by Julia Ching
Jan. 24, 2000 -- In early November my esteemed colleague Dan Goldstick wrote about the difficulties of measuring academic excellence. I heartily agree with him. But then it is still important to try. If we have no standards at all, wouldn't we spiral downward? Even with whatever standards we do have at present, aren't we often wasting our time by calling ourselves great, just because we're at such a big university?
Let's talk about searching for candidates. Last year our university embarked on new hiring. Searches are on again. We hear about Jackman chairs and appointments of opportunity. It would appear that some very good people are or should be joining our faculty. But are our colleagues always eager to recruit the best?
I wonder. Search committees continue to operate by what appears to be random judgements. Short lists are drawn up by so-called consensus but not built on fairness -- to committee members or to candidates. Rather, whoever speaks the loudest is heard in committee and whoever spins the best tale becomes the more popular candidate. Sometimes the best-qualified candidates are those overlooked because they lack a "common touch" or are not a member's friend or are even feared because she or he has published more than the search members. Here I remember my own sister once advising me not to publish too much before tenure because I could be judged by a committee whose members may have published less.
Sometimes "brand names" like Harvard or Princeton are over-valued for their education, above the junior candidate's personal merits and those of the competitors. Asian universities, some the cradles of Nobel laureates, are often denigrated, even for their study of Asia. Of course, there are differences. In the West focus is considered more important than range, sometimes conveniently, because the specialist has a lesser (sometime too little) command of the Asian language. Having taught at both Columbia and Yale I remember that their undergraduates tend to be better in general (although we have some of the best too) while their graduates are not so different from ours, the differences being individual. Our good fortune in my field of East Asian religion and philosophy has been the native or near-native command of Asian languages among our students -- so rare in other North American institutions. That is why they deserve the best supervisors. Equality of opportunity should mean what it says: merit, and merit only. And if we regard focus important, let's not appoint people concentrating in one area to teach in another. Otherwise we could end up hiring more faculty to cover the same area.
There are other problems with search committees. At times either a junior or a senior person (from a prestigious institution) may not be invited to appear before a committee, ostensibly because she or he gives a specialist lecture that is not always understood by the attending audience. Indeed there are those among us who speak out against inviting more famous scholars who will command higher salaries for fear that of creating a two-tiered faculty. And then there's the fact that at this big university search committee chairs may feel their work load is too heavy to prolong a committee meeting for more careful scrutiny.
True there's possible redemption in being big: for example, U of T might otherwise be doomed to dullness and mediocrity but possesses now an occasional brilliance that is due to luck rather than selection and to the sheer numerical largeness of its collection of academics. I am not saying that everyone of us has to win a Nobel Prize. But I wonder if we are permitting potential or actual stars in the field to go elsewhere because we prefer those we are more comfortable with, who will not challenge our comfortable mediocrity, our contentment to recruit mainly undergraduate teachers and then thrust them with graduate supervision even when they are not prepared.
I speak, of course, from limited knowledge and experience. But I remember being put once on a committee to promote associate professors who wanted promotion without publication because they had reached their earning ceiling. They claimed to be better teachers as well. Is lack of publication then necessarily proof of better teaching skills? Is that also why searches are often dismissive of candidates' publications?
I believe we can still improve our recruitment methods despite the funding contraints imposed by an unsympathetic government. We can better structure our searches and tenure committees. At present there are certain exclusion clauses, some more observed than others: for example, no supervisors are allowed in case former graduate students are candidates. But what of those who haven't supervised? Are they better qualified to judge? And we really only pay lip service to the importance of publications -- frequently these are not just unread, but unseen. And last but not least, what of hiring deserving minorities?
I'd recommend having smaller committees without untenured or less-productive faculty. Students could observe but not vote. We should systematically compare candidates' records against their peers, depending on when they received their degrees. We should look up their publications and reviews. We should make sure that their backgrounds prepare them for the specific jobs in question and not hire them for the wrong reasons. We should also encourage more appointments of opportunity, especially to obviously superior scholars. And urgently, because of our ethnically and culturally diversified student body, we should diversify our academic faculty. By offering special but fair scrutiny each time, we should be more serious and conscientious about giving a better chance to visible minorities, women and aboriginals, provided that merit is equal. The problem is committee members prefer their own friends, or their friends' friends. Minority members are hired only if they also fit into this category. And so our teaching faculty remains one colour as our society, including public and private sectors, becomes increasing multiracial.
I say what I do while knowing there can be exceptions in vision and magnanimity. For example, some colleagues have acknowledged their own negligence in publishing and have asked for better recruiting standards. Others have spoken in favour of having native speakers with better control of texts and sources teach Asian subjects that require supervising students with diverse interests. But I don't see these colleagues on search committees and in any case, they appear to be exceptions.
Smaller committees should mean less scheduling problems. Often committees don't meet until weeks or months after the job ads have expired. For one search last year candidates thought the process was over before it even began. Why does this happen? Presumably search chairs prefer to schedule meetings at times convenient especially to themselves. After all, they are often very busy individuals. They forget the sacrifices others not in administration make. Of course, searches require expertise, which doesn't always come with administrative rank. But non-expert chairs may still be eager to make their mark, often being tempted to favour their own disciplines rather than meet students' needs. But remember, an average appointment of a candidate starting with $50,000+ annual salary, with increments after 30 years, can come close to $1.5 million in total. Shouldn't we approach such investment on the part of the university with greater attention? Would a corporate board not get all the correct advice it needs to make sure that dividends will increase?
Academic excellence is heard to measure. We need humility and selflessness to recognize talent wherever it's found. We need chairs and committees that encourage and facilitate that recognition. We also need colleagues who are always seeking to improve their own standards.
Not that measurable academic excellence is the only important thing, even at a university. There's a greater kind of excellence: the quality of our lives and work, the integrity with which we measure ourselves and treat others, and with which we teach our students. When all's said and done, what remains is the students we teach or have taught and the research we try to advance, which, one hopes, also advances civilization's best chances. The university merely serves as a place for this service and activity. At this big and impersonal place, we need special people to illuminate dark corners.
I know that my esteemed colleague Professor Dan Goldstick has done his part to make the university a better place for many of us and for our students.
Julia Ching is a university professor and associated with three academic units: philosophy, East Asian studies and the Centre for Study of Religion.
|| University of Toronto Homepage | Students Concerned with Minority Rights homepage | Sign Guestbook ||
This page was updated on February 11, 2000.
© 1997-2000 All rights reserved.