How to deal with bully-discussants
How to deal with bully-discussants
Plus a rare break from pop culture, cat, and chocolate references. Enjoy!
Hello and welcome to Academia Made Easier. I am so glad that you are here.
It is conference season! All across the land, academics young and less-young are preparing to join with colleagues to discuss scholarship, build networks, and find inspiration for their research and teaching.
An important part of conferences is presenting work and receiving peer feedback from a qualified discussant. Ideally, the discussant helps to identify where the presenter’s work is promising, where it requires strengthening or revisiting, and how the work connects with other ideas or literatures that the presenter may not have considered.
Many discussants are extremely helpful. Some are moderately helpful, with a useful insight or two. And some are unhelpful but harmless: vague, underprepared, or unable to resist the temptation to discuss their own work rather than the presenters’.
And then there are the bullies.
Bully-discussants use their positions to demean others. Here are three examples, all true stories and the first two of which I observed personally (the third was observed by a friend whose description of events I trust):
The discussant told the presenter that her paper addressed a “well-deserved gap in the literature” and then went on to mock the research.
The discussant told the presenter that her paper “was actually pretty good - much better than the presentation [she] just gave” and then explained why her presentation was not up to his standards.
The discussant berated the presenter in front of the entire audience for submitting her paper late, lecturing the presenter on her lack of “professionalism” until she was in tears.
In each case, the discussant felt entitled to treat the presenter with disrespect. In each case, the presenter was publicly humiliated and visibly upset. And in each case, the situation was unaddressed: no one stood up to the bully-discussant and no one defended the presenter.
While bully-discussants are infrequent (at least at the conferences I attend), these types of experiences are unacceptable. Conferences need to be safe spaces, and professionalism requires treating people with dignity and respect. If you agree with me on this, then today’s small thing to try immediately should be easy for you.
One Small Thing to Try Immediately: Address Disrespectful Discussant Comments
The three examples of bully-discussants I gave all involved the same power dynamic: all the discussants were established white male scholars and all the presenters were young early career women. But I am under no illusions that this issue is limited to a particular demographic. I think bullies are found everywhere. I also suspect that bully-discussants don’t believe they are bullies. I suspect they consider themselves “rigourous”, “plain speaking”, or “unapologetic” in their approaches. I suspect they see themselves as “defending the discipline” or “teaching the presenter an important lesson.”
Assholes are rarely lacking in ego or self-righteousness.
Bully-discussants damage academia. They discourage scholars from taking risks and putting themselves out there. They make academia a less safe place, particularly for underrepresented scholars. And they foster a culture that accepts disrespect and intimidation.
So not cool. Here are some ideas to help address any bully-discussant issues at the conferences you attend this year.
If you are a discussant:
Recognize your role as a discussant. Discussants are typically expected to do two things: help the audience better understand the panel papers and provide the presenters with constructive feedback to improve their work. (Some feel discussants should also make efforts to connect the various papers in the panel, a practice which benefits neither audience nor presenters but can result in some hilarious discussant efforts to establish ties among papers where none exist).
Acknowledge power dynamics. The discussant is making a public critique of the presenters’ work. This temporary power dynamic layers on top of less-temporary power dynamics within society and within academia. If you are a tenured faculty member providing public critique of a non-tenured scholar’s work, you should be mindful of the added power dimension. Additionally, consider all possible power dynamics related to gender, race, career stage, university prestige, and so forth. It is often not a level playing field and it is your responsibility to acknowledge this.
Be constructive. What insights do you have that could make the work stronger? How do you suggest the presenter improve the argument? What might be done to increase the methodological or theoretical rigour? Are there errors in the analysis or interpretation that need to be corrected? And — this is important — how can you share this information in a public setting in a way that is respectful? (Hot tip: if you have a desire to dump all over a person’s work or to put someone “in their place”, ask yourself why this is and reflect again on the power dynamics. And then just: don’t.)
If you are an audience member observing bully-discussant behaviour:
Call this shit out. If you feel safe doing so, let the discussant know that the bullying behaviour is not okay. This might be publicly in the Q&A session. (E.g., “The discussant stated X, which I think is an unfair interpretation of your work. Can you please elaborate on what you see as the strengths of your approach?”) It might be in a one-on-one discussion with the discussant after the panel. (E.g., “Your comments to that PhD student were very harsh. As a senior scholar, I hope you will reflect on how you can be more constructive in the future.”) This option is more available to established scholars than emerging scholars. (Indeed, two examples I witnessed were at a time when I was at a more vulnerable career stage and felt powerless to take action.) So, if you are an established scholar, I encourage you to take responsibility to act when you see bullying behaviour.
Check in with the presenter. Being bullied is a terrible experience and one that often provokes shame in the victim. Make an effort to connect with the presenter. Make sure they are okay and let them know they should not have been treated that way. Show them the kindness and respect that they should have received in the first place.
Report. Let the conference organisers know what you observed and why you don’t think this constitutes professional behaviour for the discipline. Ask for a response. Follow up if necessary.
If you are a presenter experiencing bully-discussant behaviour:
Do not assume that the bully-discussant is right. Imposter phenomenon is so common in academia that it is easy to assume that the discussant is right: your paper is crap, your research is irrelevant, and you have no place in academia. Understand that this gut reaction is false. And even if the discussant correctly pointed out weaknesses in your work, they had no right to do so in a destructive fashion. You deserve to be treated with respect, full stop.
Talk to a trusted mentor. Speaking with someone who cares about your wellbeing will help you identify what lessons to take from the experience and what to discard. You don’t have to bear this alone.
It is possible to have rigorous scholarship while being kind to each other. Let’s all commit to making academia a respectful place.
Until next time…
Are you, like me, wanting to help academia be a positive space for students, new scholars, and underrepresented scholars? If so, I have two actions to suggest. First, please forward this newsletter to your network and/or discuss it with colleagues. Second, please read my Skills Agenda column about how disciplinary associations can help improve doctoral programs — and then ask your own disciplinary association to take action.
Stay well, my colleagues.
P.S. I do not want to end this newletter leaving anyone - and particularly new scholars - with the impression that discussants are to be feared. Bully-discussants are not the norm. Indeed, I have had some truly amazing discussants over my career. Most discussants have been encouraging and helpful. One discussant even followed her verbal comments with an email of three pages (!!!) of constructive notes. So a final small idea to try immediately: when you have an excellent discussant, send them an email after the conference to say thank you. They will appreciate it.
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I do my best to not validate this kind of bullying with a full response. I keep mine curt and cordial, but sending a clear message I won’t engage.
I think there should be a discipline wide discussion about the role of discussants. I think the tradition of listening to the discussant (who is often someone who has the time, not necessarily the expertise to do the role) provide suggestions and critiques is a waste of time for the audience. and far too often is an exercise in public shaming. APSA is horrible in that respect. What about changing the role to a "reviewer" - one person who is willing to read the paper and provide written feedback to each panelist who wants it. And then just open it up right away to audience questions.