On Philosophical "Research" and "Public" philosophy--or on a philosophical life post-tenure, or not.

I don’t get much time to do extended, concentrated, article-generating research—see above—though I am slowly realizing that I have exponentially more time for research, broadly-speaking, than I did at my previous position. That’s partly a consequence of not being buried in departmental business and new preps and the TT grind, but more so because I’m older now and I think about research much differently. I read a lot more and write (mostly digitally) a lot more than I used to, I do a lot of collaborative work, and I have more time to engage interests and concerns that are not primarily aimed at turning out peer-reviewed publications. I do some sort of research every day.--Leigh M. Johnson @The Cocooners.[HT Adriel Trott (see also below)]

As regular readers of these Impressions know, I often distinguish between professional philosophy and philosophy. The very same person can do (or be) both. The distinction is intuitive enough -- professional philosophy involves institutional politics, a zero-sum environment (for resources, jobs, status, recognition, etc.), disciplination, etc., while in philosophy there is not just a purer orientation toward truth and wisdom but also a kind of integrity between words and actions --, although not entirely easy to make precise. It can be an unsettling parlor game to imagine which fantastic philosopher would not have made it in contemporary professional philosophy (due to, say, lack of refereed publications or non-standard or slow publication habits).

I treat 'research' (not a word I like, although I sometimes describe others as being on the research-frontier) as belonging to the 'professional' side of philosophy--it's what we do to acquire and keep PhDs, jobs, promotions, salary increases, professional recognition, etc. I understand my Digressions as my attempt (shades of mania of greatness) to do a kind of anti-systematic, systematic philosophy (which includes musings on and intervening in professional philosophy), while escaping the confines of the ordinary means of professional evaluation and writing. They do sometimes draw upon and generate professional research (and I am very pleased when my D&I pieces get cited by others), but I don't think of them as research. For me, research is work -- sometimes intensely satisfying work --, and D&I is not work (although sometimes I cheat and use the measurable 'impact' of my blogging in the narrative of a grant application).

In her piece, Leigh Johnson describes her life post "denial of tenure." Her changed institutional circumstances and professional profile has led to a new way of understanding her research. She does not say much about it, but it involves a devaluing (for her) of peer-reviewed publications and it includes -- inter alia -- a lot more digital writing. (I read her blogs regularly.) Given that the average number of readers of any peer-reviewed philosophical paper is close to zero (I increasingly doubt that even editors read what's published in their own journals) writing peer-reviewed publications is close to irrational if your philosophical aims are not motivated by professional concerns. (This is not to deny that anonymous referees can't improve one's philosophy and that for some genuine philosophical projects the journal article is a very fine medium.)

I think there are two ways to understand Johnson's position on 'research:' (i) one asks the profession to find a way to recognize and value non-peer-reviewed philosophical writing as 'research;' (ii) one reminds the profession there is more to research in philosophy (and life) than peer-reviewed publications (and other species of publication that are close to it). My sense is she embraces both (i-ii). Adriel Trott gives us a sense of how our professional peers respond to (i):

Johnson says she does some form of research everyday, but this research is not focused on peer-reviewed publications and it’s mostly digital.  I’m going to go out on a limb and speak for the philosophical community when I say that philosophers generally don’t think that our digital work is research.  Further on the limb, we don’t think this work is research, not only because we tend to think that whatever is meant for public consumption can’t be that good, but also because we tend to think public philosophy is either popularizing philosophical concepts developed in the quiet corners of the ivory tower or applying these concepts same to some relevant area of public life.  Both popularizing and applying tend to be viewed as not as rigorous philosophy, not really philosophy itself but a possible use for philosophy.*  When Johnson says she does some sort of research every day and that this research is not aiming toward peer-review academic publication, she seems to be saying that her public philosophy is itself the production of philosophical ideas, not just the application of those ideas to contemporary issues....The problem is that philosophy as a field tends to think that theorizing out of a moment isn’t really philosophical–it’s sociology, or anthropology, feminist theory or postcolonial theory, or it’s activism...But far too many philosophers throughout the field think you have to do “real” philosophy before you can take it to the street....I don’t mean to say that applying philosophical ideas to public concerns is not important.  But I do want to say that public philosophy can often be the development of theory and not just it’s application.  When Johnson says she does some form of research everyday, but this research is not focused on an academic audience, we philosophers have to reconsider what we think research means in order to affirm this conception of research.--Adriel M. Trott "What is Public Philosophy."

To simplify Trott's position a bit (apologies, but this is a blog, after all): the profession should welcome (i) by understanding it, first, as a species of public philosophy (by which Trott means, in part, philosophy "not focused on an academic audience"), and, second, recognize that public philosophy can be (really real) theoretical philosophy (or at least its "development").

Now, it is not obvious to me that Johnson's ''digital' writings are not (also, if not primarily) focused on an academic audience. (Many of her blogs engage with the academic life in non-trivial fashion.) Even when Johnson describes when she does 'research,' it seems to be part of her ordinary professional, work-life: "On my non-teaching days, I still wake up very early (6am-ish), but I spend my early mornings researching, reading, and writing." Of course, it is entirely possible that Johnson also writes for a non-academic audience. [I expect the vast majority of my blog-readers to be fellow academics (although I mean this in a broad sense to include former professional academics).]

None of this is to deny that professional philosophers can also do public philosophy (in Trott's sense) and may wish to be recognized for it. In fact, European grant agencies increasingly demand such public philosophy, and call it 'impact' or 'valorization.' This can involve uptake of one's ideas, disseminating it in non-professional contexts, aiming to change public policy or perceptions, or engaging with the 'public' in a wider sense (through public service, activism, editorializing, etc.) Devoting oneself to such public philosophy is probably, on balance, easier post-tenure for the professional philosopher because it can involve considerable opportunity costs when balancing other professional (and non-professional) obligations.

But I understand, 'public philosophy' differently; perhaps because it is a distinct genre of philosophical writing in Northwestern Europe. This is philosophy aimed at a non-academic audience by people who call themselves 'philosophers,' and who need not have any affiliation with academic/professional philosophy, and who attempt to make their living doing so. There are, of course a few professional philosophers who also make (some) money as public philosophers. That is to say, from a historical perspective, professional philosophers and public philosophers are just two different kinds of Sophists (that is, 'philosophy' is monetized).

Digital philosophy aimed at other academics and public philosophy (in Trott's sense) and in my (more European) sense can be a means for theoretical innovation and development. I want to offer a suggestion why this could be so (in a way distinct from Trott's interesting claims): changes of genre and audience can be theorized as a change in one's tacit or suppressed (modeling) constraints. An obvious example is that in peer-reviewed philosophical work one (generally and quietly) presupposes a conversation among experts only (think of the role of intuitions), whereas in certain branches of public philosophy that assumption needs to be dropped. Of course, in many branches of public philosophy one cannot make all one's theoretical developments fully transparent or explicit without ruining the experience for non-professional audiences; and even very well trained professional philosophers may, thus, fail to spot one's theoretical developments/innovations.

 

On my non-teaching days, I still wake up very early (6am-ish), but I spend my early mornings researching, reading, and writing. - See more at: http://philosopherscocoon.typepad.com/blog/2016/03/real-jobs-in-philosophy-part-5-leigh-m-johnson-christian-brothers-university.html#more

Comments

[Michael Kremer]

"Given that the average number of readers of any peer-reviewed philosophical paper is close to zero"

Eric, I actually doubt this is true. Do you have evidence for this other than citation counts? I certainly don't cite everything I read... and I have received (appreciative) emails from people who have read one or the other of my articles or even book reviews, but will never cite them. How can we get accurate statistics on what people *read* (as opposed to what they *cite*)? Or are there some?

[Schliesser, Eric]

The classic, modern source is this paper by Meho,
http://arxiv.org/ftp/physics/papers/0701/0701012.pdf
You are right to be suspicious; citations are a bad proxy for readership. (Lots of citations do not entail lots of readers and vice versa.) The honest fact is that we know very little about the reading habits of professional academics. Maybe I am unduly pessimistic (and just being rhetorical).
Having said that I would not infer much from the experiences of a high status professor to the average experience.

[Ed Lamm]

Only real way to judge readership is through syllabi... (But to be realistic, assume only 10% of students will read what's assigned. or maybe less?)

Thankfully there's the syllabus project.

http://opensyllabusproject.org/

[David Duffy]

"syllabi":
'Next time I saw Wilfrid, I said, "I heard from a graduate student that you had been reading some of my stuff in seminar." He said, "Yup." I said, "Oh, you didn't say anything to me. You must know how thrilled I would be at your doing this." He said, "It's none of your damn business what I teach in my seminar."'

http://www.pitt.edu/~brandom/downloads/Williams_Interviews%20Page%20Proofs.pdf

[Neil McArthur]

The online journal databases keep usage statistics, which publishers can access. It looks like librarians can potentially access them as well. Hopefully that data will eventually fall into the hands of someone who can make something of it.