Faculty should continue to find ways of being strategic in service obligation selection, especially as labor shifts from in-office to at-home.

I remember when I was in grad school, one of the assistant professors who was very close to submitting her tenure file had a sign on her door that said “Just Say No.” I asked her about the sign, to which she said that it was a not-so-subtle reminder to turn down service obligations, even those that were seemingly valuable. She needed to focus her efforts on her research. We continued to chat about how many times pre-tenure faculty members are asked to do service. That conversation stuck with me as I started my own journey toward tenure.

I was lucky to enter an academic department that did more than just say “don’t worry, you’re protected against undue service pre-tenure.” My department genuinely supported me in being selective with service. However, the offers still came and it became increasingly more difficult to say “No” to well-meaning folks on campus who had asked me to participate in what I believed was useful service. Every time that a major service obligation came along, I saw that sign in the back of my head…the one that read “Just say no.” But, as many of my colleagues can attest to…it was hard to put those words into practice.

This might be a good time to point out that I have had an incredible amount of privilege so that I can say “no.” Sure, some of that privilege was slightly diminished pre-tenure (although I can’t think of anyone not earning tenure at my institution for doing too little service); however, it still existed. My colleagues who were not on the tenure track, who were BIPOC, or in any other way were not as privileged as I am have truly faced a more challenging time saying no. (read Patricia Matthew’s piece for The Atlantic in 2016 describing the “invisible labor” done by so many scholars of color). Indeed, Helene Meyers sums up the double-bind that many faculty face with respect to service in her 2018 piece on Faculty Service and Exploitation in The Chronicle of Higher Education,

Like housework, academic service is often feminized, devalued, unpaid, and invisible labor, even as it keeps our institutions functional. Simultaneously, service work can be a means of obtaining professional and cultural capital on a campus.

Helene Meyers, March 14, 2018, Chronicle of Higher Education

When thinking about the service that I do (both on my campus and for my discipline), I regularly consider if the service is going to be meaningful (both for me and for the group that I am providing service). For me, academic service is not a one-way street.

Let me just take a quick detour here — I really do believe that there is a fundamental difference between the kind of service that academics do as part of their contractual obligations (for me, it constitutes 20% of my regular evaluation scores) and volunteer service that we do to better our communities and the world. While these two things can (and often) intersect, I am really talking only about the former type of service, as the later is often excluded from academic evaluation —

My ardent belief is that academic service should provide something to the group being served AND to the person serving. Indeed, my best service experiences have been those that have enriched me as a scholar, connected me more to the university community, and/or have given me the ability to move my own research into embodied praxis.

Recently, I was serving on our campus’ Human Subjects Committee. I enjoyed this work, as it provided me an opportunity to explore the wide-range of scholarship on campus and I felt very connected to my campus’ research community. However, it was a lot of work — often, I was reviewing up to six applications per week. The full IRB only meets every quarter. During one of those meetings, I had proposed a solution to a complex problem that I was facing in my own research (and something that I had proposed to the IRB). I was dismissed by our IRB Administrator and was asked to leave the room by the chair while the rest of the group deliberated. The end result was that the IRB continued their (IMHO) antiquated policy and my idea was dismissed. I resigned shortly thereafter. In my discussion with the chair after my resignation, he asked if I had resigned because I didn’t get the “answer I was looking for.” I kindly informed him that the IRB wanted my labor (by reviewing applications), but didn’t seem interested in my more substantive contribution to update IRB policies (read: they wanted me to do the work and keep my mouth shut). My resignation from the IRB was no more than me stating that the service obligation had no longer remained meaningful. I found another place on campus to provide meaningful service.

I was given some good advice when I started my job — (a) to set a specific amount of time each month for service obligations, (b) to check with at least two other trusted colleagues before accepting any service obligations, and (c) to feel comfortable saying no. My department chair even gave me permission to use his name when I said no (as in, “the department chair has told me that I need to focus my service to the department, so I won’t be able to provide service to you…”). I have given this same advice to others.

As campuses around the country have moved to potentially permanent virtual operations this coming academic year, setting boundaries may become more and more challenging. Already overburdened faculty (especially those who have child or family care responsibilities) have expressed how difficult working from home really is. In spite of these known challenges, the requests for service will still come. In fact, I suspect that there will be more “opportunities” for service, given that most academic are working remotely. It’s also quite easy for university administrators to exploit that portion of our labor — especially since the perception might be that the service obligations are easier without having to coordinate in-person meetings, travel to campus, etc. Faculty of all ranks must remain on guard against accepting too many of these seemingly one-off or fleeting service tasks. I know that the number of requests I’ve received to work with informal groups, participate in online forums, or help coordinate a committee have certainly increased in recent weeks.

Therefore, I propose that each “virtual” service obligation be evaluated exactly the same way as an on-campus obligation:

Individuals might consider the following when evaluating service requests:

• How does this service fit into your portfolio of service? Consider plotting out all your existing service obligations to see how anything new fits.
• Have you decided on how much time you want to devote to service during this academic term? Will this request fit within your allotted time?
• Will this service task require you to meet during off-hours or can you be guaranteed that meetings will take place only during specific working hours?
• Do you believe that this service will be meaningful?
• Is this a one-time service request or is it on-going? If on-going, is there a set end date?
• How much additional labor will you need to perform beyond the meeting time? For instance, Rank and Tenure committees tend to be far more involved, given the amount of material that one must read.
• Guard your research time! It’s quite easy for service obligations to encroach on research (hardly on teaching time, since that is typically more defined).
• Ask others — chat with trusted colleagues about any new obligation and get some realistic feedback.
• Practice saying “no.” Get comfortable with saying it and note that you have the right to decline service (in most cases).

Department Chairs should consider their impact on faculty labor, especially during these more challenging COVID times. I know many of us in academia regularly ask the question — did we really need to have that meeting? Department chairs would be best served to ask that question before calling the meeting itself.

One beneficial thing that my academic department does is that we start the year off with a grid of all of the (known) service tasks that need to be accomplished for the year. We then fill them in together with individuals self-nominating to certain tasks. Doing so in such a public manner brings accountability into the process of assigning service and provides a mechanism to ensure that folks feel that service has been distributed equitably (or, at the very least, it opens up that conversation).

University Administrators must find a way to encourage campus conversations about what constitutes equitable distribution of academic service. While so many universities have clear teaching and research guidelines for promotion and tenure, service is usually rather nebulous. If service is an evaluated criterion for tenure and promotion decisions, further clarity must be developed about what constitutes “adequate” service. These discussions might go a long way in defining the service expectations for all ranks of faculty on campus.

Ultimately, I am calling for more discussion and transparency around service obligations. The academy celebrates research and teaching accomplishments — labor that is visible. However, so much of our service work is done in an invisible manner. The risk of excessive service obligations is even more apparent in a virtual environment as service becomes more invisible. Now, potentially more than ever, it’s important to be strategic with service commitments and be ready to Just Say No.