Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Colorado's Best Practices and Collegiality

This thread at Leiter, dealing with Spencer Case's criticism of the Colorado Best Practices document, contains a pretty interesting discussion of the question that always seems to come up in this context: whether it's ok to disparage the subfield of feminist philosophy as a whole, and if not, why not? The most interesting action starts at comment #33 and takes the form of an exchange between "thefinegameofnil" and "slacprof."

thefinegameofnil asks us to consider the hypothetical(?) case of a philosopher named Sally who
... arrives at the considered opinion that feminist philosophy isn't a fruitful research program, and that philosophy is better served by allocating its limited resources to other sub-disciplines. [...] On that basis, Sally speaks openly and dismissively of feminist philosophy's ability to advance philosophical understanding to her colleagues, she's generally against her department hiring philosophers working in feminist philosophy, she doesn't think that courses in it should be offered on a regular basis, the NEH should fund other work, etc. Sally clearly runs afoul of the APA Colorado Report's Orwellian suggestion that those who "have a problem with people doing...doing feminist philosophy...should gain more appreciation of and tolerance for the plurality of the discipline. Even if they are unable to achieve a level of appreciation for other approaches to the discipline, it is totally unacceptable for them to denigrate these approaches in front of faculty, graduate or undergraduate students in formal or informal settings on or off campus."
Whether I have any objection to what Sally is doing in this story depends substantially on what, exactly, I am supposed to take Sally to be doing in this story. Suppose she's in a faculty meeting the purpose of which is to settle on an AOS for an upcoming tenure-line hire, and she argues that the department should not advertise for a specialist in feminist philosophy because, in her informed opinion, that subdiscipline is not a fruitful research program and a specialist in it is less likely than specialists in other disciplines to advance philosophical understanding, and stuff like that.

If that's what she's doing, I can't see any problem with it. It seems to me that we philosophers ought to be free to decide for ourselves which philosophical projects and methodological approaches are interesting, worthy of attention, and/or potentially fruitful, and ought to be free to express those decisions to our colleagues. That seems right to me.

But if that's what she's doing, I'm not sure I see how Sally's behavior runs afoul of what thefinegameofnil calls the "Orwellian Suggestion." It's true that the Orwellian Suggestion tells Sally to gain more appreciation of the plurality of the discipline, and that Sally has not managed to do this in spite of what we are clearly meant to see as a good-faith effort do do so. That might indicate that Sally has violated the Orwellian Suggestion.

But the Orwellian Suggestion also gives advice for what to do in that case: she should refrain from denigrating it in front of colleagues or students. To me, this tells against reading the Orwellian Suggestion as a categorical and unconditional order to appreciate feminist approaches to philosophy, tout court. If that's what it was, it would just say, "do x," instead of, "do x, but if you can't do x, at least do y." So, Sally saying in a faculty meeting that she thinks that whatever subdiscipline or approach or whatever isn't super fruitful and that, since tenure lines are precious, we should spend it on someone who will engage in a more potentially fruitful research program strikes me as possibly consistent with the Orwellian Suggestion, depending on the specifics.

But if, on the other hand, she says all that stuff in a way that is literally openly dismissive, I find the intuition that she's not being at least a little bit of an A-hole harder to sustain. It seems to me that she should be willing to at least consider the idea, even if she ultimately thinks that the subfield is worthless and that hiring someone who works in it would be terrible. It seems to me that she shouldn't just dismiss it. She should be willing to engage with it, and to explain to her colleagues how she came to make the judgement she made and why she thinks they should share it. (In fact, it seems to me that the details of the story make it clear that Sally is not being dismissive, even if that word is used to describe her behavior.) If she's not willing to do anything other than be dismissive, then I think she's not living up to her obligations to her colleagues. There's some suggestion on the floor to hire in this or that AOS, and she doesn't think it's a good idea. She doesn't have to enter into the discussion at all if she doesn't want to, but if she does enter it, then I think she owes her colleagues more than just dismissiveness. She owes them a thoughtful explanation.

And it seems to me that this obligation is even more clear if Sally already has colleagues who work in feminist philosophy. If Sally is openly dismissive of a subfield in which her colleagues specialize, and she is dismissive in this way to those colleagues—rather than being, say, engaged in an informed way but ultimately skeptical, or neither engaged nor dismissive—then it seems to me that Sally's department has a real collegiality problem, and that Sally's behavior is a contributor. So, while I would not say that I endorse the Orwellian Suggestion unhesitatingly or in full, it seems to me that it definitely points in the right direction.

What's more, the language of the actual Best Practices document is somewhat softer than that of the Orwellian Suggestion:
2. Students and faculty should be open-minded and cultivate a wide interest in philosophical work, investigate and not disparage areas of philosophy or other disciplines with which they are not familiar. We encourage people to be respectful of those working mainly in other areas of philosophy. Constructive criticism is an important source of progress in philosophy, but it is generally better to focus criticisms on particular arguments and theories rather than whole areas of the discipline, which typically contain a wide variety of work. And we should always avoid raising criticisms that could be construed as an invidious personal attack by any reasonable person—especially in public contexts.
This doesn't say that one must actually develop an appreciation of the plurality of philosophical approaches; it just says that one should be open-minded and cultivate a wide interest in philosophy. That sounds exactly right to me, and it seems to me that Sally is described as having followed that advice. It says that one shouldn't disparage areas and disciplines without being familiar with them, but that's consistent with Sally, as she is described, "disparaging" feminist philosophy, since she is described as being highly familiar with it. What's more, the "non-disparagement clause" is accompanied by a caveat stressing the importance of constructive criticism. It admonishes us to remain respectful, but that's true. We should remain respectful. It counsels us to avoid raising criticisms that could be construed an invidious personal attack by a reasonable person (I'm not entirely sure how to parse the 'any' in that sentence), but that's true, too. If you have a criticism, you should try to avoid raising it in a way that could make a reasonable person see it as a personal attack designed to make them angry. To me, that seems like Personal Interaction 101. But it also says, fire away. To me, that seems right.

So even if the Orwellian Suggestion is unacceptable (and although I don't read it that way, I see how a reasonable person could), it seems to me that it has been superseded by what I would describe as a nice piece of concrete, sensible advice about how to get along with one's colleagues. It seems to me that departments where this advice is not followed—in which colleagues are openly dismissive of one another's work, and of the subfields into which that work can be situated, and in which they are open not only with one another but with one another's students—are likely to be unpleasant places to work (depending on the frequency and severity with which it occurs).

--Mr. Zero

Friday, July 4, 2014

On the Recent Leiter/Jennings Dustup

Five years ago, I wondered whether Brian Leiter's contention that a department's PGR rank correlates well with its job placement record was really true. Recently, over at NewAPPs, Carolyn Dicey Jennings attempted to run the numbers and was met with something of a hostile reaction from Leiter. If I'm honest, though, I'm not sure I see why such hostility was necessary. He airs four main criticisms:
First, by her own admission, the data is incomplete (indeed, woefully incomplete in some cases I know about).
Of course, she was up-front about the incompleteness, and the up-front admission of incompleteness was accompanied by a request for additional data, and she has updated her analysis in light of the additional data. It really seems fine to me to run a preliminary analysis on incomplete data, and then publicize it in the hopes of generating more data (and a discussion of your findings). Of course it would be pretty bad to publicize a preliminary analysis without mentioning that it was preliminary, but Jennings didn't do that.
Second, no one would expect a department's reputation in 2011 to have any correlation with its placement prior to 2011, but almost all the placements recorded by Prof. Jennings are from students who would have started graduate school between 2000 and 2005.   I would think philosophers are smart enough to understood that past placement success is a backward-looking measure, and that current faculty reputation, as it correlates with job placement, is a forward-looking measure.
I'm not sure about this. I would expect a departments reputation in 2011 to correlate at least somewhat with its reputation prior to 2011, so I would expect a (potentially indirect) correlation between placement in 2011 and reputation prior to 2011. I'm not sure why it matters when the recently-placed students started grad school. If my department is trying to place me now, I'd think that its current reputation is more important that whatever its reputation was 10 years ago. (I suppose it would be interesting to see whether PGR rank at the time of enrollment correlates with job market success upon graduation, but the suggestion that Jennings should be doing this study rather than the one she did is too strong.)

And I just don't get this "forward-looking/backward-looking" stuff. Correlations are not inherently directional. Obviously the past is the past, and if you're looking to the past you're looking backward. But people look to the past in the hope of learning about the future all the time. It doesn't always work, but it's not nonsense. It seems to me to make perfect sense to investigate whether current "reputation," as the PGR attempts to measure it, correlates with overall placement record.

But maybe I'm all wrong about this. It's not as though I know what I'm talking about. So if I'm wrong, I hope some Smokers will set me right.
Third, her measure of placement success takes no account of the kinds of jobs graduates secure.  2/2 is the same as 4/4, research university is the same as a liberal arts college, a PhD-granting department is the same as a community college.  I know philosophers happy in all kinds of positions, but it's not information, it's misinformation, to equate them all in purporting to measure job placement.
This criticism strikes me as patently unfair. First, the additional data that would be required to control for these factors would be prohibitively difficult to collect and manage. Second, controlling for job type suggests an unnecessary value-judgment about which jobs are best. Of course people are free to make those judgements, but I'd rather not see them reflected in an analysis of the placement data---particularly not at this preliminary stage. If someone were to do a breakdown of the placement data by job type, similar to the PGR breakdown by specialties, that would be fine and even welcome. Knock yourself out. But the idea that not doing so is "misinformation" is, like, not true.
Fourth, the placement rate is calculated nonsensically:  comparing average placement, as incompletely reported on blogs, between 2011-2014 to average yearly graduates between 2009-2013 is equivalent, in most cases, to comparing two randomly chosen numbers, since many (maybe most) of those placed in 2011-2014 will have completed their degrees well before 2009 and well after 2013.  This is so obvious that I'm mystified why anyone would think this is a relevant comparison.
Again, I just don't see how this is nonsense. The average yearly graduate figure tells you the number of job-seekers per year each program has recently produced; the average yearly placement tells you how many job-seekers per year each program has recently placed in a tenure-track job. In effect, it's a comparison of the department's recent graduation rate with its recent placement rate, and I think it makes perfect sense to make that comparison. Taking averages over several years will smooth over outlier years and compensate for the fact that the candidate's hire year might not be her graduation year.

I see why someone might want to see a straight comparison of graduates to tenure-track hires per year, but---as Leiter points out---a person might get their first tenure-track job well before or well after graduation. I see why someone might want to see a metric that strictly follows individual graduates, but doing so will raise problems in data-collection (departments often don't publicize it when their graduates are unsuccessful on the job market), and in indexing placement records to times (since, again, one's graduation year is often not one's year of first TT hire). (Of course, I don't know which comparisons Leiter would find acceptable, or if he had anything in mind at all. He doesn't suggest a better way to do it, so I'm just guessing.)

So, anyways, the comparison doesn't strike me as nonsensical, but maybe that's just because I don't know what I'm talking about. If that's how it is, I hope the Smokers will set me right.

I also don't see how the reference to NYU's placement record is instructive. Leiter complains that although NYU has "one of the best placement records in the world" but ranks only 26th on CDJ's analysis (this ranking was revised to 14th after new data came in), which Leiter thinks is mediocre. In defense of this, Leiter links to NYU's placement page. But, for one thing, the placement page doesn't tell the whole story of NYU's placement record---it shows how many people they placed (and where) without showing how many people they tried to place. But knowing how many people they put on the market every year is crucial to evaluating their placement record. If (And 26th doesn't have to be mediocre; it could be excellent if there was a large but tight group near the front. Which is one reason I don't love ordinal rankings.) And anyways, Jennings' spreadsheet indicates that NYU's placement record isn't as stellar as Leiter claims---most of their graduates get nice tenure-track jobs, obviously, but a substantial minority do not. You don't need a "perverse ingenuity" to generate that result; you just need to compare the rate at which they produce graduates with the rate at which they place those graduates into tenure-track jobs.

Now. I did not find the way the information was originally presented---as a comparison between the (ordinal) PGR rank and an ordinal "placement" rank---to be at all illuminating, and I'm glad she revised the post to present the information in terms of percentages. I think the focus our profession puts on ordinal rankings is pernicious, as is the fact that the PGR is principally organized in terms of them. But I think it is absolutely worth wondering whether whatever it is that the PGR measures is correlated with success on the tenure-track job market---as I indicated at the top of this post, I've been interested in this question for a long time---and I am grateful to Dr. Jennings for her work on this. And I appreciate her willingness to engage with her critics, to explain what she did and how she did it, and to revise her analysis in response to criticisms. To me, it seems like she has responded to her critics in exactly the right way.

So I'm not sure I see the need for such a hostile response on Leiter's part. Doesn't seem helpful. But what do I know? Nothing.

--Mr. Zero



Thursday, July 3, 2014

Should we do job talks at on-campus interviews?

A while back, Colin Marshall (UW-Seattle) initiated a discussion over yonder about the sometimes-central role that job talks play in the interview process. The discussion didn't really get going, so he wrote in to us -- we who are more familiar with "the horrors and inequities of the market," as Colin put it -- and says:
[M]ost search committees seem to think that the traditional job talk is a perfectly fair way to evaluate job candidates. After going through the market three times and watching various friends' experiences, I'm pretty sure it's not remotely fair (especially for introverts). It would be great to hear from people who have recently been on the market whether they think that job talks should be the norm, and whether there are other things that job committees should consider doing instead.
His original question was the following:
Almost every department I know of gives the job talk a central role in hiring decisions, but I'm wondering whether the traditional job talk really deserves to be sacred while other aspects of the hiring process are changing.

My main reason for skepticism is that I know a number of young philosophers who are (a) great researchers, (b) great teachers, (c) great members of the profession, and (d) great departmental citizens, but who, for various reasons, aren't great at presenting their research to a room full of judgmental strangers, most of whom are non-specialists. The latter skill isn't a bad one to have, but it's surely much less important than (a)-(d). Yet in the traditional job talk, this latter skill is what's privileged, and often used to make judgments about (a)-(d). That seems like a recipe for false negatives.

So here's my question: what alternatives to the job talk have hiring departments tried for campus visits, and are there un-tried alternatives we should consider? I have a hunch that our profession could do much better.
I like giving talks, but that just might be because I feel like I'm really good at giving them. In fact, giving talks is probably the philosophical skill I feel like I've mastered (the content, on the other hand...). Though I've only had to give 2 or so job talks, they seemed to go pretty well.

I've also had on-campus visits to other schools that did research sessions -- passing out a paper beforehand and being asked questions about the paper for an hour or so like a mini-defense; the horror! -- and I've bombed; just did an outright terrible job.

And for my current position (VAP), I didn't have to do a job talk at all. Instead, I was only interviewed over Skype, which I will never fail to plug as the most equitable, fair way for departments to do first-round interviews of graduate students, adjuncts, or other members of the profession who do not have travel budgets, but who do (likely) have internet connections.

And while I might prefer giving talks, I probably agree with Colin that they might be especially noisy for making hiring decisions (like so many other parts of the interview process). Perhaps we might do better.

Any thoughts about interviews and what to do instead?

-- Jaded, Ph.D.

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Citing Your Own Unpublished Work

In comments here, anon 8:30 asks:
Short version: Can you cite your own unpublished work? 
Longer version: What do you do when you're writing a paper and want to refer to another paper you've written that goes into more detail on a certain point or supporting argument that you don't have time to address at length in the current paper -- but that other paper is unpublished? Are you just screwed?
Short version: yes, you can cite your own unpublished work.

Longer version: even if it looks bad, it won't look bad to anyone, since no one will probably read your paper. Just kidding, kind of. But seriously, I think it's basically ok. At least, it is as long as the thing you cite is eventually published. If I'm reading your 2014 paper in 2014 and I see you do this, I might hold it against you a little, or I might not. Either way, I probably wouldn't think it was a big deal. If your 2014 paper got published, your unpublished paper will probably eventually be published, too. (Of course, I would have more confidence in this inference the farther along you are in your career.)

And if I'm reading your 2014 paper in 2020, and I see that the unpublished paper came out in 2016 (accounting for longish review times and journal backlogs), I wouldn't care at all. I'd figure you'd been working on the two things at the same time, and the one in front of me happened to come out first. No big deal.

However, if I'm reading your 2014 paper in 2024 and I see that the unpublished paper never came out, I might come to have doubts about the substance of that paper. I don't know if those doubts would infect my opinion of the paper in front of me or not. Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on how crucial the point in the unpublished paper is to the 2014 paper, and, like, whether I'm in a good mood, and stuff like that.

One thing I'd be cautious about, though, is that I've had papers change substantially over the course of the refereeing process. It would be a bit of a bummer if published version of the paper you're citing didn't connect with the 2014 paper as well as the unpublished version did.

Additionally, I'm pretty sure I've seen big-name people do this. At least, I'm pretty sure I've seen Mark Schroeder do this. But maybe he's earned the right in a way that us under-laborers haven't. And maybe I'm wrong about this whole thing.

What say you, Smokers?

--Mr. Zero

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

I wish to register a complaint...


I was thinking about a follow-up to the last thread, on your pet peeves re: journals, journal editing practices, etc. But there's this: SciRev has a database collecting data/reviews of journals. The info on philosophy journals is pretty sparse, but you can populate it with info on turnaround times, number of reviews, etc.

Providing this info can, of course, be useful to your fellow philosophers. So do it. Inconveniently, you have to register to review journals, but you can see the ratings without registering, if you're okay with being a free rider.

You can also complain anonymously here. Or heap praise upon the virtuous, as the case may be.

~zombie

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Review round-up: The good, the bad, and being helpful.

I've had some mixed experiences with peer review this month. The bad: a journal that held my paper for three months, then returned it saying it was "inappropriate" for the journal with absolutely no reviewer comments. Which is bullshit. It's not "inappropriate" (at least not as I understand that word) for the journal, as they happen to have a special issue coming out on the very same (general) topic. (There was no public CFP for that special issue: the papers included are really, really, really obviously invited, all bigwigs who write about it all the time.) Methinks inappropriate in this case means, "you were not invited to write a paper for our special issue, and we don't need your stinkin' anonymous nobody paper." Which, you know, they could have told me that in a lot less than three months, so I could have moved on with my stinkin' paper.

Which reminds me of a paper that got outright rejected seven times in seven days -- I appreciate that the journals were clearly not interested and said so in a timely manner. (It was finally accepted.)

The good: I got a paper back last week with some of the most helpful, most detailed comments and suggestions for revisions I've ever received, which I am quite sure will really make the paper better. In re-reading my paper, I can clearly see what the reviewers meant, and how their suggestions can be implemented. Plus, the reviewers understood what I was doing, and their suggestions were in the spirit of making that more effective. My sole complaint there is the journal's use of AMA style (numbered references), which is a total pain when you're making revisions that will require reordering and renumbering all the references. (Maybe there's a way to make that happen automatically, and maybe I need to finally learn how to use Scrivener, but I haven't yet had time to do that. Kinda busy trying to write papers.)

So, it made me think about my own reviews for papers, and how much time I spend on them, and how well I write them. I guess one issue for me is that I don't have a lot of time, but I do agree to review papers a few times a year because it is part of the process, and a contribution to the profession.  But maybe I haven't thought enough about how much my reviews might assist authors (rather than journals), especially authors like me, who are junior and having to crank out a lot of work for tenure, working in virtual isolation from peers, and without adequate support systems in place to get useful feedback on papers. (I mean, I have friends in philosophy, but there's only so much I want to impose on them. My colleagues would not be much help.) I've reviewed some really terrible papers, and some really pretty good ones, and I think really hard about my judgments on their publication-worthiness. But now I'm really thinking my reviews could use some improvement, and I should focus more than I have been on being helpful to the authors.

~zombie

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Bad advice

Things are quiet around here. Too quiet. Inspired by this Twitter thread, and in the aftermath of the W incident, what bad advice about grad school or the job market have you been given? Or good advice?

I received no specific bad advice, just lots of conflicting advice. I was always told that getting a TT job was a longshot. I was told to NEVER go to APA Eastern unless I had a job interview. That is good advice I have followed. Last year, I didn't go even with job interviews (Hello Skype! "Can you see me?").

~zombie

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Leaving Academia

(Glad to still see some people using the internet despite the Heartbleed bug!)

A few days ago, Justin at Daily Nous pointed us to this post about what departments might do to help those who are leaving academia.

He ends his post:
I think it would be helpful to hear ideas about what departments can do, or have been doing, to help current students or recent graduates find non-academic careers. Maybe some brainstorming is in order. And perhaps we can draw from other professions, such as the arts or athletics, which also are structured to leave many aspirants lacking the jobs their training seemingly best prepares them for.
I was recently told by a friend who pursued an alt-ac career that their advisor's possible reaction scared them the most (well, maybe not most, but it worried them). But, once revealed, the advisor was nothing but supportive and that made pursuing a different career easier.

Read the whole post, then comment.

-- Jaded, Ph.D. 

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

PhilJobs News

PhilJobs' new Appointments feature has gone live, and it is good. You can see all appointments at once, or click separate tabs for Senior hires, Junior TT, Fellowships, and "other" (VAPs, adjuncts, etc.). A nice convenience is that the listings are in descending order (most recent postings at the top), unlike Leiter's ascending scroll. There's also a search field, so you can search for a position, or one of your friends.

PhilJobs is doing this in conjunction with the APA, as part of the initiative to track hiring data. Appointments data from Leiter's thread and Carolyn Dicey Jennings' database have been incorporated for one-stop shopping.

~zombie

Friday, March 21, 2014

Round-up # 2 on W's story, and a few of my own thoughts

Later update: See this Daily Nous post for information about and discussion of a petition started by Chad Kautzer (CU-Denver) calling upon the APA to "condemn" the actions of the search committee--I think I'm with those who think this might be too strong, but see the discussion--and to suggest guidelines in the APA handbook on placement practices covering these sorts of situations--which sounds like a good suggestion to me.

W's story has legs, it seems (see also the first round-up for some of the same stories, but with different excellent commentary). It's been talked about in mainstream circles in the following ways:
(If you're keeping track, the philosophy job market is being talked about (in order) by: Jezebel, Slate, The Guardian, Bloomberg View, Forbes, Slate (again), and the LA Times.)

More measured, informed responses--some quite fantastic--have been appearing in academic circles. In addition to the excellent ones listed here and the nice coverage by Colleen Flaherty at Inside Higher Ed, I want to single out two more pieces.

First, is Janet D. Stemwedel's (DocFreeRide) piece on reciprocity and the obligations search committees have to candidates. Among other great observations about W's requests for a lighter teaching load being evidence for her commitment to teaching, she remarks:
A job candidate is not a mere means to fulfill your department’s ends. Buyer’s market or not, a job candidate should not be treated as a supplicant deserving of punishment for asking questions in good faith. A job candidate is your potential colleague. A job candidate to whom an offer of employment has been extended should be treated as your future colleague.
The second piece I want to highlight is David M. Ball's at Inside Higher Ed. Ball's editorial deftly weaves together the many issues and questions that W's case raises: the relationship between search committee and candidate, the mentoring of students at R1s in preparation for teaching jobs, the unique challenges (and harms) women face in academia, the power dynamics in higher education, and the move colleges are making to employ more contingent faculty. If there's one piece on the topic you should read, read Ball's.

With that in mind, I find it hard to pick out a single quote from Ball's editorial, so here are a few:
To presume that an expression of interest in conducting research speaks to the unfitness of a SLAC candidate or that R1 institutions are in no way student-centered is as counterproductive as the persistent stigma against SLACs amongst some graduate advisers. The ones who suffer amidst all of this misinformation are the candidates themselves.... 
To speculate on Nazareth’s complicity in these broader dynamics [e.g., philosophy's gender problem] is just that: speculation (and kudos to them for achieving what must have been a hard-won gender parity amongst their tenured faculty in the department). But driving much of the animus against W’s actions in the comments is a sense that she has overstepped the bounds of propriety in a gendered power dynamic in which she is expected to be compliant and grateful for the terms presented her.... 
As for the argument that the successful candidate in this economic climate, regardless of gender, should shut her mouth: at no other likely juncture will a junior professor have a better opportunity to negotiate the terms of her employment than at the moment of her hiring. The conditions under which she is employed will dramatically shape her chances for promotion and tenure. Negotiated terms matter to future success. Indeed, the tenure track itself doesn’t accede to the logic of the market.
I especially like the point that Ball brings up about the perception problems that exist between R1s and SLACs. A quick anecdote on this topic: When I was on the market, my advisor remarked to me before a mock interview: "I don't know how helpful this will be since, back in my day, we didn't even take interviews at teaching schools."

For some candidates, this represents the pinnacle of job market advice they will receive.

Anyway. One reason that I've been silent on the matter is that these two pieces say what I want to say really well. But I do have a few things to add.

First, we should acknowledge something emphasized to me by my (very perceptive/smart) significant other who has hiring and interviewing experience at a tiny non-profit: Hiring and interviewing is hard, especially if you haven't been explicitly trained to do those sorts of things and don't have much help. Now compound the difficulty of hiring and interviewing with teaching and research duties and throw in a dash of making what must seem a monumental decision (colleague potentially for life!). I don't doubt at all the claims that Nazareth acted rashly in rescinding the offer, but they definitely had a tough job.

Second, I want to echo W's push-back on the attempts to divine her character--"spoiled," "entitled," "millennial who has received trophies just for trying," blah, blah, blah--from the e-mail she sent to Nazareth and also from her response to the commenters.

The thought that we can judge anybody's character--even the characters of the members of the search committee at Nazareth--on the basis of something so slippery as the tone of an e-mail, displays incredible over-confidence in one's ability to read others (a possible sign of narcissism), ignorance of how implicit biases influence judgments like the ones being made about W, and an inability to consider how such judgments might embody well-established cognitive errors. (I think some of these points apply equally well to Nazareth's claim that they could tell from W's e-mail that she was interested more in a research institution than she was in teaching; what happened to all the information they received in the rest of the interview process?)

Third, no one who has discussed this situation responsibly directly attributes the withdrawing of W's offer to her request for maternity leave or to any possible sexism on the part of the search committee. (On a similar point: no serious person has suggested that Nazareth did anything illegal by rescinding the job offer. Did they do something a bit rash? A bit out-of-the-blue? Possibly unjustified from a non-legal, vaguely moral standpoint? Yeah. And for all the various reasons people I've linked to here and previously have mentioned.)

All responsible discussion about the role W's gender might have played in these negotiations, focuses on the cultural or structural realities, academic and otherwise, in which negotiations take place, not the hearts and minds of the members of the search committee (in line with the point above, I think any such speculation about the search committee would be rash and unjustified).

However, negotiations don't take place in a vacuum. The research I've linked to previously shows that women face unique challenges that men do not face when negotiating. So it's a natural topic to consider. And, in any case, I will always be of the opinion that the challenges women and other underrepresented groups face in philosophy is a topic worthy of discussion. I welcome any and all opportunities to talk about this because I think addressing these challenges and making philosophy more inclusive is important for the health--moral and epistemic--of the discipline (for more on the importance of this discussion, see also Zombie's point in the first Inside Higher Ed article).

On the point about sexism having a possible role in W's case, when I was first contacted about the story by a reporter I was asked:
[W]hat do you think of this? Do you think this is particularly prone to happen in a philosophy dept? I'm wondering in particular about the maternity leave request, given some of the stereotypes/reports about misogyny in philosophy.
I was taken aback by the reference to misogyny in philosophy. I responded:
I'm not sure I would be comfortable saying that something like this is more prone in a philosophy department than in a department in a different discipline. The request for maternity leave was couched among a few other requests that, as W acknowledged, might have been more difficult to grant than other requests. Given that Nazareth refused to negotiate, we can't be certain if it was one request in particular, or the requests as a whole that made them wary of W's commitment to the school; we can only go off the reasons that Nazareth gave: They thought W a bad fit for the department.

I think there are good and bad reasons for...thinking someone might be a good or bad fit, but given our meager information, I think it is impossible to divine any deeper motives than those Nazareth gave and, as such, it would be irresponsible to level any accusations about the possible role of misogyny in the decision.

I thought the real story was the refusal to negotiate and withdraw the offer without speaking to W...about the worries they had about...fit.... And this was disheartening especially given the advice job candidates often receive, e.g., that there is no harm in negotiating contracts.
I stand by that. The story is mainly about negotiating and how to go about doing it, but that story also bears importantly on the relationship between R1s and SLACs, about mentoring in graduate school, about how to present oneself to a search committee, about the perception of women in academia, about the communication breakdowns between candidates and search committees, etc, etc.

But this is a job market story, mainly, and it provides more information on a topic that might have not otherwise been available.

This brings me to my last point. We should all thank W for sharing her story with us, especially in light of the unwarranted abuse she has received (far and wide). For those thinking that W was simply crying over spilt milk: First, notice that the story was never pitched in a way that was meant to elicit sympathy for W; nor did her response have any such WOE-IS-ME, WHY-IS-EVERYONE-PICKING-ON-ME 'tone.'

Second, if W wanted sympathy, she had to have known that she wouldn't be getting it from internet commenters or from philosophers, who, on this blog, call each other names while debating the minutiae of dating one's colleagues/students in a thread approaching (exceeding?) 650 comments (seriously, y'all?).

So you should know that when W first contacted me, she mainly noted that she had a story she thought our readers would find interesting.

She obviously thought right.

But she also sold the interest in her story a bit short (we all did!) and undersold its importance. This is crucial information to have for those who might have mentors who are ignorant of the realities on the ground or who might not have much information themselves. Of course, I'd heard about the fears candidates have that a rescinded job offer was a possibility and I'd heard about the lack of information about how to negotiate and the lack of transparency in hiring decisions, but I hadn't heard about anything so stark as having an offer taken away.

Now I've been blogging about and discussing these issues for the past 7 or so years and I hadn't heard any stories about job offers being rescinded. With that in mind, think back to my advisor who never even considered taking an interview at a teaching school. These are the types of people many of us have advising us about negotiations. That's one reason why I think W's story is important.

So while we may have been naive before, we're all a little less naive now.

For those on the market or entering the market, that's a good position to be in.

-- Jaded, Ph.D.