The ASU Annual Review: A Professor’s Guide to Conflict of Interest

Ah, annual review season at Arizona State University. That special time of year when professors meticulously document their achievements to ensure they haven’t become what administrators lovingly call "deadwood associate professors." I’m a full professor so I’m not worried. The process is simple: research, teaching, and service are each graded on a 1-5 scale, where 3 is satisfactory, 4 is good, and 5 is excellent. The final score is an average of these three areas, and—brace yourselves—I’ve never received less than an overall 4 in all these many years.

The whole process is very objective. There are points assigned to different kinds of activities. We add up what we did and then we have our score for each of the three categories. Now, before you assume I’m just here to gloat, let me assure you, dear reader, I’m not here just to gloat. This year I should receive a 5 across the board, based on cold, hard, objective numbers. No mystery, no smoke and mirrors—just a straightforward point system. And yet, despite my transparently earned excellence, some of my esteemed colleagues (you know, the ones with anonymous accounts) have been hard at work trying to convince the world that I am unfit for my job.

You may recall one such colleague who created an anonymous account (and then another, because one just wasn’t enough) to insist that I don’t do my job. A bold claim, considering the rigorous and objective nature of our annual review process. But here’s where it gets really interesting: Did this professor just accidentally admit to being on my school’s annual review committee? Because discussing personnel matters publicly in an attempt to take a shot at me would be, shall we say, highly unprofessional at least.

And then there’s the pièce de résistance—the colleague who outright fabricated an accusation to try to get me fired (same person?). You know the one (if not, scroll back a few posts and enjoy the full story). If this person is still on the annual review committee, they should recuse themselves from my case immediately. Because imagine, for a moment, having your job performance evaluated by someone who already tried to end your career based on a fiction of their own making. Sounds fair, right? No feminist would ever tolerate such an imbalance of power, but if it’s aimed at that one conservative Christian guy well then who cares.

Now, the director of my school should be proactive about ensuring that personal vendettas don’t taint an ostensibly objective process. But in the absence of that, I’ll be keeping a close eye on this year’s review. If my scores suddenly dip below a 5, you’ll know exactly what happened—and you’ll be the first to hear about it. Let’s see if the workplace harassment continues. Pop some popcorn, folks. This could get interesting.