The Model of Academic Celebrity Disappointment

Colin Kutchyera, PhD Student

Lakehead University

Figure 1. Model of Academic Celebrity Disappointment. Image by Colin Kutchyera.

The idea of “Academic Celebrities” is weird to me. Academics don’t get music videos and album covers, and most don’t cultivate a social media following with no shirts/low-cut tops and gym mirror selfies (yet…). Maybe I haven’t really thought of scholars in this light because words and ideas aren’t really sexy. Thousands of citations and a long CV of published works just doesn’t wow me the same way as being Batman does, respectfully.

While the idea seems odd to me, it’s clearly not as bizarre among my many peers of both aspiring and seasoned academics. Their definitions of academic celebrity might vary, but one common takeaway is that it’s often a terrible idea to meet them. But why? To answer this important research question, I interviewed some of my class chums and colleagues and analyzed the results to discover what appeared to be several main themes of disappointment. I’ve made sense of these themes by plotting their locations on a coordinate grid delineated by an X and Y axis of Narcissism and Awareness, respectively (Figure 1). Categories plotted in the four quadrants of what I call The Model of Academic Celebrity Disappointment are rationalized as follows:

1. The Snoozefest
   (Low Narcissism, Low Awareness)
   Some of us have a way with words, but that might depend on the medium. When we think about the unlimited amount of edits that a scholar has to perfectly craft their ideas and arguments, it’s not unreasonable to expect that some may not be able to replicate this when giving a presentation under stress and time constraints without the help of co-authors or several rounds of peer-review. There is also zero requirement for charisma when writing. Many scholars are, almost by definition, nerds. We don’t normally associate nerds with exciting and engaging speeches.
2. The Jerk
   (High Narcissism, Low Awareness)
   Consider the hours of work and dedication needed to become the expert. Selfish tendencies are often necessary to develop expertise. Being careful to make clear that my family is not to blame for my peon status within academia, I can only dream about how much further I’d be ahead if I simply ignored my wife’s needs and chose to be a neglectful father. Perhaps in poor taste to include Stephen Hawking under a subheading titled “The Jerk”, The Theory of Everything (2014), a docu-drama based on Jane Hawking’s memoir “Travelling to Infinity” (2007), emphasizes Dr. Hawking’s greatness and triumph over adversity, but simultaneously highlights his selfish and narcissistic behaviour. Given the internal ingredients that are often required to produce prolific researchers, should this category surprise anyone?
3. The Fallen Star
   (Low Narcissism, High Awareness)
   While many aspiring academics start off hungry, academia has a way of taking the shine out of stars. Shrinking budgets lead to expectations of academic staff to take on more and more (Noonan, 2015) while sacrificing program quality and student experience. Unsolicited emails from students seeking a supervisor, many who haven’t even bothered to look into your research background pile up. The collegial governance system within academia that relies on faculty to participate in decision making starts to shift to new managerialist rule and audit culture, eroding the academic freedom that is held onto so dearly. I’m barely halfway done with my PhD, and I’m already jaded.
4. The Deviant
   (High Narcissism, High Awareness)
   Collegial governance is designed to protect academic freedom and prevent curriculum decisions from being overtaken by free market capitalists, but anyone who has been to a few faculty council or senate meetings knows that it is much less effective at policing individual behaviour. The same social apparatuses and informal institutional expectations that allow sexual deviancy, grooming, and the inappropriate abuse of power and authority to obtain sex in places like Hollywood also exist in Academia. For example, the collective agreement for faculty in many universities protects professors who engage in sexual relationships with students so long as the relationship is “consensual.” While there’s a case to be made that restriction could violate academic freedom and labour law, and that the constant communication and collaboration between academics and students inevitably leads to deep, genuine interpersonal relationships, we cannot ignore the unchecked power dynamics that exist between professor and student/postdoc/mentee.

Most academics don’t pursue academia in hopes of fame. They just like to learn and share, an admirable form of altruism. However, altruism devalues the work that academics do and allows for exploitation, eroding the protection and freedom to participate in the collegial environment (Tennant, 2020). Up-and-coming academics share similar vulnerabilities to developing artists, musicians, and actors in their pursuit of breaking into pretentious, inclusive, and exploitative industries. Budding Musicians are expected to play for free, or even worse, pay to play. Academics are expected to review journals, pay to submit their work, and share it at conferences for the benefit of established professors. Actors who often live in or on the verge of poverty must rely on their sense of contribution to the greater good in order to maintain their identities (Cinque et al., 2021), ignoring the system that profits and preys on their labour. Academics are asked to do the same, but that’s okay! It’s all in the name of learning and knowledge — altruism indeed.

The similarities end when it comes to success. Academic stardom doesn’t hold the same kind of caché and the expectation of the far less glamorous collegial service never goes away. When a musician “makes it,” they would never be scoffed at for ignoring a request to play a free show or take on a low-paying gig when they are used to filling out stadiums. An actor walking down the red carpet would never be expected to stop and make time to take a picture with everyone watching from the sidelines or expected to sacrifice their family time to give mentorship to someone who approaches them. Are our academic celebrity expectations too unrealistic, or are The Snoozefest, The Jerk, The Fallen Star, and the Deviant all disappointments? It’s probably a bit of both, but if academia can’t create better systems than Hollywood, then we collectively deserve to be disappointed.

References

Cinque, S., Nyberg, D., Starkey, K. (2021). ‘Living at the border of poverty’: How theater actors maintain their calling through narrative identity work. Human Relations, 74(11), 1755–1780.

Hawking, J. (2007). Travelling to infinity: My life with Stephen. Alma Books.

Marsh, J. (Director). (2014). The theory of everything [Film]. Working Title Films.

Noonan, J. (2015). Thought-time, money-time, and the temporal conditions of academic freedom. Time & Society, 24(1), 109–128.

Tennant, J. (2020). Time to stop the exploitation of free academic labour. European Science Editing, 46, e51839.