I’m heading for the seat of power! In a manner of speaking, anyway. In a couple of weeks I’m getting on a plane, becoming a North Island dweller once more and moving up to Wellington, the capital of New Zealand. I’m going to be working on a project for my employer (I won’t bore you with the details of that here).

Ruth and the kids aren’t coming with me. We didn’t want to move the family – not initially at least, because of the potentially temporary nature of the work and because we’re really not sure how long it will last, but it’s going to last a while – at least until late this year (maybe October or later). There’s even a chance it may be extended further – perhaps until sometime next year, but we don’t know anything that far in advance yet. If we reach the end of the school year here in Dunedin and the role is extended, then it’s likely we’ll all move up to Wellington and begin a new era in our family’s history. As far as my (non-academic) career is concerned, Wellington will be a good thing and may lead to great opportunities in the future.

So from May the 14^th I will be living like a monk for a while! Actually that’s not quite true, I will be back every now and then. My employer will be flying me back to Dunedin once a month, and we’ll be trying to live frugally so that I can afford to fly back once a month in addition to this (flights still aren’t nearly as cheap as I’d like them to be, and although I’ll be different work, as it’s a secondment my official job description doesn’t change), so twice a month (or at least thrice every two months, depending on what we can manage) I’ll have my family back. I’ll have a phone-and-Skype marriage for the rest of the time! While the move as a whole will be worthwhile and even a little exciting, this is that part that will undoubtedly be hardest.

But while I’m in Wellington I’ll be living like a monk. I’ll be focused on a few things: Work (of course), writing (so the blog output might actually increase while I’m away – I won’t be able to take many books up, so when I can I’ll invest a tablet), and working out (I’ll be going to the gym as much as I can). Wellington is a University city (although not as much so as Dunedin), so I’ll also be on the lookout for opportunities to speak to student groups, but I really don’t know what the “scene” is like up there.

Do I have any readers/listeners in Wellington? If so, drop me a line!

Glenn Peoples

I’ve never been coy about the fact that I’m looking for academic work. Through the blog, the podcast, publications and public speaking I’m trying to raise my profile in the hopes that all these things will help me to make that contact, get the right person to notice, land that job, get that title, improve finances, and set me off on a rewarding career. Of course I wouldn’t shun any of those things. I’m not stupid. But I’m not just an academic and a Christian. I’m a Christian academic. That doesn’t mean that the only subjects that interest me are overtly about God (although given that my subjects of interest are philosophy and theology that is certainly a common theme in the subjects that do interest me). It means that I do academia as a Christian. My goals and my attitudes need to be continually shaped into goals and attitudes that are not just compatible with a Christian outlook, but which are an integral part of it.

One of the things that this means is that it’s not about me. What if I could pass on knowledge, stimulate interest in the greatest questions life offers, questions about right and wrong or what’s really real, challenge people to engage the world in a more reflective and just way, present a Christian worldview as credible to critically minded people, address objections to the Christian faith, and achieve all the ends that I set out to achieve that benefit other people without benefiting myself in terms of my profile, job, status, position in life or financial wellbeing? Would it be worth it? Would I still do it? Facing real world concerns, frustrations, disappointments, disenchantments and ambitions, it has often been easy for me to lose sight of the right answer to that question. Of course it would be worth it, and I’ve got to work on not measuring the worth of an endeavour in terms of me. It’s not about me – it was never supposed to be. Think about all those goals: passing on, stimulating, challenging, presenting, addressing. Those goals are all about doing things for others, getting a job done. If I can speak in terms of having a “calling,” those things (as far as I can tell) are my calling. Crazy though it might sound to people who don’t share my most fundamental beliefs about things, I actually believe that when I do those things I am serving God as he wants me to serve him.
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I wasn’t sure whether I would share this or use it as an opportunity for comment. I’ve decided to do so, albeit with some fear and trembling. Somebody has to say things like this. If you think I shouldn’t have done so, or if you’re personally (or professionally) connected to the circumstances I describe here, don’t use the comments section to point this out. If you’re concerned enough, contact me privately.

A while ago, I applied for an academic job at a Christian college of higher learning. I describe it vaguely that way so as not to give any clues which college this was, but I’ll say that it was in New Zealand. Reading the job description, it looked to me like I was ideally qualified for the role, and given the profile of the college, which was not as high as some, I thought I might even have stood a good chance. I was interviewed, but I didn’t get a the job. That was a bummer, but it happens. I figured I would just keep doing what I do, doing my time in my job that I had always said I would just keep doing until I landed the sort of job I was looking for, trying to squeeze out of the rest of my schedule the time and space to work very hard at raising my profile to improve my chances of getting this sort of job.
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For someone in my position when it comes to academic and professional interests, geographical isolation is one of the biggest barriers between me and a large number of opportunities: Conferences, speaking opportunities and job opportunities, virtually all of which lie outside of New Zealand.

I’d like to think that there are enough people who have listened to the podcast and appreciated what they’ve heard that the barrier works the other way around. Perhaps you’d have otherwise been interested in having me pop by for a guest lecture or seminar, but you’re in Texas (or Sydney or London) and I’m in Dunedin, New Zealand.

Thanks to internet technology, the world has shrunk vastly and is still doing so. More and more often I’m seeing examples of people who are delivering one-off lectures or facilitating discussion as a visitor without actually being physically present. In particular, the quality of Skype has improved considerably over the last few years to the point where a guest lecture delivered via Skype (assisted with a data projector and decent speakers), if done well, is absolutely viable and not at all a second rate option.

In the past I’ve given public talks on: Philosophy of religion, the place of faith in public, abortion, ethical theory, philosophy of mind / human nature (from a philosophical as well as a theological and biblical point of view), church history, political philosophy, epistemology, justice and human rights, reasons to believe, death and the afterlife (from a theological and biblical viewpoint), as well as the parables of Jesus.

You can also check out the podcast for subject matter that I’ve spoken on before. Click the “Subscribe via iTunes” button over on the right if you have iTunes installed, and you’ll be able to see all the podcast episodes in the iTunes store, or peruse the “podcast” category here at the blog. And of course, I’m always open to suggestions.

So how about it? If you’d be interested in having me speak in your classroom or other gathering (and aren’t in the “buying Glenn an airline ticket” mood), drop me a line. The world is a small place.

Glenn Peoples

I submit the following questions/requests/general comments for the consideration of all journal editors out there.

Firstly, consider why you are asking people to send two (or even three) printed copies of an article that you might not even accept. You’re running an international journal, and you’re asking people to mail bundles of maybe 30 pages. Sending these packages internationally is not cheap!

Secondly, academic organisations are supposed to be enlightened, and to care about waste/efficiency, the environmental impact of transport, and staying at the cutting edge of civilisation. Sending huge wads of paper to you via aeroplane really isn’t helping that image. You have a website, so I’m assuming that you have email.

Thirdly, it’s probably more encouraging for people who might contribute something really great if you don’t require them to learn a whole new software package from scratch just so that they can send you an article. We like your journal, but is it really that important? LaTeX is not just another version of Microsoft Word or Open Office. It may as well be written in the click language of the Bushmen of the Kalahari for a person who hasn’t used it before. Plus, it’s an enormous download. Why not just accept Rich Text Format with some simple rules about presentation?

Fourthly, I know this is a bit of a personal bugbear that you might not care about, but can’t you all get together and just agree on a method of citing sources? How about one that’s not only briefer to write, but easy to read as well? This is especially true if you think your journal is so awesome that you turn down most submissions. Otherwise you’re asking people to write a unique version of their paper just for the sake of your journal. Again, I like your journal, but are you that important? Really? Maybe you are, but give us a break! The only book that should ever be called (1984) was written by George Orwell.

Lastly, and yeah I’m just being bitter now, remember: It’s not your article, it’s somebody else’s. Maybe if you wrote on the subject that the article is about, you’d decide to add a lengthy excursus on a related subject that you think is the most interesting subject in the world. When you get the chance to write that article, go for it. Satisfy that fascination of yours. Just understand that that’s not the subject that I want to write about in this article OK? Making my pursuit of your interest a prerequisite of you accepting this paper is probably a wasted effort. Live out your own passion – don’t do it through me.

…. OK, not really famous in general, but at least known by the right people. I’ve been up to a few things lately, which is why the blog has been fairly quiet. One of the things I’ve been doing is working on a promo CD. Basically, it’s a CD that I will be sending out to organisations that I’d like to know that I’m here, and with whom I’d like to work, whether as a potential future employee or maybe a guest speaker. I’m being my own publicity agent in other words. The CD is basically a miniature website that autoplays when the disc is inserted into the CD ROM. It includes selected podcast episodes and public talks, articles, my CV, and some endorsements (and if you’re in a position to do so and you’d be willing to write a brief endorsement of either me or the podcast, please let me know ASAP). On the front page of the “site on a disc” is an introductory blurb, links to the other sections of the disc, and also this: a short promo clip.

Yes, it’s intentionally very simple and only provides a tiny snippet of information. It doesn’t go into any depth at all, and one reason for that is that the disc isn’t primarily designed to be sent in with applications for university lecturing jobs – those jobs have fairly rigid guidlines concerning what to send in, and promo CDs is not one of those things. The promo video clip is simple and broad because it’s meant to be just a very general overview of which subject areas I specialise in for organisations that aren’t university departments. The more in depth information is included on the other material on the disc. This is just a kind of personal greeting on the front page. Anyway, here it is

EDIT: I have become aware that this clip might not play in Internet Explorer. The code used to embed the clip is fine. The solution is to stop using Internet Explorer and use another browser. I have looked for a way to work around this, but after some hours I have stopped looking.

You might read the title of this blog entry and think that I’m kidding. Well, I’m being intentionally provocative I’ll grant, but I’m not kidding.

Every now and then someone asks me if I would recommend that they go ahead and get a PhD in philosophy or theology. As rule of thumb, I wouldn’t. Why not? Didn’t I enjoy my experience? Yes, very much. I got a scholarship to pay for all my fees and a living allowance, so I got to do stuff I love for three years and get paid for it. It was great! And if that’s all you’re after – three years of doing what you love, then I take back my warning. Go ahead, do it, because you will very probably get what you want.

But what if you’re not doing it just for the satisfaction and pleasure. Are you going to do it for the knowledge? Read books. Start a blog and write articles. You don’t need to get a PhD to know about your subject. Actually you would only go after a PhD if you already knew your subject well enough to say something lengthy about it.

And then we come to the more likely culprit. You want to get a PhD because you think you’ll be able to enter professional academia once you’ve got a PhD, and perhaps a few publications. Now, some people ask me this because – no boasting intended – they admire what they think I’ve achieved. I’ve got a PhD, so I would know if it’s a good idea for them, because I’ve been there and done that. Well here’s the thing: Did you also notice that even though I completely finished the PhD in mid 2007 and it’s now mid 2010, I haven’t had a single academic job – not even a job interview?

Imagine that I’m in a rowboat, in the middle of a lake. So are a hundred other people. The lake is big enough to hold just one hundred rowboats. We all have fishing rods, and our heavily baited hooks are in the water. There’s a single fish in the water, and everyone on the lake knows it. You’re standing at the shore and you call out, “so…. should I bring my boat and rod out there too?” Another illustration: There’s an elevator full of people. No, not just full, it’s absolutely stuffed with people, and the crowd overflows out into the lobby, where still more people – dozens of them, are pressing in as hard as they can, trying to get into the elevator. Should you try to get in? Imagine that the scene before you does not change. The people in the elevator are quite happy to stay there, and the crowd pressed hard up against them just keeps on pressing it, showing no sign of letting up. You haven’t even entered the mob yet. Should you stand around for hours waiting to get in?

Consider the New Zealand scene in philosophy: Your options for universities are Auckland, Waikato, Victoria, Canterbury and Otago. There are a few smaller places (e.g. polytechnics) that may have an elective paper or so in philosophy, but these are the main options. Do they all hire new faculty each year? No of course not. There might – might – be two full time recruitments each year in the nation. How many graduates do you suppose there are? I don’t care to guess. Take into account, too, the fact that departments will not only consider New Zealand candidates. The situation is the same on a larger scale in the US, the UK, and Australia. As a PhD grad in philosophy, you will almost certainly not get a job on a philosophy faculty. Period. Should you get a PhD in philosophy? If you’re doing it for the love of it, sure why not. It’s expensive, but whatever. If you’re thinking of doing it to enter the academic profession with that degree, then you had better be special. Or you had better know somebody – in which case someone better than you is going to get screwed over. So you’d better be special. But can I recommend, in general, that you fling yourself into a pool of candidates – a pool that I am in – that already faces impossible odds? No. I can’t. The best advice I can give to most people (read: to normal people, who might happen to have a keen interest in philosophy and teaching) is simple: Don’t do it.

Glenn Peoples

The following is a message that I have sent out to a number of email lists of philosophy graduates and faculty:

I’m looking at establishing a New Zealand based online peer reviewed journal of philosophy called The Philosopher’s Stone. As far as I am aware this would be the first such journal based in this country. Pre-empting doing this successfully, I’ve created a website for the journal here.

From the “About” page:

The Philosophers’ Stone is the name of the legendary substance dreamt of by alchemists, supposed to be able to transform lead into gold, and believed by some to serve as an elixir for eternal life.

The Philosopher’s Stone is an online journal of philosophy founded on the conviction that the job of philosophers is to serve humanity by transforming the lead of confusion and uncertainty into the gold of clarity, understanding and upright living. What else could be the product of genuine and good philosophy – which is, after all, the love of wisdom? The intention of this journal is therefore to attract work aimed at promoting not only academic discussion of philosophical issues (something that is certainly hoped for), but also to promote the public understanding of those issues and of philosophy in general in an engaging and enjoyable way.

The target audience of TPS is wide: From philosophy students who want good resources to get a handle on their subject matter, to professors who want a good source of material to both draw on and recommend – and to read for their own enjoyment and edification – to members of the public with an interest in philosophy. The journal covers fresh expositions of thorny philosophical issues, good natured interaction between scholars at opposite ends of disagreements, exciting tales of recent developments in philosophy and more.

TPS is based in New Zealand and scholars from Australasia are especially encouraged to contribute, however contributions from further afield are certainly and always welcome.

At this stage I would envision that the journal would be a quarterly publication.

I am now asking for qualified people in New Zealand and Australia who might be interested in constituting an editorial board for the journal to register their interest. The actual commitment required would be fairly minimal. Primarily, it would involve being willing to either peer review submitted material, or to assist in identifying and approaching a suitable peer reviewer for submitted papers. The editor would liaise between contributors and editorial board members. I’d like to hit the ground running with at least fifteen members (but ten would be enough to signal sufficient interest in the world of antipodean philosophy to get the ball rolling).

[end of message]

Let’s see how this develops!

Greetings readers (and listeners). I have a request.

It’s no secret that I’m trying to land a teaching job at a university, or a role that makes use of my training and abilities. To that end, I’m putting together a CD that I’ll be sending out to organisations and colleges. I’m requesting something that I’d like to put on that CD – as well as on this site and to use in general for promoting the podcast and blog.

When Someone gets a letter, email or job application from me saying that I run one of New Zealand’s most popular blogs, or that I run the most popular podcast in the humanities in the country, and perhaps in Australasia, I’m never really sure that anyone’s impressed. What I’m looking for is endorsements from people who follow the podcast or who have listened to a substantial number of episodes. I include the blog in what I’d like people to endorse, but the podcast is more important, because a teaching role has more to do with the ability to convey ideas verbally.

I hate to get all elitist, but the reality is that I’m applying for roles in higher education, so people who view my material are more likely to care about the opinion of qualified people who work in the field. So here’s what I’m looking for: I’m looking for brief statements of endorsement of the blog and especially the podcast, from people who have postgraduate qualifications in philosophy and/or theology, and who are employed at a college of higher education (or any organisation that you think might be relevant in regrad to your teaching role) to teach and/or research in an area with a heavy philosophical component (any area of philosophy is fine: philosophy of religion, ethics, metaphysics, epistemology, political philosophy or political science, philosophy of science, critical thinking, take your pick). If you’ve ever recommended an article or episode here to students (or even just the blog/podcast in general), that would be an excellent thing to include as well.

If you’re willing and able to do this, then you have my sincerest thanks and appreciation. Be sure to list your qualifications, your position, and the college or organisation that you work for. Drop me a line HERE if you can help.

I’ve just completed an application for a lecturing role at a University in the UK (no need to mention which one). The section on employing people from overseas was not encouraging. Specifically, here’s what it said about applicants from outside the EEA:

If you are applying from outside the European Economic Area, the University will be required to prove that no other EEA national was capable of undertaking the work and obtain a work permit / certificate of sponsorship for you.

Now of course, this doesn’t prevent us from applying. But look at what it does say. It says that it’s not enough to be the best applicant – even the best by a country mile. The university cannot hire me unless it can prove that no applicant from within the EEA was even capable of doing the job. At all. If there was anyone capable of doing the job – even to a mediocre standard, then the literal wording of this policy means that I could be the greatest scholar in the entire world, but that person would get the job ahead of me.

How can a policy like this actually be good for a University?

PS If you haven’t seen my post on it yet, feel free to help me get to Oxford. (This reminder will appear every now and then until after August.)