This post was originally sent to paid subscribers only. I’m re-releasing it now for everyone, with minor edits. I hope it’s useful as the academic interview season begins.
It’s been a while since I had to deal with an academic interview. I got hired by the University of Toronto in 2020, but the process was a strange one because of the pandemic. The last time I was really interviewed for an academic job was when I was hired by Yale, and that was long ago—The Matrix had just come out.
But I’ve been on the other side of the process—interviewing prospective graduate students and prospective professors—about a billion times. I give two main pieces of advice to my students who apply to graduate school or academic jobs, and I will share them with the world now.
First, do research ahead of time on whoever you are going to see and be ready to talk to them about their work. (If they don’t send you a schedule of who you’re meeting with, ask for it.) Google whoever you will talk to, check out their websites, and skim some of their recent papers. Do the same for everyone you’re joining over breakfast, lunch, and dinner, even if you don’t have one-on-one meetings with them. Do this for all the professors you’ll meet—and also for all of the postdocs and graduate students. Then, think of things to say about their work when you see them. 1
I would have thought that this is all obvious, but apparently, it isn’t. There have been many times when someone walked into my office (or popped onto my Zoom screen) for a thirty-minute interview, and they had absolutely no idea who I am or what I do. Now, this is hardly a deal-breaker. My ego isn’t that fragile, and I’m willing to do the normal interview thing of asking them questions about their work and their future plans. It’s all okay.
But it’s such a lost opportunity on their part. Doing research ahead of time has at least three advantages.
It’s charming. When you spontaneously ask professors about their recent papers, mention some initiatives they are involved in, or hint at a potential collaboration, it will gladden their hearts. They will be chuffed that you’ve heard of their work; it’s a nice boost to their egos. Or they will assume that you have read up on them for this interview, and that’s nice, too—it’ll mean something to them that you’ve made an effort.
I was once interviewing a very accomplished senior professor—more accomplished than me, for sure—for a job at Yale. We had never met before, but when he walked into my office, he was bursting to talk to me about papers I wrote and projects I was involved in. Did I know he must have read up on me before the meeting? Yes. Was I still charmed and flattered? Yes. Great meeting? Yes. Did we offer him the job? Yes! (Did he turn us down? Sadly, yes.)
It makes the meetings more enjoyable. Interviews aren’t usually fun. The whole “So tell me about your research” (faculty interviews) or “So tell me about the work you did as an undergraduate” (graduate student interviews) is stressful on both sides—mostly for the person being interviewed, of course, but also for the interviewer. So switch it up a bit. Yes, you’re likely to be talking about your work—it’s almost certain for graduate student interviews because the professors will want to see if you can talk intelligently about the research you’ve done—but it’s best if this is in the context of a conversation (In general, Conversation > Interview; see my How to Be a Good Podcast Guest.)
Remember that the professor will already have read up on who you are and what research you do—and, for a faculty interview, will usually have heard your talk. So the purpose of this meeting isn’t information transfer. It’s to get a sense of the person you are—are you someone they would be happy to have in their department? There’s a better chance of getting to a “yes” when there’s more to a meeting than a one-sided Q&A.
It’s hardly time wasted. If you end up at the place, it’s worthwhile knowing about your colleagues or teachers. If you end up getting offers from multiple places and have to make a decision, these conversations will help you decide. And even if nothing works out, talking to people about what interests them can be fun and interesting and might be a launching pad for later collaborations and friendships.
Just to be clear, this sort of preparation is not a substitute for being ready to discuss your own work. You should come to the interviews very prepared to describe your research and answer questions about it. (If you’re an undergraduate applying to graduate schools, have your advisor or one of your lab mates do a series of pretend interviews until you sound smooth and smart.) And, for faculty candidates, you should also give a kick-ass talk—for suggestions, see my How to Give a Better-than-Average talk.
But also be ready to discuss the work of the people you’re meeting with. This can turn perfectly fine interviews into terrific ones.
Second, and I’m sorry, but this will be cynical—trust nobody. When you are interviewing, you are always on.
For every faculty search and graduate student recruitment I've been involved with, I talk afterward to current graduate students, usually my own, who have met with the candidate. Sometimes, I seek out the students, but often, they come to see me—reasonably enough, they want to give their feedback. It matters to them who is joining their department.
Often, they give me information that the candidate probably didn’t want a member of the search committee or graduate admissions committee to hear. Like: “He told me that we’re his bottom choice” (for a graduate student applicant) or “She didn’t seem very interested in hearing about our work” (for a faculty visit). On one occasion, a prospective graduate student didn’t get the nod because of bad behavior at a party with other graduate students. On another occasion, a colleague of mine voted against someone because he heard from a secretary that the candidate was rude to her.
I’m sure everyone reading this is a mensch. But even mensches relax a bit when they’re out of the pressure cooker of formal interviews, and they disclose things and talk shit about people. Resist that temptation. Again, I’m sorry to say it, but you need to assume that everything you say will be discussed in the room where the committee makes its final decision. You’re always on.
I’ll end on a positive note. Nobody finds these things enjoyable; it is unpleasant to try to impress people to give you something you want. And yet. You’re visiting a department where you get to talk to smart people, learn about their work, and get their feedback on your ideas. If you can savor this just a bit and forget that every moment they’re judging you and comparing you to other candidates, this can be an intellectually exhilarating experience.
Good luck!
A friend who read an earlier draft asked: How do you research someone? This could be its own post, but here are some suggestions: Focus on new work and on papers where the person is the first or last author. (Some academics are middle authors on projects they barely know about, let alone care about.) The questions you ask don’t have to be sharp and specific—showing some knowledge of a project and asking, “Where do you plan to take this next?” is great. Don’t restrict yourself to journal articles. Maybe the person is most excited about a new course they’re planning, a research initiative they’re setting up, or a textbook they’ve just published.
What do you do, my friend asked, if you look at the webpage and this person works on technical stuff that you find unreadable? Well, that’s a toughie. You can just leave it alone and talk about your own work, but one idea here is that you fess up to your ignorance and say something like: “I know you work in the area of [incredibly arcane stuff]. I don’t know much about that field, but I’m curious about where it’s going and what the most interesting directions are.” Who knows, maybe you’ll discover it’s not so boring after all.
Take notes as you do your research. Keep them on your phone so you can glance at them as you walk from one meeting to another or when you go to the bathroom.
I've got a meta question about advice like this. Given that hiring/admissions are generally zero sum, what's the point of giving it? To the extent that someone benefits by reading it (eg, they avoid a faux pas that would have cost them an offer), somebody else loses out just as much (the person who would've gotten the offer).
Maybe you feel a personal connection to your readers; you'd rather your readers get offers than the people they're competing against. That strikes me as pretty natural, and probably the best way to understand the common practice of offering advice on the internet about how to win zero sum competitions. But I'm not sure, and would be curious for your take.
I think Paul’s advice is very transferrable to every day situations! If one is interested in someone and asks questions and knows somethings about them or their subject matter or inquires into such information the conversation will probably evolve into something memorable. People laugh at me because I usually go to a place a day or two before to check out the environment before my meeting or interview. It’s like boots on the ground. It’s self directed orientation. I was once researching Loblaw‘s as a company and I wondered about their turnover rate of employees? So I did a site visit. I went to the meals to go counter and placed a small order. I asked the clerk how long people stay to work at Loblaw‘s on average and what the turnover rate was like? The clerk answered I don’t know, “I just started today”! I smiled and thanked them for their service…. As Professor Nick Epley of the University of Chicago Booth School of Business would advocate - practice doing cold calls!