I guess I suspected that this might be a problem, but it really sank in when a close colleague told me the other day that he was freaked out by it. And I’d hate to have you hear it from anyone else but me.
Category Archives: Personal
Keep holy the furlough day.
In case you hadn’t heard, the State of California is broke. (Actually, probably worse than broke. This is one of those times where we find ourselves glad that our state does not have kneecaps.) As a consequence of this, the California State University system (one of whose 23 campuses is my own fair university) is now dealing with a $585 million reduction in funding. (At my own fair university, the cut is about $40 million.)
None of the options for addressing the budget cuts are wonderful. They have included yet another round of student fee increases and layoffs of significant numbers of lecturers (although they aren’t being counted as layoffs because the lecturers were classified as “temporary” workers, this despite the fact that many of them have been teaching here for a decade or two). And, this academic year, they also include furloughs for the remaining faculty and staff.
A furlough is a period of time for which the employee is not paid, and on which the employee performs no work. Thus, an immediate consequence of a furlough is less pay (for CSU faculty in my bargaining unit, 9.23% less pay for the academic year). However, a furlough is distinct from a salary reduction — it does not effect our health benefits, retirement benefits, and the like, and, at present, the reductions in pay cover only the year from July 1, 2009 to June 30, 2010. Despite getting less pay during this period, the furlough doesn’t reduce anyone’s base salary. As well, the assumption is that our taking these furlough days (for faculty in my bargaining unit, nine days per semester, 18 for the academic year) saves enough money overall to save some jobs.
We’re shouldering our share of the pain. But, we’re not shouldering an inordinate share of the pain by working on those unpaid furlough days. If the State of California cannot pay for a full academic year of teaching, research, and service activities from us, the State of California will not receive a full academic year of teaching, research, and service activities from us. This is what sharing the pain is about.
In discussing the general issue of faculty and staff furloughs before, I noted the tendency to assume that academics will figure out a way to do the same amount of work (or more) with fewer resources. This is just the kind of assumption that can lead administrators to regard furloughs as a de facto salary cut that needn’t do much to disrupt the operation of a university. Academics unwittingly feed this kind of thinking by prioritizing the needs of others, like our students, over our own needs. But working for free just isn’t sustainable, especially when faculty workload has consistently ratcheted upward and hard-won increases in compensation have never been in proportion to the increased workload.
When the budget is broken, being honest about what kind of faculty workload is sustainable is essential to fixing it.
And here, we’re actually in a reasonably good position because our furloughs are the result of an explicit agreement between the CSU administration and the California Faculty Association. This means that there are clear parameters, accepted by both sides, for how we are to honor our furlough days. Especially helpful is the Furlough FAQ which the CFA has compiled. Among other things, this FAQ emphasizes that furlough days are not workdays with no pay:
First day of classes at the exploding monkey factory.
Because we’re all in the same exploding monkey factory together.
So far, no paper jams of consequence to report at the department photocopier, but the toner ran out at 11:58 AM Pacific Time. We are hopeful that the student assistant who comes on duty at 1:00 PM will be able to change the toner swiftly while whispering soothing words to the photocopier.
(Faculty are not allowed to change the toner, because as a group we have demonstrated little competence at this messy task. Also, the crying makes onlookers uncomfortable.)
Today’s policy ponderable:
Reader mail.
In my inbox today:
I’m curious, what credentials (academic or otherwise) does one need to become a philosopher?
For the purposes of employment in a university philosophy department, a graduate degree in philosophy (usually a Ph.D. but sometimes an M.A.) is standard. Kind of like a chemist can be expected to have a degree in chemistry, or a biologist to have a degree in biology.
If you’re an off-the-books philosopher, I imagine this requirement might be relaxed.
Now, whether there are good reasons to accept the degree-linked-credentialist status quo (for philosophy or any other academic field) is a separate question. Commenters are welcome to take a swing at that if they so choose.
Welcome back.
My guess is that the first faculty meeting after one’s sabbatical year is never an easy one, but when that faculty meeting happens during a state budget implosion the likes of which no one can recall, it’s kind of like parachuting into an exploding monkey factory.
The high point:
Dem’s fightin’ words!
It was decided that the Free-Ride offspring are maybe, kind of, old enough to watch Raiders of the Lost Ark without having nightmares. Even though they haven’t seen it before, they seem to have picked up at least some general information about Indiana Jones as one of the canonical figures in American pop culture.
Dr. Free-Ride: So, what do you know about Indiana Jones?
Younger offspring: He’s a hero.
Dr. Free-Ride: Actually, he’s an archaeology professor at a university.
Younger offspring: No he’s not!
Dr. Free-Ride: Yes he is! He’s a professor just like me! Maybe I’m a hero, too.
Younger offspring: You’re not a hero or a professor! You’re a philosophist!
Dr. Free-Ride: Oh no you didn’t!
* * * * *
We’re watching it now, less than an hour in. The sprogs were unconvinced that the guy in the suit and horn-rimmed glasses writing stuff on the chalkboard in the classroom was actually the same guy with the bullwhip who defeated the booby-traps in the opening sequence.
Meanwhile, I’m now wondering whether his collection of artifacts falls within the bounds of international treaties and professional ethics. And I kind of hate that traitorous monkey.
Lunch plate audit.
PalMD is trying to eat better (and drop a little weight). Dr. Isis has been offering some advice on what sorts of meals might help Pal cut the calories while still being healthy and satisfying. Pal has been taking the advice to heart, but finds time constraints an impediment to the kind of food he want to be eating.
As you might guess, my work and family situation give me some experience in throwing together meals under time pressure. So I wanted to offer a couple of quick recipes to Pal. But I also thought I’d page Dr. Isis to see if she’d weigh in on the nutritional punch these dishes pack (or don’t).
Here’s my lunch plate from today:
In which the elder Free-Ride offspring channels Descartes.
At bedtime, after the reading of the stories, the younger Free-Ride offspring lay upon Dr. Free-Ride’s better half, and Dr. Free-Ride’s better half responded by making strangling noises. Of course, I called in from the other room to remind the children that homicide, whether intentional or accidental, is forbidden in the house.
Younger offspring: I’m not killing him! He’s pretending!
Dr. Free-Ride’s better half: Actually, I’m pretending to be alive.
Elder offspring: Pretending means you are alive. If you weren’t alive, you wouldn’t be able to pretend anything.
Dr. Free-Ride: Well played, child!
Twelve reasons to finish writing your dissertation.
The other day, it occurred to me that I have a goodly number of friends who have been in Ph.D. programs (and may still be “in” the program in some more or less official way), and who have more or less finished their graduate research, but who haven’t managed to get their dissertations written. (I’m not going to name names; you know who you are.)
In this post, I want to offer these friends (and others in this situation) encouragement to get that dissertation written!
Yes, I know, you have your reasons for not finishing. Yes, I know writing a dissertation can feel like the hardest thing ever — I wrote two of them, so I have a bit of experience here. Believe me, I know that the writing of a dissertation often takes place against the backdrop of intense psychological obstacles and insane demands on your time; I wrote my first one while experiencing a major crisis about what I wanted to be when I grew up, while the second only had to compete with the care of an infant, a full teaching load, and an exhausting daily commute.
You don’t need me to give you reasons not to write that dissertation, else it would be written. So, from the other side of that dark tunnel, let me give you some reasons to do it:
I chat with Paw-talk about ethics and animal research.
In case you’re interested, Paw-talk, a website aimed at humans with pets, invited me over to chat about philosophy, ethics, science, and the use of animals in research. You can find that interview here.
It’s also worth noting that the site features a number of interviews with science bloggers you may recognize … perhaps because the Paw-talk team has a hunch that people surfing the web for pet-related information may also have a latent curiosity about matters scientific. Good on Paw-talk for feeding that curiosity!