Ms. Mentor

Stuck in Second Place

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Question: Because of political factions in my department, it looks like I'll never be promoted to full professor. I've published more than most of the full professors, I've been an officer in national organizations, and I'm a nationally recognized expert in my field. CNN even calls me for comments.

Yet it seems I'm mired in the muck, forever, as a tenured associate prof.

I can't move to another job, even if one were offered. And so I find myself fuming in department meetings, gnashing my teeth at night, and accumulating stress symptoms, such as high blood pressure. All this makes it harder for me to write my next book, too.

What should I do?

Answer: Ms. Mentor agrees that the road from associate to full professor should be a wide and clear path. But for some academics, it is more like a swamp with mosquitoes, strange cawings, and things that fester.

Few universities provide a timeline or a road map for what it takes to get to the top.

What, really, is "outstanding performance?" What is "distinguished achievement?"

Perhaps you've produced super papers, won prizes, and dazzled students with your pedagogy. And yet "Amos" -- a so-so researcher and teacher who plays tennis with the powerful professors in the dominant faction -- got promoted to full, and you didn't.

Could it be -- oh, dear -- that the academic world is not truly objective?

Of course there are those who do zoom up the ladder, but others ... well, if they are wise, they write to Ms. Mentor, who will remind them about their colleagues, and about themselves. To wit:

Academics are people who have been successes in school. They've followed a linear model of upward striving. They've aced tests, graced the honor roll, filled up the dean's lists. They've survived the graduate-school rite of passage, landed a job, and triumphed to tenure. Always, they've moved up to the next level.

Some do plateau for a while after tenure ("Is this all there is?"). Some finally opt for a balanced personal life. They marry, divorce, come out, have children, or devote themselves to elder care. Some really daring ones buy boats, take trombone lessons, or even develop hobbies.

Of course, they do risk being gossiped about in the halls and called "senior juniors." If they buy new cars, especially red ones, everyone knows they're having midlife crises.

Still, the academic culture gnaws at them -- and you. You're laggards, you've derailed yourselves. You must push onward and upward to the last stop, to the Mount Everest world of full professordom.

But, Ms. Mentor asks, do you need to reach that pinnacle now? And what will it take to do so?

If your feuding colleagues are slouching toward retirement, you may only need to lie in wait. But if you're in a hurry, you may have to take your colleagues to lunch, and smile at what strikes you as inane or absurd. You may have to enlist as a foot soldier in a powerful faction trying to make tiny changes in the curriculum. You may have to serve on endless gnat-picking committees, to demonstrate your diligence.

Ms. Mentor does not recommend the strategy adopted by "Patsy," a legendary figure in a small humanities department in the Midwest, who decided to sleep with (or at least put the moves on) every one of her male colleagues. Ms. Mentor, who has a very intense imagination, shudders.

Rather, she asks you to consider what you will get if you are promoted to full professor. Besides knowing that you have reached the pinnacle, what else is there?

• Will you get an enormous raise? At most universities nowadays, No. For some, the raise is about $1,000 a year -- or less than half of what you'd earn by teaching one extra course.

• Will you get glory and honor in your field? Probably not. If you're well-known nationally, most people probably think you've been a full professor for years. When they find out you're not, they'll assume you're a bad teacher or a vicious colleague.

• Will you get perks, such as a better teaching schedule or newer equipment or a better parking space? Probably not.

• Will you get more respect from your hostile colleagues? Not a chance.

On the other hand, what if you remain a department pariah?

You may find that people forget about you for committee assignments, and so you spend less time wrangling over trivia. You will have blocks of time for writing, thinking, and research, especially if you can do it away from campus. You will have much more energy for teaching and mentoring students. Teaching is the only part of your job that can give you immediate gratification. It can give you joy.

If you opt out of climbing the ladder, you will not be giving your time and energy to unworthy causes. You won't be sacrificing your health, nor tormenting your friends with your anger and pain.

Since September 11, thousands of Americans have wept and grieved and brooded about what they really want to do with their lives. Many realize they do not want to sacrifice their souls to be rewarded by people they do not respect.

And so, Ms. Mentor gives you permission to give up the futile, soul-crushing effort to be respected by bozos.

If the ladder isn't going to a loft where you want to be, stay on the ground. And whip up a soufflé, cook up a mess of greens, gather up your friends, walk in the sun, and drink in the rain.

Question: Because our university president is vertically challenged, the microphone at public gatherings is always adjusted for him. Everyone else must bow their heads to use it. Is this silly little power ritual an example of no one's head being allowed higher than the king's?

Answer: Yes.

SAGE READERS: Ms. Mentor thanks those of you who have submitted thoughtful, clever, and piercing insights about academic fashions. Nearly half of her correspondents now tell her how tall they are. Some include height in heels versus height when barefootin'.

Ms. Mentor will have more to say about academic sex, height, fashion, mores, and the like in future columns, perhaps when, or if, the national mood is less somber. As always, she invites communications from all, but rarely answers letters personally. She will not do your research for you, nor repeat what other columnists on this site have already discussed ("How do I switch from business to academia?").

Nor will she tell you when or whom to marry, or when to come out or whether to buy extra health insurance. It is still a good idea not to run with your hands in your pockets.

Although Ms. Mentor's spirits are shaken, her ivory tower is intact, and she is more insistent than ever about education, teaching, intelligence, creativity, and caring for the hearts and minds of our fellow creatures.