Academia Succumbs To Desire

A few years ago, being considerably brighter of eye and bushier of tail, I was enrolled in a research workshop which was supposed to be about comparative politics but which soon came to be known as "Tenure: The History of Desire" since a significant portion of class discussion was inevitably devoted to a discussion of tenure and the formulation of various strategies for achieving desired outcomes.

Those of us interested in pursuing careers as college professors, were advised to challenge vested interests only after being granted tenure. I found it (remember I was young) difficult to imagine that the ritual slaughter of the elders would have any appeal whatsoever to the newly tenured, since they would in effect be attacking themselves--now custodians of the sacred grove [academia].

In ongoing conversations with graduate students across campus, the necessity of making safe choices, career and otherwise, has been a recurring theme. During a discussion of the benefits and disadvantages of the Socratic method of teaching in American law schools with a 3L, I asked about the Oedipal thrill which must underlie intellectual jousting with a law professor.

"I don't want an Oedipal thrill," he retorted, looking at me pityingly, "I just want a job with [a downtown New York law firm]."

Because it is difficult, if not impossible, to live comfortably on the East Coast while earning less than six figures, anything that could conceivably jeopardize a future career and minimize earning potential, is to be strenuously avoided. As a result, risk-averse behavior becomes the dispiriting norm in universities everywhere.

Certain political attitudes are encouraged and endorsed. Radical independent thinking is discouraged.

Academics who refuse to toe the line, end up in the kind of purgatory to which iconoclasts such as Camille Paglia--who while not as brilliant as she believes herself to be, does have some interesting ideas--have been banished.

Let's look at the case of X, a recent graduate student here at Harvard, who had been doing some theoretical work that deviated from the norm and in the process had ruffled some departmental feathers. X, a purist who was convinced that good work was all that was needed to triumph was neither very diplomatic nor politically savvy and not overly concerned with massaging egos.

X, needing to be funded for a postdoctoral project solicited recommendations from various faculty members and received generally enthusiastic ones from junior faculty, one of whom wrote, "X is one of the two top students in the class, the substantive issues that X would bring to the group--grounded in extensive empirical work, institutional analysis and a solid understanding of [the field]--would invigorate the program."

One tenured professor, now a departmental chair (whose ruffled feathers had not been smoothed), disagreed vehemently, nothing in a confidential letter that "X has [only] come to appreciate (at a primitive level) some of the [theoretical aspects of the work]... I do not believe X falls into a high priority category." Guess who prevailed.

It is extraordinarily difficult while comfortably ensconced in a Harvard aerie, with a magnificent view of one's kingdom--a view which reminds one of all which is at stake--to press for substantive change. Thus, any change will, of necessity, come from the margins...Littauer's basement, the Hilles bunker and until recently, the first floor of Langdell.

So let's say you, the budding academic, finally come across a congenial bunch. You've determined that their intellectual work is at a sophisticated remove from anything else you've encountered in your (admittedly brief) career. After doing the political calculations, you realize with a frisson of horror that you can't remember the last time a Critical Legal Studies advocate was tenured anywhere. What do you do?

The prudent wannabe, recognizing the pitfalls inherent in this enterprise, finds a new affinity group--preferably one oriented toward law and economics. The intellectually adventurous wannabe, takes a vow of poverty, digs in her heels and prepares for a bumpy ride.

Lorraine A. Lezama's column appears on alternate Tuesdays.