Academic unemployment
Being unemployed can be generally stressful – I have experience of both non-academic and academic unemployment. With the former, I mean the time after my receiving my MA degree when I wasn’t yet pursuing an academic career, and with the latter I mean the time after receiving my doctoral degree and falling in love with doing research. In this blog post, I’m going to talk about the hardships of being unemployed and interested in an academic career, although some of it may overlap with experiences of unemployment generally.
How to talk about being unemployed?
One of the annoying parts about unemployment is dealing with questions about your employment situation. The thing is, almost always the reaction from others is an overtly pitying response, which makes you feel like your situation is indeed pitiful and terrible. And you don’t know how to respond yourself, because of course the situation is terrible in some ways (such as lacking a stable income), but why should we think that if we don’t have a job or research funding, our lives are basically on hold, meaningless and filled with sadness? I don’t think I should be depressed just because I’m in a bad employment situation right now. But the general response to news about unemployment is always negative. I’ve noticed myself trying to combat this with cringeworthy responses like “oh, no, I don’t have anything lined up right now, but besides that I’M DOING GREAT!” This may have weirded out some people…
It really feels difficult to have an honest conversation about unemployment. Admitting that it feels good to sleep late in the morning makes you feel guilty. Admitting that it’s crappy that the only reason to go outside is to get groceries feels depressing. You’re not really ‘allowed’ to think about the potential few upsides of unemployment because it means you’re a lazy bum leeching on the society, or something, but only focusing on the negative is incredibly self-destructive and serves nobody. I’m still working on this issue. I feel like periodic unemployment in the current world is just going to be a thing I can’t avoid, and I refuse to hate my life for it. Is that wrong? Can I honestly and openly say that without shooting myself in the leg?
What I can do is find ways to make my life meaningful during this time. I have an action plan that includes projects like starting this blog. I’m reading research papers I wouldn’t otherwise have the time to read. I’m continuing and polishing up research projects that I started last fall when I had a temporary postdoc contract at the university. And, of course, I’m working on funding applications and keep my eyes open for any positions that I could apply for. I don’t think these activities are only valuable and meaningful if I’m simultaneosly employed. I don’t think they are pitiful, depressing and sad.
It always feels like you’re the only one
Of course you should never compare yourself to others, but receiving your PhD and watching others receive theirs and immediately and successfully move on to new projects can definitely make you feel like you’re the one weirdo who can’t seem to win the lottery “that everyone else does”. In reality, other postdocs that are experiencing what you are are probably doing the same thing as you – keeping quiet about their situation because it’s humiliating to not have anything going on “when everyone else is”.
Last summer I was able to meet another postdoc who had been unemployed since receiving her PhD. This person was super qualified and motivated with fascinating research interests (dare I say, like myself); if there was any sense in academic employment, she’d be snatched away and hired immediately. It may be terrible to say that seeing someone else in the same situation did make me feel better because I’d really come to believe I was somehow inherently worse than others for not being successful with any of my applications so far. But this person wasn’t worse than others, and neither am I. We just haven’t been in the right place at the right time, answering to a specific need that someone with the power to make decisions was looking to address. And there must be more of us – we’re just somewhere out there, struggling individually.
‘Free labour’
What’s especially troubling about academic unemployment is that you’re always expected to be producing new research, whether you’re paid for it or not. If you don’t, you don’t look active, don’t have enough publications to be considered for positions – I’m not sure how closely publication lists are checked in funding applications, but you need to look like you know your stuff. And this is something I’ve found really difficult to swallow, even if I typically end up doing research-related things anyway because I can’t help myself. While the long-term unemployed on other fields also usually have to be active somehow to remain employable (I also did voluntary studies and attended training events after my MA) it’s probably not comparable to the expectation to publish top research in top journals with limited tools. Which leads us to…
On the outside looking in
An unemployed scholar is usually also locked out of access to journals and electronic materials, as well as many academic events that require you to have funding or a contract to participate. So somehow you’re expected to stay up to date without access to readings, and stay relevant without face-to-face contact to other researchers. Conferences aren’t free either; for the unemployed, travelling a longer distance is not an option, and the participation fees alone can be hundreds of euros. How many are willing or able to dig into their personal savings just to show the world that they’re still out there, trying their best? It can easily become a vicious cycle of not being able to do your research propely because you don’t have access to the materials and community, and not receiving chances to become employed or funded because of it. I’m currently expected to add more references to one of my projects, and I’m genuinely a bit scared because the references I need might be locked behind a paywall.
I’m complaining because these issues are fixable. There could be even more focus on open access publishing so that everyone can read the research, not just the ones with the best affiliations. Academic events could clearly state in their invitations that, for example, alumni are also welcome, whether they are currently officially affiliated with the university or not. (And these invitations wouldn’t be posted on staff-only email lists.) And discounts could exist not only for students, but also for those unemployed or with a low income. I understand that nothing is free, but it’s also lame for events to benefit from the participation of those without monetary support from the university.
I started the post talking about how I didn’t want to focus on the negativity of the experience of unemployment, but then ended up writing a lot about what gives me anxiety, stress, frustration, or even angers me about it. (Oops!) Maybe someone in the same situation will read this and at least be able to feel like they’re not alone. I do hope that my period of unemployment will soon be over and for longer than a few months; a break of even just two years from uncertainty would be luxurious at this point (as a PhD student, I always got funding for one year at a time, always learning about it in December – it’s not a very healthy way to live). Until then, I’ll keep finding ways to make things interesting and meaningful, and keep my brain active!