, safest, and easiest for your letter-writers. They can upload letter(s) once and you can send them wherever, and whenever, you want. This is what I did when I applied for a handful of fellowships last year (the political economy of letters doesn’t end once you have a job). But Interfolio costs $6 a pop, and I’m not comfortable asking grad students to pay that for each of those 40-60 applications, possibly over multiple years.
2) Otherwise, there are a couple of principles to remember, beyond the general stuff that you’d do even if your department has administrative staff to handle letters.
- Ask what you can do to facilitate the process. Different people like different things. Personally, I don’t like complicated job spreadsheets, which can be idiosyncratic and hard to read. What I like is a list of basic info in the email — contact person, email/website/snail mail address, deadline (in bold!), link to the ad, a phrase or two on the job (e.g. “organizations, quant preferred”), and whether you’d like the research or teaching version of your letter — sorted either by deadline or by type of submission (website, email, or hard copy). Others may differ.
- Batch, batch, batch. There is nothing worse than receiving those 50 requests one at a time. Aim to send your requests once a month, maybe once every two weeks during the busiest season. Yes, there will be jobs posted that may make this impossible sometimes, but to the extent possible, group your requests.
- Manage up. FIgure out how your letter-writers work, and what you need to do to stay on top of them. If they are totally organized, you may not need to follow up. Personally, I just reply with “Done” when I’ve sent a batch out so the student knows when it’s been taken care of. If you don’t completely trust your recommenders to be on top of deadlines, you may want to mention in your request that you’ll check in a week before the next deadline to confirm. In some cases, online application systems will tell you whether letters have been submitted, which will allow you to avoid excess emails. But this is not always possible, and it’s totally reasonable to ask for confirmation that letters have actually been sent.
- Stay organized yourself. There are a lot of bits and pieces to manage on the job market. Keep track of what you’ve done and what you need to do, so you aren’t inadvertently making multiple requests that a letter be sent to the same place.
Sending letters, while a pain, is part of the job of faculty and almost everyone recognizes that. Perhaps we’ll eventually get a centralized system that will eliminate this problem, or, even better, abandon letters. But until then, there are better and worse ways to manage the process. (Also, are we the only department out there where faculty send all the letters themselves, or is this fairly common?)
With Fabio on much-deserved blogcation, I’m going to try to throw up some more frequent short posts over the next couple of weeks to keep the ball rolling. Although I’m 100% sure I’m not going to pull off daily posting. It turns out, though, that blogging is a lot like other kinds of writing deadlines, in that the longer you wait, the better the job you feel you have to do to make up for having taken so long.
So with that in mind, a little poetry of the corporation to start your weekend — particularly apt in light of the recent Hobby Lobby decision and debates about corporate personhood, h/t Professor Mondo.
by Archibald MacLeish
The Oklahoma Ligno and Lithograph Co.
Of Maine doing business in Delaware, Tennessee,
Missouri, Montana, Ohio and Idaho,
With a corporate existance distinct from that of the
Secretary, Treasurer, President, Directors or
Majority stockholders, being empowered to acquire
As principal, agent, trustee, licensee, licensor,
Any or all, in part or in parts or entire –
Etchings, impressions, engravings, engravures, prints,
Paintings, oil-paintings, canvases, portraits, vignettes,
Tableaux, ceramics, relievos, insculptures, tints,
Art-treasures or master-pieces, complete or in sets –
The Oklahoma Ligno and Lithograph Co.
Weeps at a nude by Michelangelo.
According to wiki, poet Archibald MacLeish was also instrumental in starting the Research and Analysis Branch of the Office of Strategic Services during WWII. The Research and Analysis Branch, as it happens, was one of the places to be if you were an academic during World War II. In economics, it housed Ed Mason, Walt Rostow, Moses Abramowitz, Carl Kaysen, Wassily Leontif, among others. So it all comes around.
I am taking a blogcation for about two weeks. But before I do, I’ll make one small announcement. The sales of Grad Skool Rulz are doing well and I think it’s time for an update. New cover, new content. I’ll work on it this coming semester, once some other projects are done. So if there is something you want in the new edition, put it in the comments. Also, once the new edition is released, the first 100 copies will be free.
PS. Don’t forget – if you have an idea for a guest post, feel free to send it in.