Not Your Father's Ph.D.

By Brandon G. Withrow

My Facebook profile identifies me as male, married, 35, and Christian, and as someone who has lived in Toledo, Chicago, Philadelphia, and Birmingham.

I am not necessarily young enough to enjoy MySpace and its myriad high-school students, but I have an account there, too. I also text-message, though not as fluently as a 16-year-old. And I have a Second Life avatar for getting together with long-lost friends from master's programs past. But I do not have a virtual apartment or a virtual job (which is too bad, considering my real-life status at the moment). I have written about colonial American culture and other topics on my blog as well.

In other words, I am not your father's Ph.D.

As a new Ph.D. in religious studies, I have every reason to believe I will find a tenure-track job. I have read the numbers and know that, on average, job candidates spend two to five years in temporary positions before finding their first stable one. I have teaching experience in my field, a growing publication record, and I'm applying for positions. But recently I had my first reality check, in the form of disappointing application returns. My many hours of hard work have, so far, yielded nothing more than scattered adjunct gigs.

That reality has left me with a burning curiosity: Could my abundance of virtual-life opportunities be damaging my real-life ones?

I have read many articles on the subject, hoping to find out. One said that the first thing a search committee does is Google a job candidate's name. When the committee members see you are a blogger, it becomes a strike against you. The same author suggested I avoid blogging, avoid engaging the public arena online, and avoid doing what comes naturally to my generation. Another essay confirmed the first: Blogging is a hazard to a budding academic career. Only one article, to date, has viewed blogging as an opportunity to demonstrate skills often lacking in older faculty members.

I have a site meter on my blog, so I know when my name has been Googled by Somecollege.edu. I see the pages you visit and know where you stopped. (I also know what operating system you are using and your longitude and latitude.) So I am watching you, too.

The haunting question for me, however, comes shortly after I see Somecollege.edu look over my blog, when a thin letter shows up in the mail: Did I do that to myself?

Possibly. But I have always made it a policy to avoid writing negatively online about communities to which I belong. I speak honestly, but never slanderously. Most of the time, I write about life, religion, publishing, and books. Despite my careful approach, I often wonder if I am delaying my first full-time position by virtue of my virtual life. I even considered taking my blog down on several occasions, but then one day I decided it was here to stay. The day I stop blogging is the day I no longer enjoy it -- not the day I fear I have been "found out."

I have some good reasons for that.

When a graduate school hired me as an adjunct to teach an online course, it said one of the factors in my favor was my blogging experience. The use of technology for student-faculty communication becomes more important with each new matriculating class. When I meet faculty members from other institutions who can read Akkadian but refuse to learn how to use e-mail (let alone text-messaging) to communicate with students, I know there is a need for serious scholars with virtual skills.

There are, therefore, some things to consider for both the young blogging scholar and the distinguished senior faculty member. To the former, I would offer the following three simple rules: (While they may fit the "goes without saying" category, they still seem to be lost on some bloggers.)

• Keep it clean. Do not post every negative thing you can think of about your department. Do not expect life online to be without consequences when you write with ire. Most institutions value academic freedom, but they also look for collegiality. If you cannot speak responsibly online, what will you say in faculty meetings, to students or prospective ones, or at donor dinners?

• Keep it useful. If you have publications or are participating in important research, view your blog as an opportunity to share what you are doing with those wary Googling search-committee members. Use your blog to interact (tastefully) with students and other scholars in your field. Note articles you have read or published in journals. Give people a reason to see you as a faculty member rather than a student.

• Keep it honest. Strike a balance to keep yourself from going overboard on the first two points. After all, no one likes a kiss-up. Express your love for academic freedom by exploring your ideas online. Every interesting blogger has good sparring partners who visit regularly. Make that an opportunity to learn from others and grow as a thinker. Let your passion and your belief in public discourse show.

To the senior professors and members of search committees, I offer three points that are crucial to understanding the next generation of scholars:

• Be realistic. If the iPhone has demonstrated anything, it is that those old communicators on the original Star Trek are really outdated. The world of carrier pigeons, telegrams, facsimiles, and even dial-up Internet access is gone. Many families have said goodbye to the land line and strictly use cell phones. E-mail is finding competition from text-messaging. Wherever there is a cafe, one is sure to find wireless Internet access. So when a search committee sees that a candidate has a blog or a space online anywhere, it should not be a surprise.

• Be relevant. Rather than try to beat our brave new world, join it. To the faculty member who barely knows how to use e-mail or repeatedly types URLs into the Google search box instead of the address bar, recognize that you aren't helping your students. They know that you have some crazy level of intelligence, but they want to connect with you. Show them someone who understands them, or at least wants to. Not really into MySpace? Try Facebook. Still too young for your tastes? Would you rather talk about Iraq and FISA? Try Gather.com. If you need a carrot dangled in front of you, consider this: Embracing technology connects you not only to your students, but also to a world of better research through time-saving and exhaustive online databases.

• Be reasonable. When you read a candidate's blog, do not hope to look into a mirror. If you believe in academic freedom, then expect it. The world is a better place when we aren't easily offended by the opinions of others. Without a doubt, if a candidate is using a blog to publish hate speech or pornographic materials, consider that a warning sign. Otherwise, remember that as scholars, we are all constantly pursuing new ideas, and that the opinions you read on a candidate's blog may not be his or her final position on an issue.

Our ability to work, live, and remain assets to our institutions requires all of us -- students, candidates, and senior scholars -- to embrace the inevitable. Blogging, then, will remain a part of my life. See you at my site meter.