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[whiteknight]

In a recent blog post at Tenured Radical (http://tenured-radical.blogspot.com/2009/07/more-annals-of-great-depression-whither.html), Claire Potter offered an interesting critique of conference interviews, and suggested substituting telephone interviews as an alternative. While that may be necessary as an economic expedient for the moment, I wonder whether it is really the best long-term solution. Yes, conference interviews can be a miserable and emotionally draining experience for all involved, but would the alternative really work for the large pool of applicants coming onto the market each year? I suspect not.

Potter’s article is built on a faulty premise, that the conference interview is merely a holdover from the bad old days of the “boy’s club” in the discipline. Judging from my reading of the correspondence of senior historians of the 1920s to the 1940s, and interviews with historians hired in the 50s and 60s, hiring back then was based on little more than a phone call or a letter from some senior member of the profession. The present system was established in the 1960s as a way of making the hiring process more open to women, minorities, and students from less prestigious universities. By allowing a much larger number of applicants to get into the mix of candidates considered for every opening, I think the system has been quite successful in making the job search process more accessible and egalitarian than it had been.

The obvious, if nonquantifiable, benefits offered by conference interviews far outweigh the economies that search committees and candidates can secure through telephone interviews. For search committees, the meeting interview provides a unique opportunity to actually meet with a much larger number of candidates. The average search committee at the AHA Job Center interviews 11 candidates. Under a system where all the preliminary interviews are made by phone, I doubt that search committee members would—or can—schedule more than half that number of interviews into the day-to-day routines of their lives on campus. Departments are more likely to make a much smaller first cut, and in the process would be more likely to base their selections on the old traditional categories—the applicant’s adviser and school.

We have seen evidence of this happening already. Over the past few years a growing number of elite schools are moving in this direction. As the alignment between new PhDs and jobs approached parity in some fields, and the competition for the “best candidates” heated up, a number of the elite schools have been using phone interviews to lock in their choices before the AHA meeting. Everything I have heard about these searches reinforces my concerns, as fewer candidates got their foot in the door, and those that did were from a narrower strata of elite departments.

The cost calculation for applicants is not as simple as Potter’s analysis suggests either. Job seekers who come to the meeting usually get between three and five interviews, and can attend the interviewing workshop. They can also network with other historians throughout the course of the meeting. And given the larger number of interviews per applicant at the meeting, it also increases an applicant’s odds of meeting with a larger number of search committees. If I am correct in assuming that shifting to phone interviews would cut the number of people getting preliminary interviews, this proposal would just mean larger numbers of rejection letters before the first interview. That hardly seems less degrading and impersonal than the conference interview.

While I continue to think that conference interviews remain the best and most democratic system for making the first cut in academic job searches, the AHA is always looking for ways to make the system work better. Over the past decade we have made the whole process more humane—just ask anyone who remembers when all the tables were in a large open room, and interviews were scheduled through “two-way” paper forms. Along those lines, Potter (drawing on an earlier article from David Evans that no longer seems to be available) pushes another idea that I find quite intriguing and potentially helpful. Would it make sense for the AHA to establish an online vita bank for history—effectively a central clearinghouse for c.v.’s, letters of recommendation, teaching portfolios, and the like? I can see how that could greatly simplify the application process for candidates and applicants alike, though there are some obvious technical and privacy issues (setting it up would not be cheap, and keeping letters of recommendation confidential could be a problem).

http://www.historians.org/Perspectives/issues/2009/0910/0910pro1.cfm?Refby=FN

[pinkmouse]

The MLA (like the AHA) runs on these conferences, so of course the umbrella organization has a vested interest in keeping them going. But I'm not convinced it's the "most democratic" - you're limiting candidacy to those who can afford to attend the conference. Many people can't afford to go to the conference, but it's safe to assume that any candidate will have access to a phone.
In lit fields where hires are often made of candidates from overseas (native speakers), the conference interview is even more redundant. Do I really expect someone to fly from Barcelona for a conference interview at the MLA? It's incredibly provincial to assume all the good candidates are in North America, and arrogant to expect those from other countries to fly in at their own expense for a first-round screening interview.

[whiteknight]

I covered the 2007 and 2008 AHAs in informal, sarcastic reports here:

http://chronicle.com/forums/index.php/topic,32777.msg

http://chronicle.com/forums/index.php/topic,45433.0.html

I didn't like being forced to pay to go to the AHA year after year for the "chance" of interviewing. I understand how important it is to be engaged with current scholarship and to network, but I would rather go to the smaller conferences in my fields than the AHA, which was a waste of time and money most of the years that I went. I don't plan on going back unless I have to for a job, I am *really* interested in buying some books, or it's in a place that I want to visit.

[d_f_b]

I'm not in an AHA field, but if mine (in the social sciences) does hiring at all similarly, one of the OP's speculations is wrong. The OP said that the average search committee at the AHA interviews 11 candidates, while the OP can't imagine that a search committee would hold phone interviews for half that number.

In fact, the search committees I've been on have held phone interviews with 12 to 20 candidates. The OP's mistake may have been to think that search committees hold phone interviews all on a single day (in which case, yeah, 5 or 6 would be a heavy day, 8 perhaps an absolute maximum), but in my experience they've been spread out over three days give or take one.

[t_r_b]

In fact, the search committees I've been on have held phone interviews with 12 to 20 candidates. The OP's mistake may have been to think that search committees hold phone interviews all on a single day (in which case, yeah, 5 or 6 would be a heavy day, 8 perhaps an absolute maximum), but in my experience they've been spread out over three days give or take one.

Agreed. Townsend's assumptions are entirely wrong here: so much so that his post is an embarrassment to his employer (the AHA).

In my view, conducting preliminary interviews by phone rather than at a conference enables us to talk to at least as many candidates, while saving us a big pile of money that can then be used to bring an extra candidate to campus, if desired.

From chatting with my colleagues, I have gotten the impression that they favor conference interviews primarily because doing so gives them an all-expenses-paid trip to the conference city. Yeah, that's a good use of our increasingly limited funds.

If my school could afford to do interviews in a private hotel suite, rather than in "the pit," I could get behind the "more humane interview setting" argument. But the pit is simply monstrous.

[oatmeal]

I doubt whether the history profession will dispense with AHA interviews. Other major associations have not. It is not a pleasant experience for anyone and I wish there was an alternative. But there is not. Phone interviews can have many problems and I for one, prefer to see the person I am interviewing or who is interviewing me. Maybe the system will change but I am doubtful.

[jacaranda_]

Why hasn't technology made some of this easier?  How hard is it to set up a skype connection?  In fact, I think I once ranted about this last year.  I may even have put in an indirect plea with the Chronicle columnists to tell us all how to do it.

It's ridiculous that any grad student has to make that kind of gamble about a major conference and the possibility of a job.

[t_r_b]

I just read the original "Tenured Radical" piece, and (not surprisingly) agree with much of it, but I am skeptical of the one area where she and Townsend seem to agree. From Townsend's piece:

Would it make sense for the AHA to establish an online vita bank for history—effectively a central clearinghouse for c.v.’s, letters of recommendation, teaching portfolios, and the like? I can see how that could greatly simplify the application process for candidates and applicants alike, though there are some obvious technical and privacy issues (setting it up would not be cheap, and keeping letters of recommendation confidential could be a problem).

My primary objection to this model is that it suggests that a given candidate's applications to different schools are all boilerplate: that all a SC needs to distinguish between candidates is the same CV, teaching portfolio, etc. that every SC will see. But as an SC member, I am especially interested to see how candidates see themselves fitting into our department, and serving our student population. Applicants that send us the same letter they sent for the job at Princeton go straight to the circular file. As a candidate, I always take pains to tailor my cover letter to address why I would be a good fit for a given job. Each job is different, just as each department's needs are different.

I also object to the assumption that all applicants for tenure-track jobs are interested in applying for all available jobs, and making their materials available to all interested search committees. Certainly, many applicants do apply for all jobs for which they are qualified (and some apply to many more jobs than that) and would be glad to have their CVs openly posted. But many of us already have jobs of one sort or another. We may be interested in applying only to jobs that would constitute an "upgrade" (and people's definitions of "upgrade" will vary widely). We may be interested in applying only to our individual, idiosyncratic "dream job." And many of us would prefer not publicizing the fact that we are on the market (hence my objections to the occasional proposal that names of interviewees be publicized, which I think would serve no other purpose than giving rejected applicants something to gossip about on the wikis).

The online vita bank idea could be very useful for filling temporary and part-time jobs (i.e., searches that won't be publicized nationally) so that departments could quickly identify potential applicants when a last-minute vacancy arises. But for TT jobs, I am a fan of the current system, with job ads getting publicly posted, and individual applicants responding with individual applications.

Now, the current system could certainly be improved, most notably by SCs accepting applications electronically. And perhaps the AHA (or, better yet, the Chronicle) could give Interfolio a run for its money by enabling applicants to create online portfolios (including measures to protect the confidentiality of LORs) that would facilitate the delivery of electronic applications. These measures would save applicants lots of money and time without turning the hiring process into an electronic cattle call.

[scampster]

What is this monstrous pit of which you speak, t_r_b?

Scampster, a curious non-historian

[onion]

What is this monstrous pit of which you speak, t_r_b?

Scampster, a curious non-historian

The "pit", aka the "pen", the "bull pen", the "7th circle of hell" (historians, feel free to add other aliases) is set up in the largest ballroom in the conference hotel.  It is divided into small, cubicle-like spaces with a table in each, and separated by crepe-y feeling curtains, usually in a dark color.  It is in these spaces that AHA conference interviews take place.  You have to sit in a bank of chairs with other nervous job seekers, half of whom are chewing on their ties or some other form of nervous and/or disordered behavior.  When the school with which you are interviewing sends out the SC member to fetch you, everyone sits up and looks eager, like dogs at the animal shelter.  When the SC member says your name, you turn beet red, panic, and drop either your brief case or the folder that holds your teaching portfolio.  Then you follow this person about a mile and a half, twisting and turning through the labyrinth that is the "pit."  You eventually reach their little interviewing space, and sit down in a creaky card table chair, and immediately realize that you can see the shoes of the people on the other side of the curtain.  Then you realize you can also hear them.  Then you tell yourself "stop listening to that other interview and answer the questions they are asking you."  Then you hear the person in the next cell burst into tears in the middle of their interview, blubber that they are sorry but the stress of being an adjunct for the last 3 years is really getting to them and they just really need a job this year.  Then you hear the interviewer tell them that it's ok, to calm down, they'll keep going and this rupture won't hurt their chances in the least, and you know they are lying.  All while you are trying to explain how you would teach the US history survey differently than anyone else ever has, even though you will have bored and lazy students and no better technology than a white board.  You hear yourself say yes, even though I am a US historian, I can teach the first half of Western Civ, no problem.  You claim to enjoy teaching historiography to sophomores, and that you would be happy to advise 100 students a semester, twice a semester.  No problem.  You express "heartfelt" enthusiasm for a 4/5 teaching load, and assure them that 2 books for tenure will not be a problem, even though their state has, for some inexplicable reason, a 5 year tenure clock instead of 7.  The whole experience lasts all of 15 minutes, but feels like a month.  Then you wend your way out of the pit, and as you pass through the waiting area to get back out to the hotel lobby for a drink, you see the department you just interviewed with, or interviewed with earlier in the day, or the day before, calling out the name of your grad school nemesis, and your heart sinks, and then you go pay $8 for a Bud Light and try not to cry in public while wearing your name tag.

This is the AHA.

[t_r_b]

What is this monstrous pit of which you speak, t_r_b?

Scampster, a curious non-historian

The "pit", aka the "pen", the "bull pen", the "7th circle of hell" (historians, feel free to add other aliases) is set up in the largest ballroom in the conference hotel.  It is divided into small, cubicle-like spaces with a table in each, and separated by crepe-y feeling curtains, usually in a dark color.  It is in these spaces that AHA conference interviews take place.  You have to sit in a bank of chairs with other nervous job seekers, half of whom are chewing on their ties or some other form of nervous and/or disordered behavior.  When the school with which you are interviewing sends out the SC member to fetch you, everyone sits up and looks eager, like dogs at the animal shelter.  When the SC member says your name, you turn beet red, panic, and drop either your brief case or the folder that holds your teaching portfolio.  Then you follow this person about a mile and a half, twisting and turning through the labyrinth that is the "pit."  You eventually reach their little interviewing space, and sit down in a creaky card table chair, and immediately realize that you can see the shoes of the people on the other side of the curtain.  Then you realize you can also hear them.  Then you tell yourself "stop listening to that other interview and answer the questions they are asking you."  Then you hear the person in the next cell burst into tears in the middle of their interview, blubber that they are sorry but the stress of being an adjunct for the last 3 years is really getting to them and they just really need a job this year.  Then you hear the interviewer tell them that it's ok, to calm down, they'll keep going and this rupture won't hurt their chances in the least, and you know they are lying.  All while you are trying to explain how you would teach the US history survey differently than anyone else ever has, even though you will have bored and lazy students and no better technology than a white board.  You hear yourself say yes, even though I am a US historian, I can teach the first half of Western Civ, no problem.  You claim to enjoy teaching historiography to sophomores, and that you would be happy to advise 100 students a semester, twice a semester.  No problem.  You express "heartfelt" enthusiasm for a 4/5 teaching load, and assure them that 2 books for tenure will not be a problem, even though their state has, for some inexplicable reason, a 5 year tenure clock instead of 7.  The whole experience lasts all of 15 minutes, but feels like a month.  Then you wend your way out of the pit, and as you pass through the waiting area to get back out to the hotel lobby for a drink, you see the department you just interviewed with, or interviewed with earlier in the day, or the day before, calling out the name of your grad school nemesis, and your heart sinks, and then you go pay $8 for a Bud Light and try not to cry in public while wearing your name tag.

This is the AHA.

HOF.

But it's all worth it for that priceless face-to-face connection, don't you think?

[concordancia]

Yours get divided into cubicles??!!

We just get the tables. No divisions whatsoever. Do you greet the person you just interviewed with a couple of hours ago as you leave the next table over or not? Turns out one year my best interview and my worst interview were table neighbors. Obviously, neither said anything to sway the other, as I got a campus visit from one and a big nothing from the other.

And no one comes to get you. You try to be polite and figure out if the table you need is currently interviewing, but it is hard to tell from the edge of the ballroom what number the table in the middle has.

[wegie]

What is this monstrous pit of which you speak, t_r_b?

Scampster, a curious non-historian

The "pit", aka the "pen", the "bull pen", the "7th circle of hell" (historians, feel free to add other aliases) is set up in the largest ballroom in the conference hotel.  It is divided into small, cubicle-like spaces with a table in each, and separated by crepe-y feeling curtains, usually in a dark color.  It is in these spaces that AHA conference interviews take place.  You have to sit in a bank of chairs with other nervous job seekers, half of whom are chewing on their ties or some other form of nervous and/or disordered behavior.  When the school with which you are interviewing sends out the SC member to fetch you, everyone sits up and looks eager, like dogs at the animal shelter.  When the SC member says your name, you turn beet red, panic, and drop either your brief case or the folder that holds your teaching portfolio.  Then you follow this person about a mile and a half, twisting and turning through the labyrinth that is the "pit."  You eventually reach their little interviewing space, and sit down in a creaky card table chair, and immediately realize that you can see the shoes of the people on the other side of the curtain.  Then you realize you can also hear them.  Then you tell yourself "stop listening to that other interview and answer the questions they are asking you."  Then you hear the person in the next cell burst into tears in the middle of their interview, blubber that they are sorry but the stress of being an adjunct for the last 3 years is really getting to them and they just really need a job this year.  Then you hear the interviewer tell them that it's ok, to calm down, they'll keep going and this rupture won't hurt their chances in the least, and you know they are lying.  All while you are trying to explain how you would teach the US history survey differently than anyone else ever has, even though you will have bored and lazy students and no better technology than a white board.  You hear yourself say yes, even though I am a US historian, I can teach the first half of Western Civ, no problem.  You claim to enjoy teaching historiography to sophomores, and that you would be happy to advise 100 students a semester, twice a semester.  No problem.  You express "heartfelt" enthusiasm for a 4/5 teaching load, and assure them that 2 books for tenure will not be a problem, even though their state has, for some inexplicable reason, a 5 year tenure clock instead of 7.  The whole experience lasts all of 15 minutes, but feels like a month.  Then you wend your way out of the pit, and as you pass through the waiting area to get back out to the hotel lobby for a drink, you see the department you just interviewed with, or interviewed with earlier in the day, or the day before, calling out the name of your grad school nemesis, and your heart sinks, and then you go pay $8 for a Bud Light and try not to cry in public while wearing your name tag.

This is the AHA.

HOF.

Bugger. You beat me to it!

But it's all worth it for that priceless face-to-face connection, don't you think?

<bangs head against wall and goes in search of booze>

[onion]

But it's all worth it for that priceless face-to-face connection, don't you think?

Absolutely.  And I cherish the approximately $10,000 worth of credit card debt (which hangs like a millstone around my neck) for the 5 AHAs I had to travel across the country to attend.

[elsie]

The MLA version: http://www.9interviews.com/ or "What Not to Do at Conference Interviews".