Sphinx

There’s been a lot of discussion on the Twitter this week about an advertised vacancy for a fixed-term teaching position that expects the successful candidate to devise an MA module related to their own research. I’m going to out myself as an Old Person, and possibly bring a shower of condemnation on my head, by confessing that my feelings about this are more mixed than the prevalent judgement that this is obviously and unacceptably exploitative. In my day, when I was applying for such positions, I was far more attracted to positions that offered such freedom rather than defining the job in terms of which pre-existing courses should be taught – and, yes, it’s entirely revealing that I think of this in terms of ‘freedom’.

I am not for a moment suggesting that this is how today’s young scholars ought to be thinking about jobs; rather, it emphasises the difference between then and now, and perhaps explains some of the unexamined assumptions of those devising job descriptions today, which were formed by their experiences then. That is to say, I’m not sure how far such positions are deliberately exploitative, rather than reflecting a certain thoughtlessness, or even the negative consequences of good intentions.

What’s changed in thirty years? One obvious thing is the level of demands on early career scholars to give themselves any hope of a career. I spent the whole of the summer after submitting my PhD (in the fourth year, to touch on another recent debate…) living with my parents and preparing teaching; partly because I had somehow landed a position in Greek History and had to catch up with literature in various areas, and partly just because I could, postponing any thought of further writing or research until after the viva, whereas today’s young scholars have to submit their theses and then get straight on with other potential publications. Having to devise entirely new courses is an additional demand on time and energy that are already depleted and over-committed – let alone having to devise them in advance of actually knowing that you’ve got the job, or even just to get a shot at being shortlisted. At the very least, the idea of demanding a course design as part of the initial application process is simply insane.

But there is another thing that’s changed: the amount of material available for a pre-existing course, in terms of structure, reading lists, compilations of sources, PowerPoint slides etc., such that it is today possible to take over a course with a much smaller amount of preparation than it once was. Thirty years ago, taking over an existing course meant having to accept a theme and structure which wouldn’t necessarily be how you’d want to do it (and this can be really quite difficult, as I’ve found over the last two years in teaching a course in Exeter devised by one of my colleagues), but not necessarily a lot more – if I’d got a position with a more specified teaching load, I’d still have had to do the months of preparation, creation of material for students etc., just with much less freedom to organise things to play to my own strengths. Freedom’s just another word for nothing there to use…

Today, for any existing module/unit there is generally a load of stuff on Blackboard and the like that can simply be adapted and adopted by anyone assigned to teach it, rather than having to be created from scratch. So, getting a teaching fellow to create a new course is a task that is not actually necessary for the delivery of their part of the programme (or, not a way of making the TF’s job easier by allowing them to draw on their own expertise and material). It also results in the creation of material that could be reused by the department as well as the teacher; I’m honestly not sure how far this is a deliberate outcome (what’s the value in having a course that’s closely linked to the specific interests and expertise of someone you’re not planning to employ for more than a year?), but given that these fixed-term positions are increasingly exploitative anyway, this adds insult to injury.

Over the last twenty-odd years I have mourned, and regularly cursed, the enormous increase in gratuitous bureaucracy surrounding the creation of new units/modules, such that it can take a year or more to get a new one approved (while facing down a general air of disapproval). I persist in the view that this is driven partly by the science model, when the creation of a new module implies the emergence of an entirely new field of study and so requires lots of careful prepation and scrutiny that simply doesn’t apply to humanities courses – and partly by the usual ‘quality’ dilemma, whereby the only means of demonstrating proper quality assurance is to have elaborate, extensively documented processes for everything.

I’ve mourned this not least because of the sense that the freedom I enjoyed as a new lecturer and even as a temporary teaching fellow to create new courses, make use of my expertise etc. has been denied to younger generations. But it starts to look like a blessing in disguise, that already overburdened young scholars cannot be compelled to do more preparation than they need to (given that they aren’t being paid for it) – and so shouldn’t be asked to. The struggle goes on to ensure that such positions are properly funded and not exploitative (this isn’t new; my first job was a six-month one, neatly covering the teaching period, with pro rata payment for exam marking having to be chiselled out of the university by the department), and this is just one element – but it’s one that I must admit I hadn’t fully thought through until now.