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Part II
Research
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4
The Organization of Time in Scholarly Activities Carried Out under American Conditions in Resource-Rich Research Universities
The qualifications in this overly long title are meant to indicate that the conditions under which I work, and on which my suggestions are based, are by no means universal. By American conditions I primarily mean sets of circumstances, some making scholarship easier and others making it more difficult. The U.S. professors who are expected to carry on original research are also (with few exceptions) required to teach. I like and value this arrangement, but like it or not, it affects the time that can be devoted to research. Time devoted to teaching and advising students and preparing lectures cannot be devoted directly to research, though it can, by broadening horizons, extend the scope of the scholar's interests and his familiarity with certain material. When teaching requirements are especially heavy, they may not leave much time and energy for research. American conditions also signify that there is a cadre of professors of relatively equal status rather than, as in Europe, usually a single professor who is also head of a department and personally controls whatever resources are available. European professors may continuously be burdened with administrative duties, but they may also be able to set their own schedules, use junior colleagues and students as research assistants, and have first crack at external research funds. Junior members may have to take what they can get, which may not be much.
The U.S. professors by and large are enmeshed in a tradition of faculty self-government. This, too, I find laudatory. Great universities are characteristically "bottom heavy," for it is in the disciplines and the subdisciplines that most knowledge lies. The price of liberty nevertheless is committee meetings, which can use up much time. The recent proliferation of regulatory requirements, committees on human subjects, reporting on financial interests, and the like, add to the administrative burdenāone that is unlikely to be borne to the same degree by European colleagues.
Finally U.S. conditions signify that academics are supposed to carry on research of scholarly merit as judged by their peers and not by external political or bureaucratic forces. This does not mean that professors must stay out of party or policy politics (I do not) nor that they do not engage in advocacy (I do). Rather it means that in addition to whatever else they do, they also write scholarly work and are judged according to criteria internal to their disciplines. Time would be used quite differently if party rallies and pamphlets counted as scholarship or if representatives of external forces or their criteria were used in hiring and promoting (or failing to promote) professors.
By rich research universities, I point to those institutions where research is an acknowledged central priority and that therefore provide the resources necessary to carry it onāa modest teaching load, a decent office, an excellent library, computing facilities, and more. Professors at wealthy universities are also given or have reasonable opportunity to secure such services as secretarial help, speaking to colleagues on the phone, mailing letters and draft manuscripts, even sending material express so a professor can catch up with his mail while on the road. There is no sense advising this exact course of action for scholars in departments that habitually run out of stamps.
Nonetheless the most important resource by farāthe uses of the selfāare available to everyone. Of course if we think of ourselves as objects out of controlālook at poor Aaron, he is so fixed in his ways he cannot change his self-destructive behaviorāthere is no hope for improvement. But if we are reasonably adaptable, recognizing that we are the most important instrument we will ever possess, then progress is possible. Not a word will be said here about creativity. I do not know more about it than anyone else and that is damn little. Whatever we have or do not have, this chapter is about making effective use of the time we have to do whatever creative work we have in us.
The other side of the coin is that professors in research universities both seek and are obliged to maintain a wide range of external contactsāprofessional associations; other scholars, domestic and foreign; governmental agencies, private foundations, media of information; and a lot more. A professor who does not do at least some of this (many do all) finds himself out of touch and his students disadvantaged in finding employment and obtaining research funds. For students need not only references for their first job but help throughout their careers for promotion, research grants, and the rest. The professor who stops doing research hurts his former students, just as their accomplishments add luster to his own.
I run a small employment agency out of my office. I read manuscripts for students, colleagues, publishers, and journals. I serve on departmental and campus committees, professional association study groups, and give and listen to lectures in different parts of the world. I answer questions from the media, testify as an expert witness, and speak to alumni. All of these activities are essential, honorable, and a snare. They involve dissipation of effort and fragmentation of time. They are distracting. They are misleading because they suggest one has arrived somewhere when in fact one is only in perpetual transit. The law of the equalization of talent is inexorable: Having done something some people somewhere consider worthwhile, one is invited to travel to talk about it so often that one becomes increasingly less worth inviting.
Yet it would be wrong, in my opinion, to avoid these duties-cum-obligations-cum-pleasures-cum-chores. If one does not review books or articles for scholarly journals, yet expects others to review his, they must do more than their share. Since one benefits from the excellence of his campus and would object if decisions were taken that one did not like, campus and departmental search and policy committees are a must.1 Honored to be a fellow of this or that, it is only right to return a bit of service. Colleagues and people one does not know personally feel that one's visibility gives them a call on one's timeāto answer a question, give a talk, read a manuscript, advise on recruitment, or just show that one recognizes their existence. Not many of these things are terribly time consuming. Some may be evaded or postponed (since I cannot bear long meetings, for instance, I attend far fewer conferences than other people in my position). All in all however, professional time is whittled away bit by bit in an onslaught so varied and inexhaustibleāpartly brought on by responses to one's own work, partly by changing societal demands, partly by desire to be recognized, even flatteredāthat it is well nigh irresistible. These demands multiply so quickly that, even as one learns to deflect them, turning down a much larger proportion still leaves an absolutely larger number.
The situation has become so bad that I hear more and more of colleagues who feel they cannot do concentrated research on their home campus, increasingly therefore they work at home (a practice made easier by interactive word processors, so one can communicate with collaborators without going to campus) or take frequent leaves abroad or even teach at other institutions where they are not responsible for, or responsive to, students, administrators, and others who take up their time.
I have presented this broad-brush version of conditions everyone knows but does not usually talk about because I believe both that they are destructive of scholarly life but can be successfully combated, provided one pays serious attention to the organization of scholarly work. Organization of time is essential if only because the natural forces are all working in the opposite direction.
Honor the Sabbath. Aside from its other benefits, the Sabbath, the inviolable day off, is a protection against the self-absorption that itself becomes a form of fanaticism. The Bible says that the good farmer harvests almost all of his produce, but if some is left in the field, he should not go back for it. This advice is a warning against monomania. Trying to get it all becomes self-worship. The same warning applies to the personal relationships that sustain the scholar in us. These relationships constitute the emotional order on which creative work is built. Our objective is to combine scholarship with life, work with love, not to subordinate the one to the others.
Principles of Self-Organization
The platitudes that follow would not be worth mentioning were they not followed so seldomly. Imposing oneself on the immediate environment, as opposed to being imposed on by it, appears from my observation to be the exception rather than the rule. Perhaps "going with the flow" seems easier, though I will show it certainly is not more effective. Perhaps it appears too difficult or even wrong to deflect or rearrange the tide of interruptions that riddle the day, seemingly making it impossible to engage in sustained effort. Some days it is impossible, at least for me. Even then, as the following principles indicate, I try to be efficient in discharging my duties so there will be marginally fewer interruptions in the future. The problem is how to carve out of most working days a sufficient number of consecutive working hours to make progress in scholarly work.
The principles I am about to enunciate may appear to be (because they are) self-serving. They are designed to help those who employ them. But they are not designed to cheat family, students, colleagues, departments, universities, professions, and governments out of what is their due. Obligations to others, I think, come first, or better still, come with service to oneself. Surely a professor is better able to assist his students (in guiding their work, finding them jobs, dedicating them to scholarship) if he is active professionally. His recommendations and reading of their papers must be more valuable to them if he has done more valuable work. Even when research should be halted to serve others, however, self-organization will see to it that these aspects of one's job are performed in a selfsustaining manner, that is, given their due but not allowed to destroy the individual qualities that make these services worth giving and receiving. Much of what we do is a product of habit, what we do not do, a result of disuse. Whether we want sufficiently to mobilize the self to overcome inertia in the service of higher purposes is the question.
If you are your most important resource, your time is your most valuable asset. Do not fritter it away: Use it.
1. Do not do anything for yourself others can do for you (professionally speaking, of course). Do not go to the library unless you want to browse in the stacks. Everything else can be done by assistants (it is especially desirable if your department or research center establishes a library courier service). Libraries are good to use but not to visit. Do not make your own phone calls; do not type your own letters and manuscripts; do not make your own travel reservations. On the contrary, go systematically through your own professional activities and find other people to do them. Of course every principle can be corrupted and has its exceptions. Academics should not delegate meetings with students or colleagues or contributions to faculty self-government. But I do not consider doing my own photocopying part of what I owe the world. There are times when doing things oneself may be more efficacious or just more fun. Call other people yourself if you like doing that and print out your writing on a word processor, especially if you are traveling. Bu...
