I am a disposable academic

In 2010 an excellent, if a tad bleak, article appeared in The Economist describing the state of modern day academia: The disposable academic. If anything, things are worse now. Academics who have recently ‘made it’ into the prized tenured positions need to be honest and forthright with research newbies and potential PhD students about the realities of the current academic ecosystem.


The reality is this: in the academic ecosystem PhD students are the plankton. They are the stuff on which the rest of the system relies for sustenance. PhD students carry out the research that the senior permanent staff oversee but no longer have time to do. Many PhD students don’t make it to the next level of the ecosystem. Many drop out, because a PhD is an exercise in endurance which is too long, isolating and frustrating. Those who complete their degree move into the next level of the ecosystem – they become the bottom feeders.

The bottom feeders are contract researchers. Depending on the system, you can exist as a bottom feeder for your entire academic ‘career’. You rely heavily on the processes and higher entities in the greater system for funding your salary and finding research projects to work on. The system dictates that you must pay your way, work hard for a meagre salary, publish extensively, and fight with the other bottom feeders for money, results, data…

Few bottom feeders evolve towards the next level: the higher swimming fish. These are the mid-career researchers who have obtained a permanent job. Above them are the bigger fish, the sharks and the mammals.


As stated in The Economist, it’s down to basic supply and demand. And for good reason, being a higher swimming fish is pretty nice. Relative to other jobs, in academia you have a lot of control over your activities. You can determine the direction of your teaching and research. You get paid to think. So everyone wants to be a permanent, tenured academic. The problem is that there simply aren’t enough jobs, no matter how brilliant you are.

Most of the academics who trained me as a young researcher did not have to contend with these issues. They were all brilliant, most often they were rebellious, non-compliant, awkward and intellectually rigorous. They came into academia when PhDs were far less common, they were exceptional to start with. Countless times I heard the same old spiel from the senior generation of academics: “you’ll be badly paid, overworked, and exploited, but you’ll make it in the end”. It is a line delivered with a knowing smile, because what we do, here in academia, goes above and beyond pay cheques and job security. This quirky adage holds no credence these days coming from those who never battled their way up through the present ecosystem, who never spent years, even decades on temporary contracts.

It’s the mid-career academics who have come through the system more recently who owe it to new and aspiring researchers to be honest about the harsh system. They also should feel a burden of responsibility to change the system from the inside. Elsewhere in an articulate blogpost on this subject, it has been argued that it is not in the interest of permanent staff to risk losing PhD or contract staff by telling them about the realities of the system. Maybe this is true, but I think it is a cynical view of tenured academics. I don’t think that they are maintaining a culture of silence to keep a flow of unsuspecting students or researchers knocking at their door. Quite simply, it is easy to forget what life was like as plankton or as a bottom feeder when you’ve evolved into a higher fish. But it’s time for that to change.

There needs to be an honest reality-check when discussing or promoting an academic career to young researchers. The fact is that they are unlikely to make it as career academics with a permanent job. This should not be delivered as a jokey commentary implying that doing a PhD is about more than earning money and having a stable job. To most people starting a PhD in their 20s, it is easy to laugh-off such comments. Another incentive to change the system, besides honesty, is that it breeds unfavourable behaviours. The competitiveness expected of contract researchers in the system today means that those least likely to behave altruistically and act benevolently towards PhD students coming up are increasingly going to get the prized permanent jobs. They are the ones willing to fight it out, to persist in the harsh waters. So in the end, we’ll end up with nothing but sharks at the upper end of the system, which is in no one’s interest.

I am one of the disposable academics described in the article. I have been involved in research for 14 years, carrying out a PhD, and employed as a contract researcher for that entire period. Now, my time at the bottom of this great ecosystem is coming to a close. Within the next 15 months I will either evolve up or move out…

I won’t be recommending research as a viable career, whether I exit or remain in the ecosystem. I will have serious and candid conversations with potential PhD students and contract researchers before seeing them offered meagre salaries that are difficult to sustain. Would I have done a PhD and started out as a researcher if someone had warned me? I think so.  I don’t regret it either. But,  I think people should know that they will be a disposable entity in the vast academic ecosystem where evolving up the food chain is unlikely. And I for one, don’t want to swim in waters full of circling sharks.

By Michelle


This post also featured in the Huffington Post Education section

References & related articles





Why women leave academia and why universities should be worried (feimineach.com)

About these ads

18 thoughts on “I am a disposable academic

  1. C’est vraiment un post très touchant, Michelle. Je pense qu’il est d’autant plus important d’avoir un discours réaliste que l’on entre le plus souvent en recherche en nourrisant des espoirs démesurés quant à la liberté dont on on est susceptible de jouir, l’enthousiasme et le soutien de son équipe d’accueil et biensûr les perspectives de recrutement. Or les seniors navigant en eau sûre ont une réelle responsabilité dans l’entretien de ce mythe. Il me semble qu’en connaissance de cause, j’aurais, moi aussi tenté ma chance, mais la chute aurait été un peu amortie par le sentiment d’avoir été traitée avec honnêteté et respect – pour le minuscule bout de plancton que je suis.

  2. From the comments you received at HuffPost and here it should be clear that your talent is valued by others. What else can one expect? You are not the first person on our planet that has to turn the own talent into a livelihood (however complicated that might appear). Have you considered to broaden your interest from just medical anthropology towards more general natural anthropology.

    • Thanks Chaeremon. Indeed I am considering all sorts of prospects for the future, including working for myself. I have been, and am very fortunate over the years, but some young researchers are in very precarious positions. I see you are an independent researcher, maybe you could tell me your story if I email you?

      • My story cannot be role model because (in simplified terms) it began 40 years ago when I was 20, and the world (in particular my profession) has changed so much. If you like, I can talk in email about my driving forces (it wasn’t just money).

  3. I’m a school teacher, which makes me a crustacean I guess. I have the maddening government changes to GCSEs and other school-based absurdities to contend with, but at least I know where my next few meals are coming from.

    A thought: how many of the ‘bottom feeders’ are women (more likely to take part-time and temporary jobs, less inclined to be the ‘renegade’ types you mentioned as there is more at stake…)? This is reminiscent of Virginia Woolf’s thoughts:

    “Yet genius of a sort must have existed among women as it must have existed among the working classes. Now and again an Emily Bronte or a Robert Burns blazes out and proves its presence. But certainly it never got itself on to paper. (…) Indeed, I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.”

      • So true, but we should not encourage others to buy into this “mythology” when we are questioned about our own paths, especially if we ended up without a tenured position.

  4. Pingback: Links 11/3/13 | Mike the Mad Biologist

  5. Pingback: Why women leave academia and why universities should be worried | feimineach.com

  6. Pingback: How Academia Resembles a Drug Gang | Alexandre Afonso

  7. Pingback: How Academia Resembles a Drug Gang | ΕΝΙΑΙΟ ΜΕΤΩΠΟ ΠΑΙΔΕΙΑΣ

  8. Pingback: Dealing in Diplomas | unibomber

  9. Pingback: Top posts from Notes from the research frontier | Notes from the research frontier

  10. Pingback: Why women leave academia and why universities should be worried

  11. Pingback: Why women leave academia and why universities should be worried | feimineach.com

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s