Yesterday I was at a wonderful conference, organized by the Center for Inquiry, celebrating five years of Dennett's Breaking The Spell (2006). I read the book not long after it came out and it considerably helped shape my thinking about the evolutionary origins of religion, a topic at the time hardly discussed in the philosophical literature. I have in the meantime come to disagree with most of the claims of Breaking the Spell, but the book did provide a valuable framework. Dennett's keynote was entitled The Tender trap and the dogs that aren't barking. One of the analogies from biology to culture Dennett used in this lecture was the tender trap of some carnivorous plants (pitcher plants, see image). With its attractive exterior, the plant gently lures insects inside. Once trapped the prey has no way of getting out, and is slowly consumed. Is philosophy a tender trap?
Consider a nice example of a tender trap in Dennett's lecture, the Japanese tea ceremony. This ancient tradition recruits girls from "good" families to become officiants at the ceremony; this training takes years, and consists of several levels. Only a small subset of these girls go on to become teachers themselves . On the face of it, joining looks very attractive: it brings honor to the family, and it is a proper and noble profession (the tender trap), but once in, it is difficult to get out. Most women do not attain teacher status and get disillusioned. But given the connection with the family and the intricate web of social relationships, combined with years of training and practice that is hardly fitted for any other job, what alternative career paths are open to these accomplished women?
Dennett also considered atheist clergy. Each of the atheist pastors who were interviewed by Dennett's co-author Linda LaScola (paper here) started out with noble intentions. They were good listeners, possessed a kind, altruistic disposition, and had a keen interest in religion. Ministry fits those dispositions perfectly (the tender trap) and seemed a perfect career choice at the time. For various reasons (e.g., one pastor read the bible back to back, years after he was ordained, and was shocked by its contents) some clergy grow disenchanted, but by that time they cannot back out of it. For one thing, they are, like the tea ceremony officiants, overspecialized, with a degree in theology and years of experience largely or exclusively in ministry. There is also the social stigma and family issues. The interviewed pastors in Dennett and DeScola's study were terribly lonely, sometimes even unable to tell their (still very religious) partners about their change of heart, and invariably expressed gratitude to the interviewer that they were finally able to confide in someone.
I was wondering if the tender trap metaphor could be extended to philosophy and other academic disciplines that have at best indirect market value on the job market. Most philosophers probably start out with a deep commitment and passion for their profession. But as years go by, untenured philosophers may start to question whether their love for philosophy justifies the years of VAP-positions with heavy teaching load (mainly in the US), short postdoc contracts on projects written out by other scholars (the situation for many European postdocs), even pro-rata teaching positions of only a few months (a UK phenomenon) and a heavy debt incurred at graduate school that they cannot pay off because the wages are low (especially in the US, but also elsewhere). I hasten to add that, although I am untenured, I have had the good fortune of always being in research-oriented positions with light teaching duties, and that, up to now, I have been in a position to do the research I want to do, but this is not the case for many untenured people.
Philosophers, especially in unattractive temp positions, might be "trapped". They become so overspecialized in everything academia (including, indeed, the art of "schmoozing") that the regular job market doesn't seem to be a realistic option anymore--e.g., what value would a teaching dossier have for a regular company? I have seen people quit philosophy who did find fulfilling jobs elsewhere (one is now working for a private company, making three times as much as an assistant professor), but this road is difficult and risky, especially if you have been a philosopher for years. I know several people subsequently quit their even less satisfying and poorly paid non-philosophy job and went back into the maelstrom of temp positions.
In fairness, philosophers who might be disillusioned by all this do not experience the social stigma of, say, ex-clergy. But still, we need to make graduate students more aware that academia may a tender trap, as has been mentioned before on this blog. I have had bright young students telling me my courses inspired them, and that they think of enrolling in the graduate program. It is great to be able to attract good people; and in some cases we may even plant the seed of the idea to become a professional philosopher ("your papers are so strong, and you're one of my top students, have you considered a PhD?") There is nothing wrong with active recruitment, but, even if the prospective graduate student has a passion for philosophy, I think she has a right to know what she is up against. Maybe it doesn't make much difference for what people eventually decide (I for one would have still gone ahead). But it is better to know these things in advance than to gradually come to realize them.
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