on the importance of the Industry experience
As we were lunching in preparation for a presentation the other day, a friend asked me to clarify what I wrote several months ago about moving differently through academia because of the years I spent working in industry. I’ve also been talking about this lately with another friend who’s taking some time off from school. She wants to come back quickly, and I’ve encouraged her to take at least a full year and work. The more I think about it, the more I really do believe that work experience gives an academic several distinct practical advantages.
First off, you will never feel trapped by the Academy because you don’t know how to do anything else. Also, you won't be trapped because you simply don’t know anything else. Universities and university work are strange beasties. Places like this are not the real world, not by any stretch. You need to know how to get through real, average work situations, if for no other reason than not being blinded by the environment we work in. You also need to have a sense of what other options you have. You may very well find that you like working a “real” job, that you like having a job that doesn’t haunt your nights and weekends, that you don’t miss teaching loads or research and publication requirements. All of this is important stuff to find out; if you miss teaching but not the rest, you can always become a trainer in your company or industry sector. Being an academic should be something you choose, not something you do because your parents did it or because you just don’t know any better. When grad school or the T&P process or department weirdness gets you down, you’ll know that you have options. Just knowing that you have the skills to go do something else makes it easier to stay, because you’re making an active choice rather than being kept in a cage. Workplace experience will also open up more consulting opportunities and make you a better consultant, if you’re interested in going down that road.
In my case, working also gave me a very pragmatic view of what I do now. For me, being a humanities type is a job. It is not a calling. Muses do not visit me, although I am sometimes inspired. My job does not make me different from or better than anybody else. There are very practical reasons that I do what I do. After having working in the shipping business and done peak season special assignments for years, I wanted a job that gave me substantial time away from the office at Christmas. I didn’t want to have to work full time during summers. I wanted travel to be a requirement, and I wanted my employer to pay for at least part of it. I wanted to work in a sector where solid health insurance and retirement plans are pretty much the norm. I wanted to read and write for a living, and I wanted to be around other people who were doing the same thing. (I learned that during a stint freelancing, when I found out that I hate working alone all the time.) I wanted to talk to people who shared my general interests and who didn’t find reading and writing a lot to be strange. I wanted to be able to share what I had learned with others on their way up without being called a know-it-all or foisting myself on them. All of that ads up to “university researcher/teacher.” So here I am, doing my apprenticeship. And the cool thing about this apprenticeship is that it lets me start to do all the stuff on that list already.
So let’s say that you’re sure this is the gig for you, and you’ve made the leap. You’re an academic. That time you spent working the “real” job will continue to pay off. For one thing, you’ll be used to office politics. I see a lot of new grad students who haven’t worked before show up, gasp aloud, and say “There are politics in this department!” And the answer to that is, “Yeah, because there are people in this department.” This ain’t Hogwart’s, baby. It’s not like there are good people and bad people and everyone is consistent in their behavior and you get to know who is which. It’s more complicated than that. Having dealt with normal workplace shenanigans will give you some immunity to this sort of thing, and it will also give you enough experience to identify a truly sick department and get the hell out of it. You’ll have a reasonable sense of what’s normal and what’s not. It will also give you a more astute sense of who you can safely put on a functional exam and/or dissertation committee.
If you learned to be any sort of decent business person, you learned basic survival skills like how to graciously say no and how to accept or deflect criticism. This will serve you well in all sorts of situations: committees, your classroom, one-on-one with co-workers. You learned how to deal with people who want to intimidate you. You learned how to test the climate, how to figure out who you can afford to piss off (and how far you’ll let things go before you do so). You can identify who you need to keep on your side and how to try to do that. You learned about strategic alliances. You learned what can be said in writing and how dangerous written documents can be, and what needs to be kept to talk. You learned when to shut the office door during a conversation. You learned when to keep your head down and how to do that. You learned how to watch yourself.
And, last but certainly not least, you most likely learned how to get things done. You learned how to keep a team/group/committee on track, and hopefully you learned how to do it without being overbearing. You learned how to do your best to involve everyone and play to their strengths. You learned how to communicate your activities to higher-ups. You learned how and when to toot your own horn, which you’ll have to do even more in academia. You learned how to manage your time and how to compartmentalize and prioritize tasks. You learned when to just press down on the gas and get something done, and when you need to step back and take time away from a project, even if it’s just the time it takes to get a cup of coffee.
There is probably even more that I’m forgetting, but all of that is enough, I think, to suggest that industry experience will make you a better — and maybe even happier — academic. It’s what’s been true for me, anyway. You can learn all of this in the process of grad school and tenure, but I think it makes it less painful if you learn it beforehand, and it certainly gives you an early advantage. I’m not saying that I’ve mastered all of these skills, but even knowing that they’re there and that I need to work on them has been beneficial.
Comments
This is a wonderful rheumination on the nature of work in the academy. I, too, came to graduate school from a long career in the "real world" and find your insights and comments to be right on.
I have often thought that there should be a requirement that anyone who wants to go to college, and particularly to graduate school, has to work for at least two years before admission.
I particularly relate to your characterization of the grad school experience as apprenticeship. I thought I was the only grad student left who felt that way. I have often been mystified by the complaints I hear from other grad students - about working conditions, or whatever, and wonder what they expected from an apprenticeship. I think I am much more appreciative of what I have because of what I had and the experience I had in business before.
Anyway - well put, and thanks for posting.
- Chris :)
Posted by: Chris Geyer | November 21, 2005 12:57 PM
Very insightful and encouraging. I agree, knowing that life goes on outside academe and that no one is really trapped would make academe bearable, particularly for those who are maginally employed. I wish I had had your perspective when I want on "the inside," dreading the fate of leaving.
Posted by: The Happy Tutor | November 24, 2005 12:55 PM