Why We Shouldn’t Shrink Our PhD Programs

Every so often—especially on Twitter—academic philosophers call to reduce the size of philosophy PhD programs. The reasoning is usually altruistic, if also a bit paternalistic. “There are so many PhDs produced every year, and so few academic jobs in philosophy, that it is wrong for us to produce PhDs knowing that most will not get jobs in academia,” they say. I disagree with this argument.

Lurking just under the surface is a questionable assumption: that the sole purpose of pursuing a PhD in philosophy is an academic job. Its perhaps just a bit ironic that a field defined by the phrase “the unexamined life is not worth living” should take such a narrowly remunerative view of itself. Isn’t a philosophy degree valuable in and of itself?

Of course, we shouldn’t just leave it at that. A philosophy PhD is intrinsically valuable, but it getting it comes with substantial financial and psychic cost. But even if we assume that PhD programs should be only evaluated as job training, PhDs do provide many important job skills. It is not immediately obvious that the job calculus would weigh against getting a philosophy PhD.

I think there is a more fundamental issue here: Why should we, the professoriate, decide on behalf of a student? Shouldn’t the choice of whether the benefits outweigh the costs be left to the person bearing those costs? Why should we force our view of the tradeoff onto anonymous students who we will never meet. Just because we think that a PhD isn’t worth the work given the current job market doesn’t mean someone else is irrational for feeling differently.

I went to graduate school in 2002 well informed of the dire state of the job market immediately following the burst of the first internet bubble. At Kansas State, my undergraduate advisors were honest and frank. To their credit, they made absolutely sure I knew what I was getting into. I did, and I was okay with it. I had contingency plans. I was taking a calculated risk, something that a budding decision theorist was in a good position to do.

We all must do what my professors did for me: We must be honest about the risks. Some programs hide, don’t keep, or play games with their own academic placement records so as to allow students to deceive themselves about their chances of an academic job. Such behavior is unconscionable.

For myself, I cannot say whether I would have regretted my decision had I found employment outside academia. Evaluating this kind of counterfactual is notoriously difficult. In the actual world, I’m overjoyed that no one shut the door in my face saying, “Sorry, bud, we’re full.”

This is exactly what would have happened if the push to shrink departments had won the day. I wasn’t admitted to the big, famous, “highly ranked” programs. I was admitted to what was at the time a young up-start department at UC Irvine.  I was only the second group of graduate students admitted to the Department of Logic and Philosophy of Science, and going there presented its own kind of risk. Given that I didn’t have a lot of other options, I took it. And I am so glad I did.

While I was a graduate student, visiting faculty would occasionally ask (usually after one too many drinks) why Irvine had decided to start a brand new PhD program “now.”  The implication was clear: “Don’t we already have too many programs. Does the world need another? Especially one as narrow as LPS?” If Irvine had heeded the call to reduce, I would probably not be here.

The sting of this possibility motivates me, but it need not sway you. Anecdotes don’t provide very good data. I think, however, that within my story is something generalizable. Irvine’s LPS department has quickly ascended to be one of the best places for mathematical and scientific philosophy. They created an innovative program that took off, and few would seriously suggest that they shut it down now.

This is no coincidence. They innovated because they had little to lose. They didn’t have a long history of academic placement or a golden reputation to preserve. Without fear of loss, they could try something new. It worked!

If we centralize training in fewer departments, we will become far more homogeneous, just at a time when philosophy is thankfully returning to its broad interdisciplinary past. If we ask those small, new, or unproven programs to restrain themselves for the good of someone else’s students, we risk preventing those very innovations that may serve to transform our discipline.

Not only would programs become more alike, but so too would our students. With ever fewer slots, those with good pedigrees, who went to the right undergraduate programs and wowed the right people will still find a place in PhD programs. But with fewer programs, there will be less opportunity for those who started “outside” the system to find a way in. Whether that’s because they went to a local community college, struggled to adapt after high school, or came to philosophy from another discipline, reducing the number of PhD students will disproportionately exclude already marginalized people.

This worry makes me especially concerned about the paternalistic nature of calls to reduce. If the cost of a paternalistic policy principally fell on those who were already privileged, perhaps I would be less skeptical. But when one frustrates the aims of those who are already disadvantaged, I think we should be careful when saying it’s “for your own good.” The history of this kind of paternalism is, to put it mildly, not good.

Beyond all of this lies an existential danger for philosophy. Economists often talk about the “Lump of Labor” fallacy, where one assumes that the number of jobs is independent of the number of job seekers.  Most of us readily see the fallacy when discussing the economic benefits of immigration: Immigrants don’t take jobs from citizens; they create new jobs through their economic activity.

This fallacy is relevant because my interlocutors presume that reducing the number of PhDs will reduce the gap between the number jobs and job seekers. This ignores the other effects of their preferred intervention. If a department scuttles its PhD program, a dean or provost might use that as an opportunity to shrink the department. In so doing, there will be fewer jobs. It is a very real possibility that the solution may exacerbate the very problem it was designed to solve.

The lack of academic jobs is a serious issue, and we should tackle it. But, my preferred intervention is to reconceive the value of a philosophy PhD. With very little effort, we can make our degree valuable to employers outside academia. And then we will be able say to a potential PhD applicant, “You may get a job in academia. But if not, don’t worry. We’ve given you joy and skills that will serve you well.”

Kevin Zollman

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Kevin Zollman is a professor of philosophy and social and decision sciences at Carnegie Mellon University. His research focuses on the use of mathematical and simulation models in the social sciences and biology. Along with Paul Raeburn, he is the author of The Game Theorist’s Guide to Parenting. On Twitter, he is @KevinZollman.