Back when Jerry Brown was governor of California the first time, the state went into one of its periodic budget crises, and the good governor decided to freeze salaries throughout the state university system. When the faculty objected, he told them they should be content with the “psychic dollars” they got from teaching. Very well, they replied, then we’ll just pay our taxes in psychic dollars. Unfortunately, market forces eventually triumphed over wit.
I thought of this exchange while reading the Chronicle’s big issue on adjunct faculty, which hit the stands two weeks ago. Everyone knows that the tenured ranks are shrinking as people die or retire, and that their positions are not being replaced, but rather filled with part-timers and adjuncts who are paid starvation wages, receive no benefits, and enjoy few or none of the professional respect, standing, opportunities, or institutional support normally accorded to the so-called “regular” faculty. In fact, over half of all undergraduate course hours are now taught by adjuncts or part-timers, so it is they who should be considered “regular.” But they are not treated so by either the profession or the institution.
To paraphrase Mark Twain, everybody wrings their hands about the adjunct situation, but nobody does anything about it. At least that’s how it sometimes feels. But in fact, a considerable movement has begun to unionize part-timers and adjuncts, and to advocate for better employment conditions. The Chronicle has run stories of organizing and successes on various campuses, where tangible gains have been made. And the feature issue just mentioned has shone a bright light, which, if not harsh or glaring enough (for this writer, at least), still has the merit of publicly acknowledging the problem and identifying some of the blind spots that infect both the profession and the institution. It also raises the question of balance, which makes it especially pertinent to this series.
The Chronicle reporters surveyed hundreds of part-time faculty teaching in the Chicago area; they also looked closely at one school, Oakton Community College, whose president, as it happens, began her career as an adjunct. At Oakton, full-time faculty make around $86,000 a year on average, teaching five course per semester, whereas the most an adjunct can make for the same load is around $21,000. This shocking disparity prompted diverse reactions. Some part-timers claimed to be content with the tradeoff: no committees, flexible scheduling, freedom to moonlight, and, of course, those priceless psychic dollars. Others felt undervalued and exploited, bitter about receiving unequal pay for equal work, and resentful at being treated as second-class citizens when their credentials and skills were as good or better than those of the regular faculty.
When asked about these reactions, administrators and regular faculty gave familiar responses. The president of Oakton said she had encouraged departments to include adjuncts in their meetings and mailings, and to involve them in curriculum and planning. The regular faculty claimed to be reaching out. But neither the institution nor the regular faculty suggested equal rights or equal pay. Administrators claimed that their adjunct pay scales fell within the norm; regular faculty claimed they had more responsibilities and worked longer hours than adjuncts.
In the one case, it is simply market forces. As long as there are people willing to teach for $2100 a course, colleges will hire them. It’s simple, convenient, and expedient — as long as you operate under a factory model of education. In the other case, you are merely rationalizing privilege. No one can tell me that any college or university in this country (apart, perhaps from those where research is the sole mission) pays its regular faculty three times as much for their committee work and scholarship as it does for their teaching. And it’s absurd to make such an argument for a community college, where teaching is supposedly the main thing.
Because adjuncting and part-time work have become ubiquitous in academe, we need to examine it from the standpoint of navigating and balancing a career. It’s one of the braided streams of academic life. The “standard model” that we introduced at the beginning of this blog is hardly standard today. More and more people are finding that after grad school the only doors open to them lead to part-time or adjunct positions. It is hard to awaken from the sleep of reason to discover how powerfully market forces and the profession’s jealousy of its own privileges can blunt, bend, or break an academic career.
In the posts to come, we’ll look at the adjunct and part-time path from the viewpoints of institution, profession, and person. What are the benefits and costs to each, and how can we find a soul-sustaining balance under such conditions?