The Academic Pecking Order

The first thing I would like to do is explain the title of my blog: Don't Call me Professor.

When I tell people that I teach at a university, they assume I am a professor. It is not an unreasonable assumption, but I am not, in fact, a professor. The other day at physical therapy, the PT assistant working with me asked me what I did for a living. I told him I teach at ABC College. He replied, "Aren't you a little young to be a college teacher?" Huh? I paused while trying to think of how to respond, then I just jokingly said, "I'm a lot older than I look" (which is actually true, although even if he thought I was 13 years younger than I actually am, I would still not be "too young" to be a "college teacher"). Now, this PTA is not an idiot, and he's actually an amazing PTA, so this just made me realize how little the general public understands about academia.

Generally speaking, and I should add that all of what I'm about to say is generally speaking, there are two types of teaching jobs at colleges and universities: tenure-track jobs and non tenure-track jobs. Faculty are divided into two major groups: tenure-track faculty (TTF) and non-tenure-track faculty (NTTF). With few exceptions, almost all TTF have terminal degrees in their fields. A terminal degree is the highest degree you can have in a particular field, which for most academic fields is a doctorate/Ph.D. NTTF may or may not have a terminal degree. Many NTTF positions only require a master's degree, although it is not uncommon for a person with a Ph.D. to hold a non-tenure-track position, as academic jobs can be hard to come by.

If you are TTF, you can either be an assistant professor, an associate professor, or a full professor. You start as an assistant professor, which means you don't have tenure yet, but getting tenure is a possibility (hence why you are tenure-track). Tenure requirements vary by school, discipline, and even department, but generally require you to prove that you are a competent teacher, publish research, and do "service," such as serving on committees, for your school. Getting tenure basically means you have job stability for the rest of your life unless the school gets rid of your whole department, or you, like, kill someone and go to jail. (Sleeping with students is okay, though.) The idea behind tenure is that you can't get fired for spewing crazy left-wing communist beliefs, as everyone knows all academics like to do. LOL. If you get tenure, you become an associate professor. If you don't get tenure, you're pretty much screwed. Of course, you can always try to apply for a job at a different school, but that isn't as easy at it sounds. The highest status you can achieve is that of full professor, or just "professor." Meaning, if someone's job title is simply "professor," they are a full professor, assuming they aren't embellishing their resume. Achieving full professor status requires additional achievements, which again, vary greatly. It is also worth mentioning that plenty of perfectly decent and accomplished academics end their careers as associate professors.

I do not believe the distinction between assistant, associate, and full professor is well understood outside of academic circles. If I were at a party and someone told me she was a professor, I wouldn't consider it a lie even if she wasn't a full professor. Outside of academia, "professor" covers all levels of tenure-track positions. When I went to college, I certainly wasn't aware of these discrepancies. In fact, I once mentioned to my mom that my professor wasn't a real professor; she was only an assistant! My mom had to explain to me that "assistant professor" (not to be confused with a "teaching assistant") just means someone doesn't have tenure, which doesn't mean they are incompetent; more likely, it just means they are young (although it is possible they are incompetent as well). The funny thing about this is that my father is actually a professor. Of course, throughout my lifetime, he has made the full progression through the tenure-track - from assistant to associate to full professor, although I always just told everyone he was a "professor." So, little did I know despite growing up the daughter of an academic. 

While the differences between the levels within the tenure-track are not trivial, there is an even bigger difference between the tenure-track and the non-tenure-track. This is also a difference that does not seem to be at all well understood by the general public. Non-tenure-track faculty, NTTF, are called instructors or lecturers, and can be full-time, part-time, or adjuncts. Generally speaking, while TTF teach and do research, NTTF just teach. By "just teach," I mean they usually do not do research or have to publish, although they may have non-teaching duties, depending on their job descriptions. As a whole, NTTF have less job stability, are paid much less than TTF, and have a lesser-than status within their departments.

I am a full-time instructor. At my school, TTF are usually expected to teach a 3/2 load, meaning that in a given year they teach 3 courses one semester and 2 courses the other semester. Full-time NTTF have to teach 12 credit hours per semester, which in most cases translates into a 4/4 load, or 4 courses per semester. These are usually the large, introductory-level courses, or in the case of the sciences, the lab component of courses.

Of course, there are different levels within NTTF as well. As a full-time NTTF, the one promotion I can receive is from "instructor" to "senior instructor," which I'm actually eligible for this year. We'll see how that turns out. This has little implication for me other than a $3,000 or so a year pay raise. Although I'm on a yearly contract, my position is considered "permanent," so as long as I do a decent job, I have reasonable job stability. Full-time NTTF also get the same benefits as TTF, just not the same pay. 

So back to the title of this blog.

As far as college faculty go, the people who have it the worst are the adjuncts. Adjuncts are temporary faculty hired on an "as needed" basis, semester-by-semester, to teach courses. They are generally very poorly paid, have little job stability, and probably most importantly, do not usually receive benefits. A lot of permanent, full-time faculty, TTF and NTTF alike, have been adjuncts at one point in their careers, but it is not a sustainable way to make a living for yourself long-term. Now, there are some adjuncts who like being adjuncts, and this is usually because they have a spouse with a good job and just want to work part-time, or they are retired from another job and still want to work a little, or they have another day job and just enjoy "teaching on the side" at the university. For example, one of my colleagues is a chiropractor and has flexible hours, and enjoys teaching anatomy labs here and there. However, most adjuncts do not fit into this category, and the majority would be full-time permanent if they could be. Many adjuncts are highly educated and highly trained individuals, with Ph.D.s and post-docs, who are adjuncting until they find a permanent position.

The problem is that these highly desired permanent positions within academia are not keeping pace with the increases in demand for higher education. This is has actually been getting some attention recently, as there is a lot of talk these days about the "adjunctification" or "Walmart-ization" of higher education. It is not difficult to find articles documenting the alarming trend toward hiring more and more instructors as opposed to professors. As an instructor, I take some exception to the idea that we should be alarmed that, gasp, people like myself are allowed to teach at a university. I am good at my job, and I think I teach introductory biology just as well as anyone with a Ph.D. and three post-docs can, maybe even better. Instructors just have different roles than professors; it is like a physician assistant versus an orthopedic surgeon. My PA is perfectly capable of performing an awesome pap smear (LOL), but when I need to have two holes cut through my hip and an anchor stuck into my hip bone to repair torn cartilage, I'd prefer that a person with 4 years of med school and 5 years of residency and 2 years of fellowships do it.

At the same time, I get it. I don't think the fundamental argument is that instructors are incapable, just that colleges and universities need to make a bigger commitment to hiring more full-time, permanent faculty, particularly within the tenure-track. Of course, a major issue is that instructors are cheap labor, much cheaper than professors. They teach more classes with more students and are paid less. Adjuncts are the cheapest, as they are paid less than full-time permanent instructors and usually do not receive benefits.

I recently read a few articles (e.g., here and here) about how adjuncts at the City University of New York now include a line in their course syllabi that says, To ensure that we remain conscious of the adjunctification of CUNY, we ask that you do not call us 'Professor', which is what gave me the idea for the name of my blog. Admittedly, I have a much better situation than an adjunct. Nevertheless, I am not a professor, something I am reminded of every day when I go to work.

Non-professor faculty such as myself are becoming more and more common. When you tell someone you teach at a university, the immediate image that pops to mind is that of a pretentious and overpaid academic who spouts esoteric bullshit that only a few other people in the world are brilliant enough to understand. That is most certainly not me. I'd argue that that is not actually 99.5% of tenured, full professors, but we'll save that for another day. But along those lines, I want to add here that I do not want to be a professor, so my unhappiness with my job is not because I am not a professor. Professors have a lot of responsibilities that instructors do not, and particularly in the sciences, a person with a Ph.D. and several post docs has education, training, and skills far beyond that of a person like me, who barely managed to finish her master's.

On a final note, for obvious reasons, I am not going to use my real name, or anyone's real name, here. For myself, I am going to stick with a name that has worked well for me online: Waning Moon. (Maybe someday I'll blog about the name. :)) For everyone else in my life, I'll just make it up as I go along. At any rate, my students, out of respect, often want to call me "Professor Moon" or "Dr. Moon," and since I am neither, I always ask them to just call me Waning. If they are not okay with this, I tell them they can call me Ms. Moon. Then I tell them the story about how one of my boyfriends in high school insisted on calling my father Mr. Moon, instead of Crescent, which is what my dad has always preferred to be called despite being both a "professor" and a "doctor." Finally, one day my dad told my boyfriend, "If you call me Mr. Moon one more time, I am going to punch you." LOL, poor boyfriend. But it does illustrate how I was reared and where some of my attitudes come from.

So in addition to this being a brief lesson in academic hierarchies, let this also serve as my introduction to you. Don't call me professor, please just call me Waning.