The Tao of Earth Surface Systems
Jonathan D. Phillips
University of Kentucky
I have never been
accused of false modesty. Or even
genuine modesty. While I am deeply and profoundly flawed in many ways; a
barbecue-crazed, beer-swilling degenerate; incurably politically incorrect;
incorrigibly lowbrow; prone to ill-timed flatulence. ThereÕs a lot of stuff
IÕve had to apologize for, and a lot more for which I probably should beg
forgiveness.
However, this discussion is
confined to my professional life, and as a scientist, scholar, and teacher, I
think I do OK. IÕve accomplished a lot, published a lot, and IÕm a good (though
not particularly popular) teacher. My record speaks for itself. Despite the
fact that I have a pretty good record and am still out there on the cutting
edge (OK, now IÕm done with the self-promotion), it has become clear to me in
the past few years that the way I work and my approach to science and education
is, to put it charitably, a bit atypical with respect the mainstream trends in
U.S. universities. To put it less charitably, IÕm a #$%^&** dinosaur.
IÕve been able to buck some
of the trends some of the time partly due to starting my career before the
commodification of education and corporatization of research was full
entrenched, and to working for some exceptional department chairs, and to being
pretty good at figuring out how to do things on the cheap (my corporate motto:
Cut Rate Š Cutting Edge). IÕm
going to be able to continue in this mode until retirement or career change (if
for no other reason than because IÕll get out when I can no longer do so). But
it occurs to me that I may not be a particularly good role model or mentor for
those who will have to try to Expand the Frontiers of Knowledge and Train the
Leaders of Tomorrow in this ravaged intellectual landscape of corporate
universities, commodified knowledge, retail education, and assembly-line
research.
Thus you can see this as a
disclosure for any potential students or colleagues who may want to work with
me, any spudheads (my somewhat affectionate term for university administrators)
who want to evaluate me, and any curious souls who just wonder What the Hell
IÕm Thinking.
The disclosure takes the
form of 10 reasons, in no particular order, that someone might want to think
twice about following my example. Because in many cases these traits and
attitudes are at odds with what many university administrators like to see, I
call it . . .
Ten Things Spudheads Hate About
Me
1. The Quest and the
Questions.
My research is motivated by
what I perceive to be interesting and important scientific
questionsŃcuriousity-driven research. I do not much care what the hot areas of
funding are, or where the easy money is. I will not accept contracts or
participate in projects that do not pique my scientific curiousity, or through
which I cannot pursue curiousity-driven questions.
2. Money for NothinÕ (or
NothinÕ for Money).
DonÕt get me wrong. I
appreciate the funding IÕve had, and will gladly accept more for things that
interest and excite me. I also appreciate and congratulate my colleagues who
bring in the bucks. But I also firmly believe that funding is the least
important measure of research productivity; that funding should be a means to
an end rather than an end in itself; and that the only thing that ultimately
matters in research is results. And if you can get those results on the cheap,
or without external funding, then more power to you (or me).
3. My Dawgs.
Sometimes I get
correspondence making reference to my Ņresearch group.Ó ThereÕs two problems
with thatŃitÕs groups, plural, and they are ours, not mine. The
corporate-industrial research group model is increasingly common. It works well
for some people, and there is nothing intrinsically wrong with it. It just ainÕt
how I roll. I do work with several different groups of collaborators. I love
this work, and I cherish the fellowship as much as I appreciate the science.
However, these groups are dynamic and flexible in their membership, loose in
their organization, lacking in a chain of command, and fluid in their very
existence. These research groups arise organically around scientific questions
rather than being science-producing organizations. And I still conduct quite a
bit of solo work, and still value (and lament the decline of) the lone,
independent researcher.
4. My Students are Not
Customers.
I owe the university and
those who fund it a solid dayÕs work for a dayÕs pay. I owe students and those
who pay their tuition a sound, up-to-date education and a reasonable amount of
assistance in obtaining it. Beginning in the 1980s, and gaining appalling
momentum ever since, however, a Ņstudent-as-customerÓ model has gained
prominence with the spudheads. I ainÕt buying it, and I ainÕt selling it. My
job is to set standards and held students achieve them, not to cater to
customers.
5. My Students are Not
Drooling Morons.
They areŃor at least can
beŃperfectly competent, responsible people. They can read a catalog or degree
audit and figure out what courses they need to take. They can explore career
options and determine what they need to achieve their goals. I am happy to give
them advice in these matters. But increasingly, students are not expected to do
these things for themselves, or to take responsibility when they donÕt get
done, and that ainÕt right.
6. Do Your Thang.
In many disciplines and
programs the model for graduate education is one whereby a student apprentices
themselves to a faculty member, who then slices off a piece of a funded project
for the studentÕs thesis or dissertation. I donÕt roll that way. I have no
problem with students doing their projects in conjunction with mine, and with
having funding therefrom, and many do so. However, identifying and designing a
research project is a partŃmaybe the most important partŃof graduate training.
So if you work with me, you are free to design a project in conjunction with my
work. Or you are free to go in different directions entirely, as long as I am
competent to superviseŃand even then, I am not possessive, and will gladly help
you find someone else.
7. I (donÕt) Wanna Hold
Your Hand.
I am freely available for
consultations with graduate students I work with. With some IÕve even carved
out regularly two-hour weekly meetings. For those who donÕt want or need that
kind of regular contact, IÕll check in periodically. But I am not a
hand-holder, and finishing a graduate program with me will depend on your
initiative, not mine.
8. Tobacco Road.
In 1992, several of us were
having a discussion about proliferation of research institutes, centers,
groups, etc. Being folks who do not take such things too seriously, we decided
to think of a name for our own real, but very loose, confederation of
collaborators. The name, we decided, should reflect the fact that while we take
our science seriously, we donÕt take the names assigned to the entities
conducting it very seriously. However, we did not want a name that was
obviously a joke. Thus was born the Tobacco Road Research Team, at East
Carolina University, with the Kentucky Chapter established later. In a similar
spirit the New Disciples of Soil was born in 2004 and Copperhead Road
Geosciences (my consulting firm) in 2006.
9. I DonÕt Care Where You Got Your Degree.
Academic snobbism is
rampant in my business, and a good academic pedigree will take you a long way
with some folks. All I care about is what you know and what you can do and what
you produce. IÕve seen too many second-raters in prestigious departments and
universities, and too many top-notch faculty in and students coming out of
non-prestigious ones.
But heck, maybe this is
just reverse snobbery from a high school equivalency, East Carolina grad. IÕll
admit that it gives me great pleasure when IÕm invited to speak at a school I
couldnÕt have gotten into, or when somebody from Yale or Oxford has to come
crawlinÕ to me for help . . . .
10. Can You Dig It?
IÕve been able to make use,
directly or through my collaborators, with some of the latest, most advanced,
cutting-edge technologies. But when you get right down to it, the most
important insights I get come from digging holes in the ground. IÕm basically a
low-tech, muddy-boots kind of guy. ThatÕs pretty unfashionable these days.
The Tao
My primary research
interest is in earth surface systems. This involves the coevolution of
landforms, soils, and ecosystems; the interactions of the litho-, bio-, hydro-,
and atmospheres; and environmental change. I like to think the way I believe
these subjects should be approached (the Ņway,Ó or tao) is evident in my work.
In recent years, however, I have been asked or inspired to opine or pontificate
on trends in, the future of, and methodological issues in geomorphology,
pedology, hydrology, environmental change, and geography. Rather than repeat
those arguments and illustrations here, I simply refer you to these pieces,
variously thought of by various people as the brilliant insights of an
innovative genius, the tired grumblings of an old-school old fool, and the
insane rantings of a degenerate. A
full list of publications is available here.
Phillips,
J.D. 2007. The perfect landscape. Geomorphology (in press).
Phillips,
J.D. 2006. Evolutionary geomorphology:
thresholds and nonlinearity in landform response to environmental change. Hydrology
and Earth System Sciences 10: 731-742.
Phillips,
J.D. 2006. Deterministic chaos and historical
geomorphology: A review and look forward. Geomorphology 76: 109-121.
Phillips,
J.D. 2004. Divergence, sensitivity, and
nonequilibrium in ecosystems. Geographical
Analysis 36:
369-383.
Phillips,
J.D. 2004. Doing justice to the law. Annals of the Association of
American Geographers 94:
290-293.
Phillips,
J.D. 2004. Independence,
contingency, and scale linkage in physical geography. Scale and Geographic
Inquiry. Nature, Society, and Method (E. Sheppard, R.B. McMaster, eds.). Oxford: Blackwell, pp.
86-100.
Phillips,
J.D. 2004. Laws, contingencies, irreversible
divergence, and physical geography.
Professional Geographer 56: 37-43.
Phillips,
J.D. 1999. Methodology, scale, and the field of dreams. Annals of the
Association of American Geographers 89: 754-760.
Phillips,
J.D. 1999. Spatial analysis in physical geography and the challenge of deterministic
uncertainty. Geographical Analysis 31: 359-372.
Phillips,
J.D. 1998. On the relations between complex systems and the factorial model of
soil formation (with discussion and response). Geoderma 86: 1-43.