As J. Walter Wilson turned into pandemonium when anxious students queued to get tickets for John Krasinski '01 and Harvard students flocked to catch a glimpse of dropout Mark Zuckerberg the week before, it once again became apparent that celebrity attracts as much attention on Ivy League campuses as any other place. The infusion of celebrity in the academy also extends to the educational level. While this has certain benefits for the visibility — and also for the curriculum in most cases — of a school, the value awarded to status and fame when deciding who to hire risks instilling wrong expectations in students, who might see a shortcut in popular appeal or even provocativeness.
The mix between university and fame is not always an easy one. While well-known students might have to deal with eager admirers following them around campus, for professors, it can be an equally mixed blessing — it might attract more students to class, but it is also harder to be taken seriously for one's academic work or to convince others that academic merit rather than glamor or appeal brought on the appointment.
But in some instances, as several people at home in academia noted, scholars also actively seek celebrity to improve their bargaining position. In one astonishing case, an assistant professor at the University who had gained traction via much-debated statements in mainstream publications was hired as a full professor by another university, skipping the step of associate professor entirely. Courting controversy equaled celebrity, leading to a significant increase in status and pay.
The discussion started in one of my graduate seminars, where the merit of titles such as "What Was African American Literature?" by Kenneth Warren and "Why I Love Black Women" by Michael Dyson came under scrutiny. Are these titles inspired by the need to adequately encompass the content or by the desire to satisfy a bookseller's adage that "the best book is a book that sells"?
Of course, the two motives cannot be separated as easily, but the tension is undeniable. A provocative and bold statement or question is more likely to be picked up by those outside of the academy, but also more open to criticism from intellectuals in the same field who will be able to give a nuanced assessment of the argument. And often the titles are much more vexing than the books themselves, which also points to an increasing tendency to overstate or simplify to stand out.
Of course, there are many forms of celebrity within academia, often innocent enough. The question is whether he or she is a prominent academic for his or her scholarly work, an academic celebrity who has more news coverage than book titles or a celebrity-turned-academic? For this coming spring semester, the professors seem to fall into the first category. The University will have courses taught by Patrick Kennedy, David Rhode '90 and long-time faculty member Chinua Achebe. All three are well-known and esteemed in their respective fields, and the fact that they will heighten the University's profile is a mere added bonus ("High profile, high prestige: U. courts celebrity profs," Sept. 22).
But the rise of the academic celebrity is not without problems. With a significant shortage of academic jobs and hundreds of graduates applying to the same vacancies — let alone tenure-track opportunities — a problem exacerbated by the economic downturn, standing out is crucial. To get noticed by potential employers, publications in popular magazines or newspapers that come up when your name is typed into Google can seem very appealing. But to start the discussion, it is necessary to popularize or mainstream the academic content so that it becomes understandable and attractive for a wide audience, and it is here that many cross the line from verifiability into controversy.
Several graduate students indicated that they believe university presses will favor something that will spark discussion. While they are often subsidized, they indeed still seek to publish a few books a year that will transcend the microcosm of academia and reach an audience beyond the few hundred scholars that will be interested in it for professional reasons. To this extent, a catchy title, topic or a well-known name on the cover will do wonders. But the majority of books published still adhere to traditional academic standards.
The misperception of the graduate students can thus be said to be a direct result from the high visibility of celebrity or controversial publications. This is when the academic celebrity becomes a dangerous phenomenon: The perceived state of the academic world by the students no longer corresponds to reality, which could lead to a rise in work that favors the potential to sell over originality.
This is not to say that celebrity and academia cannot or should not mix. Honorary degrees and the presence of renowned faculty members enrich debates and learning. It is to say that academia should not turn into another Academy Awards, in which marketing often takes precedence over quality. Independent productions might not reach the largest audience, but they are no less inspiring — rather the opposite.
Suzanne Enzerink GS is a master's student in American studies and very much enjoyed John Krasinski's '01 talk.
