Members of a search committee meet to discuss their near-unanimous positive reactions to a job candidate's campus interview. Professor Homais is the lone holdout: "I found it disturbing that she did not like teaching," he says. The other committee members, unwilling to pick a fight with a senior colleague, eventually vote to hire another candidate.
The job in question may be a tenure-track position at a high-powered research university, and the candidate's love of research may have included its dissemination in the classroom, but somehow Professor Homais heard differently, and the bee he had in his bonnet was roiled and set to sting. So he decided to oppose the candidate.
That's a case of what I call the "nuclear veto" in hiring. You as a candidate may write or speak tens of thousands of words in your job-application materials, interviews, and presentations; 99.9 percent of your comments may find a favorable response with members of the hiring committee. But if you make one remark that hits a sour note, is misinterpreted, offends someone, or upsets some pet idea or theory, that single misstep can be fatal to your hiring.
Unfair? Absolutely. Common? Unfortunately.
Sometimes, for whatever reason, someone on a search committee tries to find a way to stop your candidacy. That professor may decide to be outraged by something you have said, or determined to take it out of context. You can't completely inoculate yourself from the nuclear veto, but there are some techniques you can use to anticipate and ward it off.
Have your mentors vet your application. Consult multiple trusted sources to get the best picture of how to write a good letter of application and structure an attractive and comprehensive CV that is as error-free and controversy-free as possible. Make sure your mentors know their stuff. You want them to give you an honest critique and let you know when something you've said or written might be misconstrued. Good mentors can, perhaps, even warn you about irascible senior scholars of whom you want to be especially wary in the hiring process.
Know your audience. If you are interviewing for a position at a small liberal-arts college or a community college, practically everyone you meet will want to hear about your dedication, experience, and love of teaching. When the audience is mixed, such as for jobs at large universities that honor research, teaching, and service, you can get a fairly good sense of people's interests and concerns from their online bios or CV's. If Professor Homais, for example, is so concerned about teaching standards, probably he has written some essay on the subject. If you are having lunch with him, bring it up and showcase your teaching credentials. The point is not to twist yourself into someone who promises everything to everybody but to make sure that each constituency for your hire feels that its concerns are adequately met.
Gauge the room. One of the biggest complaints about job candidates, regardless of field, is that they are so focused and rehearsed in presenting themselves that they fail to listen to the responses from the people they meet at conference interviews, on the phone, or at campus visits. You can go a long way toward warding off a nuclear veto by using your senses to gauge people's reactions, even their tone of voice and pauses over the phone. You want to detect if something you have said (or left unsaid) has people wondering or even irritated.
For example, an assistant professor in the social sciences who was looking to switch from one tenure-track job to another was invited for a campus interview. At the initial dinner with the search committee, someone asked him about his research interests. His answer was polished and incisive. He could tell, however, that a senior faculty member, Professor Maximus, looked a bit disconcerted. That night, back at the hotel, the candidate did what he should have done earlier and looked at the old fellow's bio. He found that in the early part of his career Maximus had published extensively in a related area.
Ask questions. Sometimes the only way to assess whether you have failed to say enough, or have said too much, on a subject is to ask. Don't conclude your job talk by asking, "So, have I ticked anyone off?" Instead, probe politely: "If I were lucky enough to be working with you, what would be your advice about what my priorities should be here?"
Such a question is attractive on several counts. It expresses a degree of humility, which is perceived to be a character trait lacking in many newly minted doctorate holders. It also is open-ended and inviting, so that someone who genuinely may have that proverbial bee in his bonnet will reveal it and allow you to pacify it.
Limit pontification and rambling. Offer as small a target as possible. No need to be so cautious and cryptic in your research presentations that you come off as too shy for the classroom and too detached for the lab. But we all have witnessed what I call the "worldly philosophical" job talk.
I recall one. The candidate was discussing his research area, which was pretty much limited to a narrow area of entertainment television. But he responded to every question, and every new slide of his, with a rambling discourse on political, sexual, and social issues. A colleague of mine leaned over and whispered, "I didn't know our position called for a 'worldly philosopher.'" Ninety-nine percent of our irritation would not have been incited if the candidate had just kept on topic. For most of us, his meanderings were the single factor that killed his chances.
Show some humility. Another tool for lessening the chance of a nuclear veto is avoiding overstatement. Senior scholars interviewing new Ph.D.'s or young assistant professors will never find arrogance a deserved or attractive quality. In fact, the more cocksure and self-important you seem, either in your letter or in person, the more likely someone is going to try to find a quote or action to hang you with at the next search-committee meeting.
One of the best job candidates I ever saw presented major but preliminary findings of her dissertation. What we all appreciated was her framing it not as the summa that some doctoral candidates feign but rather as a tentative and early exploration of a subject that she was obviously excited about and engaged in. We could see her as a future assistant professor following a coherent track of research and not at any time assuming she would be the font of all knowledge on the topic.
Point out the chinks in your own armor. Anticipate small flaws in your record or persona that might get blown out of proportion. A famous interchange in Akira Kurosawa's film Seven Samurai offers some shrewd advice in that regard. Samurai defending a peasant village detect a weak spot in their fortifications. Their leader, however, notes, and I paraphrase, that "every good fortress should have some obvious flaw so that we know where the enemy will attack."
Indeed, no matter how shiny your CV, or how well you fit the position, you will always have a few ways in which you come up short. And you may run into critics who can't see past that weakness and indulge in a nuclear veto of your candidacy. Why not nullify those weaknesses by pointing them out yourself and putting them in context? Critics will be impressed by your candor and assume that, in time, you will overcome the challenge, since they know they are hiring you for your potential, not your perfection.
Search committees are collections of humans, with all the fickleness that comes from any intraspecies enterprise. But you can engage in a little bit of self-reflection, planning, and, above all, sensitivity to inoculate yourself against a minor error that could have a major consequence.
Comments
1. ynori - December 03, 2009 at 01:41 am
David Perlmutter is spot on with his advice, especially the part about conceding possible shortcomings in one's job talk or research program. Not only is everyone in the room well aware that no one is perfect but also, if not more importantly, the ability to acknowledge a shortcoming in one's own work demonstrates a degree of scholarly maturity. Great article!
2. 11242283 - December 03, 2009 at 06:56 am
Perhaps the opposite of the "nuclear veto" is the "kiss of death". When I was on the market (quite a while ago) and interviewing at a top research I school, a very, very famous (and famously disagreeable) member of the faculty told me in our one on one meeting (every job candidate had to have one with this icon -- the only faculty member afforded such an audience)I was his top choice for the position. Ahh -- but in all my other meetings the other faculty told me (constantly) what a pain in the ass Dr. X was and how past his prime (despite still being very prominent in the field and still publishing good stuff) --- nothing I could do about this but it was clear that almost the entire faculty would (and did) mobilize to counter anything that Dr. X wanted. I may have lost the position for other real and justifiable reasons, but being the "wrong" person's favorite also did me in, big time. Years later I talked to a member of the faculty at a conference who remembered me and my interview and who confirmed that no one wanted to touch somebody that Dr. X was so in favor of. She apologized to me on behalf of her colleagues (since I've turned out ok) but it just goes to show how irrational the whole hiring process is. As someone who has been party to hiring many a person since that experience, I've really tried to concentrate on the candidate him/herself and filter out the extraneous stuff (if Y likes her, she'll be a disaster or the opposite, if my fried Z likes her, I'll decide to like her too).
3. mollie_f - December 03, 2009 at 09:52 am
As commenter #2 has pointed out, sometimes you can't avoid the "nuclear veto." I've worked with people who were on search committees or were in positions of authority who would simply make up things that the candidate had supposedly said or done in a one-on-one meeting. There were no witnesses, so the committee was put in the uncomfortable position of accepting the stories as true or challenging the veracity of a colleague. Since the reports came straight out of the blue, the rest of committee was caught flat-footed, with no sense of unity in opposition to the nuclear veto, which made an individual challenge very difficult indeed. Yes, eventually folks caught on and started working around the individual, but that required uncomfortable risks like going over the person's head to complain (and then the dean or chair was put in a difficult position). In short, the assumption that the poor candidate could do anything to avoid the problem seems overly optimistic.
4. drgrieves - December 03, 2009 at 11:44 am
We just had an attempted nuking--one member of our small department found the candidate "overbearing" and her/his manners not courtly but "dominating"--but the candidate is now one signature away from becoming a colleague. Unfortunately, the dissenting department member wrote via email that s/he will "keep an open mind," which means, of course, that the hazing will shortly begin.
5. davi2665 - December 03, 2009 at 02:05 pm
Great advice when interviewing and trying to function on a rational basis with a committee of reasonable and thoughtful faculty members. Unfortunately, there are "disruptive" professors just as there are "disruptive" physicians. They usually combine insufferable arrogance, an unwillingness to listen to anyone but themselves, condescending behavior, and a sense of perverse pleasure at disrupting the plans of others. Perhaps this appeals to their narcissistic desire to be the focus of attention, as everyone then tiptoes around the cantankerous professor. The best solution is for the chair or dean to avoid putting these disruptive morons on search committees. The poor candidates, no matter how accomplished and desirable, simply cannot win when one of these retreads focuses effort on destroying the candidacy.
6. vicden1 - December 07, 2009 at 10:14 am
One thing I have noted similarly, especially at the Community College, is that if you have more experience, education, or both in a specific area than your poetential supervisor, you should tread lightly. Depending on egos involved, you may cut yourself off at the knees if you go on and on about your prowess in that area.
The nuclear veto can also come from that person on the committee, who having read the applications has decided who they want or knows a candidate personally, and will not be persuaded to even consider anyone else. Even if their candidate turns out to be completely unqualified and unsuited for the position, that one committee member is bound and determined to have their pick
7. davidhacker - December 07, 2009 at 12:07 pm
All the above preparations are important. But if you are vaporized by a nuclear veto (not that you'll ever really know), the one small consolation is that such a unit would be an awful place to end up at. If such people are able to (1) get on committees in the first place and (2) bully spineless colleagues into going along with them in a perverted search for "consensus", then the place is probably dysfunctional and run by bullies everywhere. I've been involved in some tough hiring decisions and split votes, but never one that recognized any one person - no matter how senior - as having a veto.
Of course, a job is better than no job, but it's one consolation.
8. amnirov - December 07, 2009 at 12:52 pm
I'm on a department personnel and budget committee, and I'm constantly baffled by the otherwise good candidates who do something idiotic in an interview immediately scuppering their chances. The market is so competitive that a college can afford to exclude a candidate who says like every third word.
9. fulmerjk - December 10, 2009 at 03:19 pm
Both the column and the subsequent comments have been enlightening and well-spoken. I have a question for the very experienced commenters here.
I have been "on the market" a while now, and I, my mentors, and friends have been somewhat mystified by my lack of entry to a tenure-track position. I am well-published for a junior colleague, have won teaching awards in my part-time position, and my CV has received numerous compliments from senior faculty across a range of institutions, including two Ivy League schools. I seem to network well, and as I said, do have mentors who have been advising me all along.
However, within months of my graduation a family tragedy prevented me from applying to colleges outside of my time zone. I have heard over the last year that because I did not move immediately away from my family and did not take more advantage of distant openings, in addition to the increasing time since my graduation, my future job prospects will only erode further.
Is this true? Should I seek other forms of employment, despite my consistent rate of publication and presentation? I have a wonderful publisher for my second book and am hoping a second, more widely-publicized book may improve my odds.
I have already taken the advice mentioned here to carefully address my CV's "weakness," i.e., my initial geographical limitations, up front during this hiring cycle. I made first cut at one college at which I would certainly be happy and honored to work (if I continue to make the cut, that is), but few other responses yet.
I do not know what to make of the mixed signals I have received while working in an adjunct position and continually re-applying every year. A younger colleague who was picked up soon after graduating thinks he was a popular choice because committees could "project" what they wanted onto his "blank slate" of a CV, and that the more I accomplish, the less committees can see what they want in me.
Will my odds of being selected for a tenure-track position continue to worsen, even as my publishing continues? Or is there any hope? I am equally passionate about college teaching and my research. The only elements missing are job stability and an office, which a tenure-track job would certainly improve upon.
Any advice? Thank you for all your great comments above.