Archive for the ‘academia’ Category
In response to Siri’s post about multi-disciplinary work, Peter Levin wrote the following:
For what it’s worth, working in a corporate environment, on big hairy systemic questions like, ‘How can we design an ecosystem for technologies to support precision agriculture over the next 2 decades?’ I work with a psychologist, an engineer, two anthropologists, an MBA/physicist, and a French literature PhD.
It’s a specifically-academia problem.
I agree. But I want to add a few comments. First, the evidence indicates that the problem is worse in social sciences than physical sciences. Social scientists are very territorial, as this article by Lada Adamic & co shows. Second, this system is reinforced by journal editors and tenure committees. Deans and administrators may sing the praises of interdisciplinary work, they routinely allow departments to punish faculty who don’t publish within discipline and journal editors are happy to let reviewers shoot down articles that use out of discipline ideas.
So, yes, interdisciplinary is important and needed, but until the system of rewards changes in the academy, it will remain the rhetoric of enthusiastic administrators.
The IGM panel of economic experts got some recent buzz because 63% of their experts — 81%, when weighted by confidence — disagree with the Piketty-inspired argument that r > g is driving recent wealth inequality in the U.S.
I always enjoy reading these surveys. The panel includes 50 or so top academic economists, from a variety of subfields and political orientations, and asks them whether they agree or disagree with a policy-relevant economic statement. Respondents answer on a Likert scale, and indicate their degree of certainty as well as their level of agreement. Sometimes they add a short comment.
The results usually aren’t incredibly surprising. Not really shocking that 100% of economists agree that
Letting car services such as Uber or Lyft compete with taxi firms on equal footing regarding genuine safety and insurance requirements, but without restrictions on prices or routes, raises consumer welfare.
They’re a little more nervous about selling kidneys (45% favor, but nearly 30% find themselves “uncertain” — the highest proportion for any recent question besides whether ending net neutrality is a good thing). The most interesting ones are those where there’s disagreement (Have the last decade of airline mergers improved things for travelers?) or that counter the stereotype (54% disagree that giving holiday presents — rather than cash — is inefficient. Okay, counters it a little).
Anyway, this got me wondering. What if sociology had a similar panel? I mean, aside from the fact that no one would care. I can think of empirical findings we’d have broad confidence in that much of the public wouldn’t buy — for example, that there’s lots of hiring discrimination against African-Americans. But are there policy prescriptions we’d agree on — ones that are grounded in the discipline, as opposed coming solely from our left-leaning tendencies, though of course the two are hard to separate — that would tell us, Yep, sociologists WOULD say that.
EDITED TO ADD: Yes, I know that Piketty does not actually argue r > g is the cause of recent inequality growth in the US, which is what the question asks. But if they can headline the poll “Piketty on Inequality,” it seems fair to call the statement “Piketty-inspired.”
Siri Ann Terjesen is an assistant professor of management and international business at Indiana University and an Associate Editor of the Academy of Management Learning & Education. She is an entrepreneurship researcher and she also does work on supply chains and related issues. This guest post addresses multidisciplinary scholarship.
I am interested in orgtheory readers’ perspectives on a critical but under-examined issue in academia, including scholarship about organizations. That is, in academia, individual scholars are incentivized to focus on a particular issue in a particular discipline and discouraged from developing deep expertise in multiple fields. For example, business scholars examine the same universe (e.g., firms, employees, etc.), albeit through different branches (disciplines such as strategy, organizational behavior, operations management, finance, accounting, ethics, law, etc.) which do not dialogue actively with one another—and there are very few academics who develop a real repertoire across multiple fields- that is, are truly multidisciplinary ‘protean’ scholars who contribute to leading journals in multiple disciplines (e.g., disciplines as distinct as ethics and operations management or accounting and organizational behavior) and have a profound influence across these distinct arenas.
This is surprising because history shows us that some of the greatest learning and paradigm shifts come from the contributions of polymaths- individuals whose expertise draws on a wide range of knowledge- from early historical examples (Francis Bacon, Erasmus, Galileo Galelei, Hildegard von Bingen, and Ben Franklin) to more recent scholars (Michael Polanyi and Linus Pauling). Researchers in the applied sciences are beginning to recognize the power of polymath, protean scholars who bring new innovations through their openness to variety and flexibility and operations across multidisciplinary spaces. There are also personal motivations- individuals who have many repertoires of knowledge may develop a broader understanding and appreciation of all human accomplishments and are personally able to enjoy the pursuit of multiple paths to excellence and to have more peak experiences across these fields. Certainly there are prevailing counterarguments concerning a “Jack-of-all-Trades but master of none” and the sheer costs of operating in multiple institutions with distinct players, particularly gatekeepers. I welcome orgtheory readers’ insights and debates on this issue in any respect- theoretical perspectives, pros/cons, examples, personal experiences, etc.
When people discuss affirmative action, they often have a mistaken view that higher education is filled with legions of under-qualified minorities. From the inside, we have the opposite view. The higher up you go, the less likely you will find folks from under-represented groups. So, what gives?
In addition to plain ideological differences, I think people are selectively looking at the academic pipeline. Basically, at some points in the career, affirmative action is indeed at work and some folks, including myself no doubt, will receive extra consideration. But most of the time, privilege is the rule. People will disproportionately focus on the parts of the pipeline where affirmative action is a modest benefit for some people.
To grasp the argument, it helps to break down what needs to happen in order for anyone to become a tenured professor:
- Getting a high college GPA.
- Applying to the “right” grad schools.
- Admission to the “right” grad schools.
- Passing courses.
- Passing exams.
- Getting the “right” adviser.
- Getting published in the “right” places.
- Writing the dissertation.
- Applying to tenure track positions
- Getting an offer from a school.
- Strong teaching skills.
- Continuing to publish in the “right” places.
- Getting elites in the profession to vouch for you.
- Getting the department and college to sign off on your tenure case.
As you can see, academia is this insanely long career track with a long list of interdependent parts.
Now let’s get back to affirmative action. Where does that policy work? In my scheme, it shows up mainly in step #3. Most schools will look askance at graduate school cohorts that lack ethnic or gender diversity. Some may even provide funds for recruitment and fellowships. But that’s it. After step #3, affirmative is rare. Perhaps the exception is when deans or departments at the junior level look to diversity the faculty and they may approve a hire.
This helps explain the perceptions of the policy. Admissions is high profile and people are openly competing for spots. Faculty hiring is also high visibility. In contrast, say, getting published in a journal, or joining the “right” research groups is highly invisible to most observers until after the fact. And these are structured as homophilic networks, which might work against diversifying the faculty.
So, when it come to diversity in academia, you can’t look at one link in the chain. You have to look at the whole thing.
In the world of academia, the edited volume chapter doesn’t get a lot of love. For good reason, a blog post by Dorothy Bishop, a professor of neuropsychology at Oxford, shows that edited volume chapters almost never get cited. She scraped Google scholar and ranked all her dozens of pubs (she’s a full prof in a biomedical science). The result:
Yup, edited volumes might as well not exist. And, yes, there are caveats. In *some* humanities areas, they are cited. And yes, even in other areas, edited volumes occasionally have an impact. Organizational theory has been profoundly shaped by the 1991 Powell & DiMaggio anthology and the 1965 Handbook of Org Studies. But still, the lion’s share of scholarly reward goes to other publication formats. In addition to their reputation, they are not indexed, they are not accessible, and often prohibitively expensive.
When I advise graduate students and younger colleagues, I recommend against the edited volume but I never say never. I myself will do the occasional chapter – but only for a very specific reason. For example, if I think the volume has a serious chance of being high impact, I’ll give it a shot. I will also do it as an outlet for an idea that simply doesn’t fit in a journal or part of a book. But, the presumption, the default view, is that effort is best spent on other forms of publication. As Professor Bishop wrote, publishing in an edited volume is like taking your best work and burying it in the garden.
At Overcoming Bias, Robin Hanson observes that his fellow economists don’t always focus on the policies that have broad consensus, are easy to understand, and easy to implement. He uses the example of road pricing:
Heavy traffic is a problem every economist in the world knows how to solve: price road access, and charge high prices during rush hour. With technologies like E-ZPass and mobile apps, it’s easier than ever. That we don’t pick this low-hanging fruit is a pretty serious indictment of public policy. If we can’t address what is literally a principles-level textbook example of a negative spillover with a fairly easy fix, what hope do we have for effective public policy on other margins?
I agree. Think about status in economics – what sorts of work gets you the rewards? For a while, it was really, really hard math. Also, macro-economics, which is a notoriously hard field. Recently, insanely clever identification work. What do these have in common? They are hard. In contrast, how many Bates or Nobel prizes have been awarded for simple, high impact work, like road pricing? Nearly zero is my guess.
The same is true in sociology. Sociologists often imagine themselves coming up with marvelous approaches to solving deeply rooted social inequalities. For example, a few months ago, we discussed research on gender inequality and how it might be explained, partially, by the relative over- or under-confidence of men and women. In other words, it might be that women are overly cautious in terms of promotions.
One simple solution would be to require all eligible people to apply for promotions (e.g., require that all associate profs apply for full professorship after a few years). It is a simple rule and would almost certainly help. The response in the comments? The solution doesn’t remedy gender prejudice. Well, of course not, but that wasn’t the point. The point was to fix a specific issue – under representation of women in applicant pools. I have no idea how to eliminate the bias against women, but I can make sure they get promoted at work often – and it’s easy!
Bottom line: Social scientists have their priorities reversed. They get rewarded for trying to solve insanely hard problems, while leaving a lot of simple problems alone. That’s leaving cash on the table.