Earlier this week, I wrote about the seemingly baffling fact that, despite a desolate academic job market, the number of new students enrolling in arts and humanities Ph.D. programs managed to grow by 7.7 percent from 2011 to 2012. Why, I wondered, haven't these programs collapsed along with their graduates' employment prospects in the ivory tower? After tossing out a few preliminary theories of my own, I asked readers to give me their thoughts. From terror at the overall economy to the financial motivations of the schools to the simple love of learning, commenters offered up ideas based on equal parts experience and thoughtful conjecture. I've collected some of my favorites below, some of which have been edited for length or typos.

"The job market is scary."

lebronjeremy: I graduated with a degree in political science and history, and I found employment in a call center, where I worked with 2 Holocaust deniers. The choice was clear: go back to school, or hang myself with my shoelaces while those two talked about how the Jews orchestrated 9/11.

grad2014: The job market is scary; I might as well delay by 2, 4, or 6 years to be paid to learn about what I love, before confronting the fact that I have no job prospects.

jseliger: I'm an ABD [all but dissertation] in English lit at the University of Arizona, and I noticed that most of my classmates, prior to enrolling, were either straight out of undergrad or another grad program, or had been working somewhat marginal jobs at bookstores, coffeeshops, and what not presumably for around $10 / hour. The U of A grad stipend pays about $20 / hour. That's still not a huge amount, given that it ranges from $14K – $ 17K or so, but supplemented with random work it's not insanely terrible. My reading is that many humanities grad students view grad school as a lottery ticket.

“You don't even hear how bad it is till you're stuck in the program.”

jroberts548: Law school is relevantly transparent. Law schools have inflated employment stats. Humanities grad programs have no employment stats. You don't even hear how bad it is till you're stuck in the program.

"Special Snowflake Syndrome"

FlightlessPigeon: As someone who dropped out of a (slightly more pragmatic than most) humanities PhD program, I think Special Snowflake Syndrome is the major factor. When you're the best in your department as an undergrad and all of your professors are acting as though you're the Chosen One to carry on the field, even if statistics tell you there are 200 applications for every tenure-track job opening, you're the best in your department; of course you'll be the best of those applications. It isn't until you're a full-fledged grad student that you realize that EVERY ONE of those 200 applications comes from someone who was once the best in their department. ETA case in point: when I was an undergrad, I DID sit around reading the warnings in the Chronicle of Higher Ed. Most PhD students in my class did. We all ended up in grad school anyway.

“No English lit department wants to commit seppuku”

cristobal: I'm inclined to downplay snowflake syndrome as a major source of longitudinal change, especially in the short-run, and emphasize economic factors. There just aren't automatic jobs for lib arts and humanities undergrads like there used to be, especially given the explosion in bachelor's attainment, so it's off to grad school. More easy loan money, legitimately postponed (un)employment, studying something you love, keeping your undergrad loans in grace... it's not the worst deal.



The asymmetry of info market failure isn't a big piece of this puzzle. PhD candidates are painfully well aware of the debt they're incurring. It's a major source of grad student humor and a huge component of the subculture.



None of the institutional actors- government or academic- have any incentive to cut back. They're making money and churning out more PhDs to perpetuate the academy while keeping aspiring profs clawing for adjunct spots. As for sound advice from professors, even the best academic mentors want to create students in their image to at least some degree, and no English lit department wants to commit seppuku out of a paternalistic impulse to save grad students from themselves.

Gerry Canavan: Given that applications were down 1.5% in the same period that enrollments were up 7.7%, the effect appears to be entirely on the admissions side. The natural hypothesis is that schools are admitting students they previously wouldn't have for tuition and/or cheap teaching labor.

jpsolus: Friends with TT [tenure track] jobs who have served on grad admissions committees have told me that their departments decide how many students to admit based on the projected TA need. For programs at less elite or financially strapped institutions, TAships are the only way to fund/pay grad students. Those institutions also lack the money to hire more TT faculty, so grad student TAs (and adjuncts/lecturers) compensate for the dearth of full-time faculty. If most PhD programs admitted only as many students as could get TT jobs, they'd accept hardly any new grad students.

“Perhaps there is simply an inverse ratio between how much a person loves something, and how carefully they consider the economic wisdom of pursuing it.”

BlueInGreen48: One to way to address this question is to ask why graduate programs in the performing arts exist, or ever have. Those job markets are always poor, no matter the state of the economy, because they are always hopelessly overcrowded with the overly hopeful. I didn't know a single student I went to drama school with who thought the job market was good, or ever would be. I remember turning to a classmate during graduation and saying, as our school's degrees were conferred (in Latin too), that we had just become unemployed actors. But we all thought we'd beat the odds. We thought this in a profession where the single most important thing is what you look like, and where a successful career means not finding one job, but hundreds, one after the other, for several decades. Perhaps there is simply an inverse ratio between how much a person loves something, and how carefully they consider the economic wisdom of pursuing it. lollardfish: I teach at a small suburban private school, from which a tiny selection of students leave for grad school in the humanities. I have also taught at elite private schools in which much larger percentages go to grad school. Since I started, I have worked hard to make it clear to students that the most likely result of grad school is NOT having a job in academia, or at best adjuncting and starving. Still, after long conversations, I tell them they will have my blessing if they don't go into debt. And yet, some do go get UK masters and go into debt despite it all.



Ultimately, if they apply, despite my warnings, I write them letters and do the best I can by them.



Here are my anecdotal conclusions: They go to grad school because as an undergrad they loved the subject, truly loved it, and got a glimpse of what it would be like to develop real expertise. They do see the professorial life (the good part, not the part that's about going to back to work in 20 minutes after I get the kids in bed) as appealing and maintain hope of entering the professoriate someday. They are, by definition, people who have enjoyed school and want more of it, perhaps as a delay before entering the market.



I do not see a blithe sense of professional invincibility from my students: My students are not as privileged as they were at other places I taught. That said, they have also never been 29-35, with a PhD in the humanities, and unable to find a job. They cannot process that reality and we should not expect them to. Hence, I emphasize not going or going if you can find funding.

Mapsandpeaches: History Ph.D. here-- Two major reasons, with this caveat first. I'm not in my program because I think I'm special, or more talented, or anything that falls under the condescending category of "special snowflake." I am actually very impressed by the other students from my BA and my MA and have felt fortunate to work with them. The first is simply that I'm doing what I love. Full stop. I'm not going to argue over any cost/benefit analyses that more business-minded folks want to throw in my path. I don't care about that; I care about doing *this.* The second is that a fully funded program, with heavily discounted healthcare, guaranteed for five years (in my case), was too tempting to pass up. It may not be much, but I am privileged enough not to need much, and I'm not accruing extra debt in the process.

"Most Ph.D. programs in the humanities don't cost the student a dime."

llilly: Most PhD programs in the humanities don't cost the student a dime. They teach in return for a complete tuition waiver and usually a modest stipend ($14-$20K/year from what I've seen) and wonderful health care coverage to boot. In fact, if your job prospects are poor anyway, going to school to study what you love while earning a subsistence wage and free health insurance may not seem like a terrible decision, even if you eventually end up working outside of your field.



skritscholar: I'm a first year humanities phd at Harvard, and, first of all, I love what I do. I love the subject matter, the flexible hours, the chance to meet other people who share my interests/general nerdliness, travel opportunities, writing, the chance to teach and work in education, and hey, the moment of impressed silence when you tell someone what you're working on ain't so bad either (although it is admittedly always followed by "what are you going to DO with that?").



But for those of you unmotivated by such intangibles, here's my financial situation (copied from my admissions letter).



Waived tuition fees

Waived health care fees

Academic Year Stipend: $25,260

Summer Research Award: $5,052

Presidential Scholarship: $4,000 (this is a sweetener that only goes to some students)



This amounts to $34,312 a year, guaranteed for five years and pretty easy to extend for seven. I also was fortunate enough to be offered a full scholarship to a state school for undergrad and to have my two-year masters funded, with stipend, by the US government for studying a "critical language." My parents are a school teacher and a salesman, so I'm hardly a trust fund kid, but I also know that I could count on them for a few thousand dollars if I really needed it.



"Many programs also lie about how much support is available."

GIJ: Most people won't attend Harvard and will likely have funding that amounts to half or less of what you're getting there ($34,312). Of course, you have to pay rent in Cambridge/Boston…

sarah: Many programs also lie about how much support is available. [Anonymous University],* for instance, claims that nearly all of their doctoral students find adjunct positions, which simply is not accurate. My fellowship evaporated shortly after I began doctoral study. As a wide-eyed 21 year old entering doctoral studies, it didn’t even occur to me that my financial support wasn’t guaranteed. Pursuing your doctorate is a tremendous investment of time, energy, and money, and it works out for some people. For most people, it doesn’t. A dear friend of mine is over $250k in debt to finish her doctorate in music, and I can’t imagine how she will ever live a normal life with that type of debt.

*I've edited out the name of the school from this post, since I haven't personally been able to verify the story, and while the point is interesting, I'd prefer not to hurl a specific accusation.