When I was a younger scholar, a very famous cognitive psychologist
came to my office to visit me during his colloquium trip to my
university. I mentioned with pride that I had just written a new
textbook in cognitive psychology. His quick response was, “Bob, you’re
not a cognitive psychologist anymore.”
I was deeply hurt. I had been trained in cognitive psychology by some
of the top scholars in the field and always had thought of myself as
their protégé. True, I had strayed and done some research on love. What I
did not realize was that this straying from the tried and true path
would lead to my expulsion from my academic tribe. Like many academics, I
always had been a tribal outcast in the public schools because of my
interest in intellectual pursuits. Here I had finally found a tribe that
would have me, and they seemed not to want me anymore!
I use the term “tribe” to refer to a group of people who are united
by customs, tradition, and adherence to a largely common worldview.
Others have viewed academics as tribal. Hazard Adams wrote a
lighthearted book about tribalism among academics. Tony Becher and Paul
Trowler wrote a serious academic work about it. As those works point
out, academics often think and act in a tribal manner, although they
might not perceive themselves that way. The problem with tribalism is
that it interferes with the academic mission.
Limiting of self-actualization. Tribalism limits the
realization of one’s own potential by limiting the scope of problems
one allows oneself to pursue. For example, as long as I viewed myself as
a strict “cognitive psychologist,” I was limited in what I could study.
Once I freed myself of my tribal affiliation, I could study whatever I
wanted to. And I did!
Uniformity of point of view. A widely shared point
of view can lead to an inability or unwillingness to consider other
perspectives. South Sudan no sooner declared independence from the rest
of Sudan than tribes within the new country, the Nuer, Murle, and Dinka,
starting fighting among one another. In academe, tribes form within and
across disciplines, and have trouble seeing why anyone would see things
another way. In psychology, scientists and practitioners often have
trouble speaking with one another because of their adherence to their
own point of view, emphasizing either scientific inquiry or helping
clients. In some English departments, there is a similar tension between
traditional literary scholars and creative writers. In each case,
particular approaches come to be seen, falsely, as mutually exclusive.
Distrust of outsiders. When I visited an American
Indian reservation in which two mutually hostile tribes had been placed
together by the American government, I was struck by the two tribes’
distrust of each other, even though they had lived on the same
reservation for many years. We see that kind of tribalism in academics’
tendency to disparage those who think differently: scientists’
suspicions about humanists and vice versa; academic departments’
suspicion about the athletic department and vice versa. Even different
tribes within a department can be wary of one another, such as
zoologists and botanists in some biology departments. Instead of
perceiving certain approaches to be complementary, a not-so-hidden
disdain and sense of rejection often prevail.
Hiring and promotion wars. When multiple tribes
coexist within a department, they often battle for resources. In my
administrative experience, I have seen hiring and promotion wars between
tribes that make it difficult for either side to get its way: between
French and Spanish factions of modern-language departments; between
theoretical and experimental physicists; and between quantitative and
qualitative methodologists in sociology. Even graduate-student slots may
be bitterly contested. The result can be that a department is held back
because each tribe is so intent on making sure that it, not its
competition, gets additional slots.
Rejection of interdisciplinarity. Perhaps even worse
than being a member of another tribe can be a scholar’s attempt to be a
member of multiple tribes. I saw junior faculty members try, without
success, to stay out of a war in a philosophy department between
Continental rationalists and British empiricists—they were almost forced
to choose sides. I also have seen scholars who engage in
interdisciplinary work being rejected by both disciplines because the
academics are seen as good for only half the slot they are occupying,
thereby “wasting” the other valuable half-slot. Academics may end up
praising interdisciplinarity as long as it does not take away valuable
positions from their tribe.
Transmission of a tribal value system to students. I
took a course on abnormal psychology from a behaviorist. The engaging
professor had little good to say about Freudians. I had trouble, as I
suspect other students did, separating out the professor’s tribal
viewpoint from “the truth.” Similarly, in one of my analytical
philosophy courses, the professor regularly disparaged rationalist
philosophers. When tribalism passes from one generation of students to
the next, it continues to reinforce strongly categorical ways of
thinking that prevent students from seeing how different approaches to
problems can be useful in tandem or even when melded.
Tribalism does little good for academe other than giving academics a
sense of belonging and affiliation. We all like to belong, but academics
need to embrace intellectual inclusion rather than exclusionary ways of
thinking.
Robert J. Sternberg is a professor of human development at
Cornell University. He is a former president of the American
Psychological Association and of the Federation of Associations in
Behavioral and Brain Sciences. He also has been a university dean,
provost, and president.
http://www.chronicle.com/blogs/conversation/2014/02/26/academic-tribalism/
1 comment:
I used to think that academics were open-minded, having access to so much knowledge and the resources by which to acquire it.
Not any more. It seems that once one enters the ivory tower, a wall around the building is erected, preventing new ideas from entering, lest they contaminate what has come to be regarded as sacred and unchanging. (There are numerous examples of similar situations throughout history and present-day academe is just one more.)
Defence and maintenance of that wall is paramount and, if anyone inside becomes infected with one of those new ideas, that person must be cast into the outer darkness (being figuratively heaved over the wall), converted back to the accepted orthodoxy or forced to recant. Again, one can think of instances like this in the past, so what academe is doing is nothing new.
Along being isolated from the outside universe, one is constantly being indoctrinated with "right thinking". Dissent from the norm is rarely tolerated, never accepted, and often harshly dealt with.
Rather than encouraging legitimate discussion and debate or the acquisition of new knowledge, academe rewards becoming intellectually root-bound.
With that in mind, why would any rational thinking person ever want to be an academic?
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