Part 3

I did not rely only on psychology but leaned pretty heavily on philosophy as well, for despite all the ambivalent feelings I may have about my profession I believe that at its best it provides wisdom and insight that can be invaluable, or at least that I, a man without religion, could not do without. Two philosophers in particular came to mind: William James and Jean-Paul Sartre.
In his essay “Existentialism is a Humanism” Sartre tells the story of a student who comes to him for advice about whether to join the French Resistance. Although the young man strongly feels the pull of duty to country during wartime, his mother is ill and he is her only support. What should he do? Sartre’s answer is the only one a serious person could provide in such a situation: I can’t help you. For Sartre, we are defined by/the sum total of our choices. In this case, there was not one right choice; rather, there were two choices each which affirmed a different value scheme. The young man had to choose and then accept full responsibility for the choice: nothing more and nothing less. Applied to my own situation, it meant that there were no words from a friend that would make my choice clear, no insight I would stumble upon if I reflected on the issue longer. Rather, there were two paths, and I had to choose by which one I wanted to define what was left of my life.

If Sartre clearly showed me the nature of the choice and what was at stake, it was the American philosopher William James who provided the methodology that may have ultimately decided the day. In “The Will to Believe,” James had argued that when we are faced with a genuine option—a choice between two momentous alternatives— the only sane way to decide, if it is not a matter of scientific reasoning where the evidence clearly lines up on one side (sorry creationists, birthers, and global warming skeptics) is with our passional nature. When I put the choice in those terms—where did my heart lie—the answer was clear, at least from a negative perspective. That is, I knew my heart was not in the academic game. I could go back, but it would not be out of passion for a calling but because of fear of losing health insurance premiums. True, when I thought of life without academia my head spun, my stomach turned, my heart rate increased. Of course, that may have been the side effects from the medication. But it also, at least to me, signaled an energy for a path which led I knew not where.
I knew what I had to do.

There is certainly a common sense argument that says if you are going to leave a job for life you should at least have something else lined up, even if it involves the phrase “would you like fries with that.” And as it is always easier to get a job if you already have a job, this would entail not leaving academia until you have assured yourself of alternate employment. As I myself spent a year looking for a job while teaching, I am obviously not unsympathetic towards this line of reasoning. But for my two cents worth, I would now advise against leaving a long term academic career and moving immediately into another position for the same reason I don’t think it’s a good idea to walk out of a fifteen year marriage and without taking a beat go back to the altar. In both cases, some time off seems called for.

This is precisely what I am doing now. As a result, I can’t provide any closure for this article because there is none in my life. But I will keep you posted. I do have one last thought. Having gone over the ground in more detail than I had planned, I am reminded that when asked why he left Walden Pond, Thoreau replied “Perhaps it seemed to me had several lives to live and could not spare any more time for that one.” It strikes me really that this is all that needed to be said.