BY AARON BARLOW
What’s with our disdain for age? I felt it myself for a bit in the sixties, that “don’t trust anyone over thirty” nonsense. But I got over it—even before I got old myself. The people who were influencing me most back then, I realized, were even older than my ancient parents who, by the end of the sixties, were both (heavens!) in their forties.
One of my favorite professors in college was close to eighty; another was pushing seventy. Later, when I lived in West Africa, I noted a greater respect for age than I had been seeing at home. Le vieux and la vieille were people turned to for advice, people whose experience trumped even their possibly failing faculties. They were treated well–not like at home.
Too many of my fellow Americans, unfortunately, don’t seem to have had that advantage of learning from the elderly—they surely haven’t learned the value of age. At least, they dismiss its wisdom. In The Washington Post, Robert Zaretsky, himself a professor in his mid-sixties writing about getting us old folk out of the academy, says:
Clearly, the American Association of University Professors has no more plans than the Democratic National Committee to propose even a voluntary mandatory retirement age. Yet, with the futures of the academy and democracy equally at stake, my generation needs to think as carefully as possible whether the time has come to turn the helm over to the next generation. If wisdom comes with experience, we are surely wise enough to find ways to retire while continuing to share our knowledge.
Putting aside the oxymoronic “voluntary mandatory,” this scolding of those of my generation who, like me, have passed 65, is grievously misplaced. Not only does it seem to want us to stop teaching while continuing to teach, but it implies that we are somehow responsible for the “downfall” of the academy. Hell, even of democracy. Earlier on, Zaretsky has made this explicit, tying the plight of adjuncts and contingent hires to the refusal of us geezers to get out of the way and also somehow blaming us for the fall in the numbers of humanities majors.
There are more adjuncts because administrators don’t want to hire more full-timers and not because we older profs are hogging the road. Our retiring won’t change that situation or even put a dent in it (there are half the number of full-time professors, percentage-wise, today than there were a generation ago—a fact that has nothing to do with professorial age). The barrier to full-time employment is not faculty who refuse to retire but administrators who refuse to hire.
The dropping interest in the humanities can’t be blamed on us either: it stems from cultural changes beyond campus walls. We can do something to help change that, but doing so will require the involvement of all faculty, not just the old.
Last year, my last as Faculty Editor of Academe, I selected and edited Margaret Morganroth Gullette’s “The Monument and the Wrecking Crew,” an essay I wish Zaretsky had read before popping off in the Post. Gullette writes:
And with the loss of respected elders comes the increasing proletarianization of faculties, the weakening of faculty governance over curriculum, and the loss of the protections and standards that made teaching attractive to generations of brilliant and dedicated people, however poorly paid in comparison with other professionals. Some data suggest that graduation rates drop where adjunctification rises. The most highly endowed colleges and universities will remain great, but only if they decide to keep more of the tenured and the responsibilities that tenure ensures—and thus the life-course values it indirectly but powerfully conveys.
Gullette has much more to say about this issue: read her and then look at Zaretsky. You will easily identify a number of the reasons why his comments make me roll my eyes and slap my forehead.
Another is my own experience. Since turning 65 a year-and-a-half ago, I have edited and co-authored books now in the production process. I have written book chapters, some published, some also awaiting print. I have also written book reviews, an op-ed for a major newspaper and an article for a professional, non-academic journal—in addition to my duties for Academe. Right now, I am in the middle of composing an 8,000-word chapter along with two books. I have written some 150 blog posts since turning 65, totaling perhaps 150,000 words. Like many humanities professors my age, I am doing as much writing as my younger colleagues–more than most.
At the same time, I have refocused my teaching activities toward First Year Composition, where I see the greatest need for creative and innovative approaches. Each semester, I change how I teach as I, along with others in my department, explore means of improving the ways we meet the needs of an evolving student population.
Yes, over the past few years, I have had to change the way I do things, taking into account the fact that I have neither the physical energy nor the strength of earlier days. And, yes, I have slowed down. But a slower pace has not devalued my contribution. I am a better teacher now than I ever was—even though I am wiped out for an hour or two after back-to-back 75-minute classes. And I have more to offer to our ongoing effort to improve my department’s performance than ever before.
There is, of course, plenty of dead wood in academia. But it is not restricted to those of us who can no longer climb five flights of stairs without a struggle. There are adjuncts and assistant professors who contribute a lot less to the students in their classes than we older professors do. There are quite a number of associate professors more intent on making ‘full’ than on contributing to their fields and departments—and who accomplish less with more fanfare than the little that surrounds those of us who no longer have to worry about being noticed.
Though our presence is not quite as high-profile as that of younger strivers, to push me and others my age out, even “voluntarily,” would be a grievous loss to our institution–and particularly to our students. Rather than being in anyone’s way, we are a contributing part of a faculty whose strength increases along with its diversity, including diversity of age.
Did you read that article in The Atlantic about “your work peak is earlier than you think?” 🙂
More seriously, I guess I have three thoughts (and in the interest of full disclosure, I’m 53):
* I think there is a bit of truth to the argument that aging/holding-on faculty makes it more difficult to hire new faculty on the tenure track (and thus making the adjunct problem worse), but only a small bit of truth. The larger problem is administrators not being able or willing to commit the resources it takes to hire someone forever. This can take us down a different tangent about the pros and cons of tenure, but that’s a different issue. The point is I think you are mostly right here.
* I would be okay with a federally mandatory retirement age (let’s say 72, just to pick a number), but only if a) there was a commitment from the government to beef up the financial/health care support for those who are required to retire, and b) this mandatory retirement age applied to everyone, including politicians. I think that could actually have some very good across the board benefits.
* I have somewhere around 15-20 years to go, but when I think about retirement, I vacillate between two different poles. On the one hand, I think “retire from what?” I mean, being a professor isn’t a job that requires physical labor, and I’ve gotten to a place financially and professionally where I can afford to not work at all in the summers and to have a fairly “leisurely” schedule even during the school year. On the other hand, there are always moments during the semester– particularly in about March or April– when the academic politics are so distasteful and/or I’m looking through a stack of student work (that’s a metaphor since I haven’t actually collected paper from students in like a decade or more) that needs to be read and during those moments, I sometimes wonder if I could find a way to retire RIGHT NOW!
I have to think the real tipping point for people who think like me (and I don’t know if Zaretsky talks about this or not) is health care and money, particularly money. I mean, I think TIAA is pretty good and it will allow me a good retirement, but it’s all tied to market forces, that could all change in either direction. And if I won the lottery, I’d retire immediately.
My wife might force me to retire, were I to win the lottery, but I’d do it unwillingly.
The idea of a mandatory retirement age is akin to “non-renewal” of long-term NTT faculty for any reason whatsoever in this sense: it is about administrators controlling budgets to suit themselves and managing both governance and academic freedom for those who are the primary service providers of those absolutely essential values in American higher ed. It is why higher ed is in so much trouble–we have ceded control to those whose vision is primarily corporporate and self-serving. Aaron Barlow, thanks for continuing to tell it like it is. I have missed your frequent posts on the Academe blog. We need your voice, more than ever.
Thank you. I have a feeling I will be posting more frequently again….
Aaron – Thank you for your comments above. Frankly I am wearying of the political commentary that is generation-based, and as I read Zaretsky’s editorial this morning, I was aghast. After two successful careers I went back to school to earn my undergraduate degrees, an MA, and am currently a doctoral student nearing that goal. I should be 68 when I complete my PhD, and plan to continue to teach. I went back to school because, for me, teaching at the university level was one of those “unchecked” boxes. My degrees are in Political Science and American Studies, and I teach both as an adjunct. My classes are far more face to face discussion than lectures – so there are no yellowing notes laying around.
I pursued this direction because I find so much lacking in the American electorate in the way of critical thinking skills. This translates to students that think Hawaii became a state in 2000, or that Pearl Harbor happened during the Vietnam War. While younger academics may be pursuing less well traveled paths (because you have to find a niche between the literature), they don’t necessarily want to mentor, or even read outside of those narrow constraints. The “long view” that comes with our age cannot be undervalued, despite what Zaretsky has to say.
Because of multiple retirements,teaching as an adjunct suits me fine, although I can understand the insecurity that it causes in my peers, but the real problem is 2019’s version of keeping up with the Joneses. My campus has three times the administrative staff that it had ten years ago, yet is always short on faculty. The last big expenditure was not for classrooms (we still have several “temporary’ trailers that should have been gone long ago), faculty, dorms, or technology, but rather, a student enrichment center replete with one floor devoted to pool tables. It is all about money and profitability – even in non-profits – and competing for student dollars. Non-retirement of faculty is not the problem.
Good for you, Steven Lee! I began my college-teaching career at 53, so I have an inkling of what you have experienced.
I don’t think there should be an inflexible mandatory retirement age for teaching. But I do believe we need more incentives to get older faculty to leave while they are still able to walk out — both carrots and sticks.
For example, anyone over 70 (who will undoubtedly be collecting Social Security) does not need to have any further payments made to his/her retirement plan from the institution. And anyone over 65 should be off the school’s medical plan in favor of Medicare. There could be some offers of part time teaching (maybe a favorite course) for a few years after “retirement”. Or maybe tenure should end at 65 and be replaced by “rolling tenure” where you have a few years of guaranteed employment but are evaluated rigorously each year to have the tenure rolled over. And then there is always the buyout!
When I was in college and grad school (and high school), most of my really bad professors were either very old or really young. The younger ones should have been fired and the older ones induced to retire.
Another thing that would help get people to leave would be to give much more decision making authority to younger teachers and administrators. I attended too many faculty meetings where interesting ideas of millennials were systematically shot down by their elders — “we tried that 20 years ago and it didn’t work” — “we’re doing an excellent job now so why should be change?” And older people, even though they can use social media, smartphones, etc., really don’t understand the potential.
Remember when older teachers refused to use email or even accept papers from word processors? That damn spellcheck and cut and paste was just bad for development of writing skills! Remember when math teachers refused to let kids use calculators? These damn kids will never be able to interpolate log tables! Of course no one will admit to any of this now but we all know it happened.
Bringing new ideas and innovation into education has always been difficult — but it is most difficult when older teachers have much of the control.
Full disclosure: I am 76 and retired at 72 probably a bit late.
I am trying to figure out why your response is so full of ageism, g-dawg. Perhaps misery lives company? Thank you for not including “career death panels.” Not all 72-yr-olds “really don’t understand the potential” of technology. Nor do they all shoot down the interesting ideas of millenials. You may have been ready to quit, and good for you for doing so, but why advocate for forcible retirements for others? Sorry, I am close to your age, but I mostly disagree with your POV. Senior faculty have a responsibility to mentor the next generation of faculty and deserve respect if their teaching record is strong, as many of ours are.
Well said, Jane Harty.
Sorry, misery “loves” company, not “lives.” So much for smartphones.
I disagree about older people understanding the potential of technology — not just using it, but innovating, combining and reinventing ways to learn. I am not really talking about myself here. I am actually reasonably good at doing this but I have learned so much from younger faculty. If we stay we have to accept the role of mentee as well as mentor. It is a lot like learning a new language at 50 and comparing yourself to a native speaker — both people equally intelligent. There are times when the perspective of a seasoned teacher is important but there are also times when you just have to let go and try something new.
Maybe not all older teachers shoot down the ideas of millennials but certainly a lot do. If you don’t believe me, try looking at faculty meetings from this perspective and see what you come up with.