This strategy would quickly lose its merit outside of Harvard. Failing to gain tenure at Harvard is the expected outcome, so a) the sense of rejection is less, and b) your remaining job prospects are good because this is generally recognized (and it's Harvard).
Asking somebody at a high-tenure-rate, second-tier school to treat their tenure track position as an extended post-doc is essentially asking them to have a failed career, on the other hand.
(it's worth noting that Harvard has actually changed tack recently, such that they're increasingly promoting junior faculty...the above is still true regardless, at least for the time being)
This isn't true in computer science at Harvard - I speak from experience, having gone through the tenure process there myself. Being denied tenure in CS at Harvard is about as bad as being denied tenure anywhere else; people don't usually end up in very good jobs afterwards. In my 8 years at Harvard, we awarded tenure to 5 junior faculty, and denied tenure to two.
From an undergraduate standpoint, there certainly isn't a lack of interest in the program - the intro CS course is consistently one of the largest undergraduate courses. Though the smaller department size means certain courses aren't always offered, the quality of instruction tends to make up for this (as well as the possibility of cross-registering at MIT). A side effect of CS being an up-and-coming department is that many CS undergrads come to Harvard intending to study something else (say math, physics, or economics) and thus bring with them their diverse interests and skills to the classroom.
This isn't really a problem because Harvard and MIT allow students to cross-register (for up to half of your credits, the same as if you transferred from another school, although I'm not sure if the rules have changed in recent years).
It would seem like anyone worth their salt in computer science could get a corporate job after 7 years at any school, especially Harvard. It seems like the concept of having a failed career is much less than if the Phd was in Philosophy.
I honestly don't know what the job market is like for a CS PhD, so I can't rebut this statement. On the other hand, we interview a lot of PhD.s, and by and large they have little clue about how to provide value. They want to sketch out ideas in Matlab, and throw it over the wall to a bunch of programmers (which in the academic world are postdocs and grad students) to deal with the "implementation details". Many can't write a simple for loop.
That's sweeping, overstated, and unfair of me, but the job skills are quite different. Applied, directed research aimed at producing tangible and sell-able results is very hard, and by-and-large not what they do, at least based on who applies and interviews (which is of course a terribly biased and perhaps non-representative selection).
Based on personal experience (small sample size), Phds in Computer Science can find homes at consulting firms (hired for "being smart"), and software and hardware firms that utilize their speciality, and even hedge funds. It can be hard to unlearn habits over 6 or 7 years, but I've seen it happen.
The real point though is it's a lot easier than many other fields.
I more or less endorse the article. Seven years is a lot of time. I'd only give someone new a little bit of advice.
(1) Do a good job of your teaching, but economize on the effort you put into it.
(2) Be civil to everyone, from the department head on down to the janitor.
(3) Do your service/committee work as asked, and do it cheerfully, but for the most part don't go the extra mile. (And when you do go the extra mile, do so because you believe it's important, not because you believe it will win you brownie points.)
But above all:
(4) Kick ass in your scholarship.
There are plenty of sources that purport to break down and explain (4), some of which are worth reading, especially if caught in a rut -- but if you are successfully kicking ass, and paying at least minimal attention to career advice when it comes your way -- then I'd only worry about continuing to kick ass.
The author of this article is a friend and former colleague (I had the office next door to hers at Harvard, when I was on the faculty there). Many of the reasons she cites for being "miserable" as a faculty member reflect why I left a tenured faculty job for industry. Nearly all junior faculty I know describe it as a survival process. Given this I fail to understand why being a professor remains such an attractive career path.
What's scary is that this represents a fairly luxurious set of pain-points relative to the ones I've seen junior faculty members in the biological sciences exposed to at Harvard.
The conveniences and cultural differences of the CS community are a stark contrast to academic biology. Considering the author's observations:
First, the opt-out options are often fewer and further between; making the jump between basic science work and industrial biotech/pharma can be very difficult depending on your area of interest.
Then, as a biologist, it can be incredibly difficult to restrict your working hours, as experimental (e.g. cell culture) work can operate with delays or intervals. Stepping out at the wrong time means your cells die.
Beyond the unpredictable timing, there's more uncertainty around whether experiments will physically work, and it can be nigh impossible engineer your way out of certain failures.
Further, the benchmarks for "contribution to the field" in biology can be extremely unforgiving; publishing papers in journals outside of Nature, Science, or Cell fails to paint a compelling picture.
These things are added on to the things pointed out in the piece. Extra hurdles.
That's not to say that biological science fields are evil or that faculty paths are never worth considering. But having worked in the lab of a junior faculty member, you can see the pressure and challenges.
>Then, as a biologist, it can be incredibly difficult to restrict your working hours, as experimental (e.g. cell culture) work can operate with delays or intervals. Stepping out at the wrong time means your cells die.
That's where personnel management comes in. I've got an undergrad intern at the moment, who has only a modest amount of lab research experience. In a month and a half, I've taught him molecular biology from scratch (beginning with the fundamentals of PCR) and from what i taught him, I gave him a list of 48 mutations. He designed primers to make those mutations, does the molecular biology, checks the sequences, then does the biochemical experiment on the enzyme that's being mutated. He's finished about half of the mutants. We are able to get this done because the experiments were planned out to be paralellizable and scaleable, and if something is finishing up when it needs to be picked up at the end of the day (like a transformation recovery), I do it, because he comes in early and I stay in late. I also drop in on the weekends to start cultures- but usually only briefly -, to make the most efficient use of his and my time. He is in usually around 9:00-9:15 and I make sure he leaves at 5:00 and I really get angry if he's around past 5:15 except in exigent conditions.
Bottom line: Even in Biology, you can restrict your working hours if you're a team player if you have good management skills.
If you're overworking. Since science entails failure that you cannot engineer your way out of - you will wind up burning out, since the working hard followed by failure is exactly an optimal way of conditioning laziness.
You're absolutely right, it is possible and even important to structure your experiments in such a way that they don't dominate your life. It's something that I've learned to do pretty effectively (and my chosen discipline makes it easier).
I think there are certainly organizational things that can be done to facilitate more reasonable working hours, and I've seen this done well in industrial settings. From pipelined experiments to working with automation, technicians, and teammates.
With all that said, it's not easy, especially as a junior faculty member with limited resources. Building a sane lab environment is 100% worth it IMO, but it is challenging and comes with a few perceived compromises.
Biology could also be a very competitive field that seems to have devolved into basically a rat race. How do you compete with your equally capable peer when they work 80 hours a week and you work 40? Yes, its not sustainable, but maybe that's where we are right now (disclaimer, I don't work in Biology, but have friends that do).
You are just sounding like the prototypical PhD / Post Doc that tries to convince everybody that their work is the hardest and if they don't put in the 80h/week humanity will fail.
Every science has it's own merits and problems and we CS people do not only sit on the couch and drink coffee before we hit back on some brogramming and getting the next 10^9$ from Facebook.
What you write has a side effect that you get much better high school biology teachers than those who teach other STEM subjects as there are fewer options for them. I can't remember a biology teacher who hadn't done serious research on something.
Given this I fail to understand why being a professor remains such an attractive career path.
I wouldn't say that many people see it as attractive relative to high-degree-of-freedom research positions in industry, but there just aren't that many such positions in industry. And, you often have to build up a reputation in academia first (as you did) before you can jump to an industry position that is senior enough to give you research & publication freedom. Even then there are only a handful of options; MSR and parts of Google are two of them in CS, and the numbers dwindle considerably if you look outside of CS. If MSR hired many more people straight out of grad school, and in a broader range of fields, I'm sure many grad students would consider that option rather than pursuing a tenure-track faculty position. Back in the Bell Labs days, it was a popular top choice out of grad school, with faculty job being a second choice.
If you relax the requirement that the job has to let you regularly talk about and publish the results of your research, there are more industry positions available, like R&D positions at petrochemical and aerospace firms. They have large R&D arms, but the average employee in them will publish little to none, except whatever ends up being published via patent filings. That can be a good choice (I have some acquaintances who work in R&D at BP and like their job), but a research career where you can't publish is a quite different choice of career.
As a more minor working-conditions point, I personally like the flexibility. I typically spend 3 days a week in my office and 2 days working off-campus, which most companies won't let you do. And if I want to take a 3-day weekend trip somewhere, I can just do it, as long as it doesn't interfere with a day on which I have classes; no need to ask for permission in advance or worry about how many vacation days I have.
I liked Radhika, and I was sad I couldn't take any of her classes.
> Given this I fail to understand why being a professor remains such an attractive career path.
I know a lot of students who made the very concrete decision between immediate grad school, a job followed by grad school, only a job, self-employment, self-teaching, vacation, etc. Guys and girls.
Larry Summers really didn't play his cards right. If he had just used this reasoning and concluded that it was because men are stupid, he at least wouldn't have been fired.
Larry Summers was forcing faculty members to show up for work. Worse than that, he was forcing some of them to change offices and move to the other side of the river!
They would have gotten him somehow, it's only a question of how.
Not to sound overly critical, but is it just me or does this come off as a somewhat selfish point of view?
My father was a tenured professor and growing up I heard enough horror stories from his department to know that a career as a professor at a research university is no easy career.
But at the same time, isn't a major part of your job instructing students? I understand the importance of grants, conducting research, etc. as it relates to getting tenure, but if your only focus is jumping through hoops with the end goal of getting tenured there are probably a lot easier ways to get job security and at higher pay. My point is that I would hope that those who go into a career in academia as a professor have a major interest in teaching and aren't just there to get the next promotion.
Thanks for my first laugh out loud moment for today.
Out of the 20-30 or so lecturers I can remember from my degree in computer science, there was only maybe two I can think of that had any interest at all in actually communicating ideas and teaching students.
The vast majority of the lecturers were objviously focused on their research and even student questions about assignments / exams / any issue at all were directed to the tutor (who would often be the tutor for 6-7 subjects and be completely swamped by the workload).
The tutors have since been removed from that university due to budget constraints so I feel sorry for the students going there.
Harvard is somewhat peculiar in the way it selects and impresses upon faculty the importance of teaching. That's not to say that all Harvard professors are great teachers, but there's certainly an emphasis on it that is less common.
But yes, the general state of things at virtually all universities (except community colleges) is that teaching is very much secondary to research, and as a result, as the book Academically Adrift summarizes, is that a big proportion of students learn very little in college: "45 percent of students 'did not demonstrate any significant improvement in learning' during the first two years of college. 36 percent of students 'did not demonstrate any significant improvement in learning' over four years of college." http://www.insidehighered.com/news/2011/01/18/study_finds_la...
I went digging for any example of a course that made a dent in student retention, and I found two courses, one on learning & motivation strateges, and another on math for engineers: http://edtechdev.wordpress.com/2013/07/17/two-courses-that-m...
And coincidentally both required hundreds of thousands of dollars in grant money to develop - the latter one 5 million dollars in NSF funds.
>>>6 years ago there was an initiative at Harvard to focus on teaching and not just research, but I don't know what came of it.
This is actually fascinating to me. I attended a large Midwestern college in the late 1990's and contemplated a career in academia. At the time, there was a huge debate over the effectiveness of tenure.
By the time I graduated, the normal "right of passage" of getting tenure had turned into a multi-year process which focused entirely on what research you had conducted, the amount of money you were bringing into the school, how many articles you had published, how current those articles were, etc. It had absolutely nothing to do with how good of a teacher you were - and everything to do with how much research you were doing and where your articles were published.
Needless to say, I opted not to enter academia, mainly for this reason. Tenure became the carrot they dangled out in front of you so you'd bust your ass for the university while not receiving much in return. As one long tenured professor told me, "They've turned tenure from something that was seen as prestigious, into a mafia racket."
She doesn't mention any teaching, but I wouldn't take that as not caring about teaching. She discusses the things that she needs to assign a priority to, and risk creeping in (or out).
Not knowing any particulars I would guess that teaching, albeit time consuming, does not pose that risk.
She actually does mention teaching- she lists sub-par problem sets as a contributing factor to a particular month being difficult, and she groups teaching in with research as her non-quota-having activities. But I suspect that your analysis is fundamentally correct.
I'm an MIT Physics PhD who aimed at teaching from early on. I agree that we're in the minority, but folks like us aren't typically looking for jobs at R1 universities but instead at small schools where teaching is actually valued. Unless you're part of that culture, we may not be the PhDs that you know.
I have a number of PhD friends like me, teaching at small liberal arts colleges and community colleges. It's a career path that doesn't typically have the sexy budgets and bright city lights, but IMHO can still lead to an academically rigorous and balanced life.
I studied math/physics at Colorado State Pueblo, a small school with very minimal focus on research. I would absolutely recommend it to my kids when they're deciding on a school, because having actual professors teach what they love in a dept that actually cared if the students learned was wonderful.... And the professors were happy, too.
I'm glad to hear this is a thing. I'm a first-year CS PhD student, and my end goal is to get a tenured position at a small school where they care more about my teaching than research skills; I want to teach, but I get paid about as well as a TA as many contract instructors, and I also want a family-supporting wage for my work.
I'm a PhD who wants to pursue academia, and I want to do so not to teach, but to be able to continue research.
Teaching is a pleasure - at the moment I supervise undergrads for both research projects and as an advisor, and it is very intellectually rewarding (at least at Cambridge - at my previous institution not so much). I look forward to more of it as an academic, it's just not my primary motivation.
I was a PhD with an aspiration of tenure, AND I went into it to teach, I am actually quite a good teacher, but I happen to be much better at research, and enjoy doing research, and I enjoy leading researchers. However, much better is not quite good enough in light of that maybe being good at research is not what is selected for in the faculty search. I missed every single one of my attempts to get a position, two years running, so I'm giving up on academia and its stupid politics, and starting an independent nonprofit research institute. Since there will be no students, there will be no teaching, so in doing so I will effectively be giving up what I wanted to go into academia for in the first place.
I (a tenure-track assistant professor of math) didn't go into academia primarily to teach. But I enjoy teaching, value it, agree that it is important work, and make an effort to do it well.
Wait... you're assuming the alternative to the practice suggested in the OP is spending a lot of time focusing on instruction? (Of _undergrads_?)
I think you are misunderstanding the 'typical' approach to tenure-track career. I can assure you that the majority of people doing the "80 hour" work weeks are not focusing on teaching.
While the OP didn't mention really mention teaching, I would honestly assume the the author spends as much or more time on instruction/teaching, and does as good or better by her students, than the 'typical' workaholic junior tenure track faculty. The workaholics are not spending spending 80 hours a week because they're spending a lot of time on teaching, I assure you.
I'm not suggesting that there isn't merit to what she says, I'm just saying that it came off to me as an article explaining "how I learned to bide my time in this place for 7 years and eschew the typical advice aimed for those who are content to struggle towards tenure."
I've spent a lot of time in academia myself. I was a TA in computer science and have taught undergrads so I was exposed to the political battles and stresses that go on. Perhaps I am misinterpreting what she is saying and she is really just speaking of dealing with all the BS that comes with working at a research university and the importance of teaching is a given. The part about writing out every day that she only has to be there for 7 years is a bit unsettling for a professor though. If I were a freshman CS student it wouldn't instill a lot of confidence that my professor wrote down that she was only going to have to be there for a set period of time in order to get amped up to come in and teach my class.
I think you're totally misinterpreting this. I know a lot of folks who have spent every hour of every day for oh about four years thinking "Tenure! Tenure! Tenure! Tenure!" I say four years because around that point there's a breakdown in the chair's office or in class or during some long night, and then there's therapy, and bitterness, and wailing and gnashing of teeth.
If you focus on the moment instead of "the future" you can respond to a student in the now, rather than reminding yourself that undergraduate research is essentially irrelevant to your tenure case so you should say no to this project. You can take a risk in your teaching and teach something you really care about instead of taking Prof Oldguy's advice to just teach the intro class from the same lecture notes as last year. You might take on that interesting, new, and risky interdisciplinary project with the guy from microbiology instead of reminding yourself that interdisciplinary projects are generally not reviewed well as people from neither discipline feel they have the expertise to look at them. Specialized projects are much safer.
You think that struggling for tenure makes people better teachers and better people; I think it makes people miserable. Yeah. Now you're that freshman CS student with a bitter overworked prof either trying not to cry or taking out latent hostility on students who is in it for tenure, instead of a happy, adventurous, intellectually interested prof. Big win!
You think that struggling for tenure makes people better teachers and better people;
No, this is the opposite of what I'm saying. I DON'T think it makes them better teachers. I think focusing on teaching makes people better teachers. I understand the realities of working at a large university where research is a major focus- again, I've worked in such an environment as an instructor myself. But let's not forget why universities exist in the first place. If you want to focus on research and getting grants and publications, that's great, but I believe you should at least have some interest in teaching. I'm not sure how effective a teacher you can be if you go into work every day reminding yourself that you only have to work there for a set period of time.
The prof in the article is not reminding herself that she only has to work there for a set period of time -- that's your misunderstanding. She's reminding herself that for seven years she gets to do research, teach, and work with awesome people, and after that, if she fails to get tenure, she will not have wasted her time. She won't be an abject failure. Do you really think she's counting down the clock to leaving after seven years?! Why do that?
I agree with you to some extent about the interest in teaching, but be really honest: that's not what we're paying for. State support for education keeps going down, down, down, and government funders are the only funders who really give a crap about education of the students. They're not paying up anymore so that's not a priority, and people who prioritize teaching over research are out of a job. The same attitude is sneaking down to lower-ranked schools as well as they fight for revenue.
I love teaching and get good evaluations. It really means very little in the job market or retaining a tenure-track position. I'm glad you think that a "focus on research and getting grants and publications" is "great" because that is what you are evaluated on: if you can't do that then teaching is irrelevant.
There is always a maximum amount of hours that anybody can spent on anything. She just draws the line in the sand where she wants it to be so that she has time for other things as well. I admire her for doing it so explicitly.
In the U.S. at least, you don't usually have a choice to opt-out of chasing tenure if you want to continue teaching. Barring some unusual situations, there are either non-tenure-track fixed-length jobs, like a two-year visiting professorship; or tenure-track jobs where you have six to seven years to get tenure in order to stay. Non-tenure-track but permanent positions are quite rare, and in a tenure-track position you can't choose to simply remain at the untenured Assistant level indefinitely—you'll be fired after six or seven years if you don't successfully go up for tenure. It's a classic "up or out" style job in that sense.
Once you get tenure, then the advancement ladder does become somewhat optional; an Associate Professor can stay at that level for the rest of their career, with no requirement that they ever seek promotion to full Professor. Some universities are starting to put pressure in various ways on insufficiently productive tenured faculty, but there is at least more insulation from the advancement ladder at that point. But before then it's non-optional if you want to stay.
Is getting rid of people with over a decade of academic experience because try didn't achieve enough research results or even just didn't impress those recommending them enough really optimal?
Needs to be something like a teaching track, where teaching then becomes the main focus. Maybe still participate in the research going on but not drive it.
CMU is unusual in being a top-tier school with that arrangement. They actually have three tracks of professors. There's still a "regular" professor with the usual research/teaching mix. Then there is a "teaching" professor, which is also a tenure-track/tenured position, but judged mainly on teaching with research secondary; they are not expected to bring in as many grants or publish as many papers, but teach more courses per semester and are judged more strongly on their teaching quality. And finally there's a "research" professor, which deviates from regular professor in the other direction: they're judged mainly on research, with a lower teaching load, but a higher expectation for grants and publication output.
As someone headed into academia, I ponder how the tenure-track process filters out folks. Simply put, I think many of the best scientists have been nerds, and many smart nerds really don't see the utility in playing the political tenure game. I'd argue that the competition is fiercer now than it's ever been in the sciences, so these selectionary forces against nerd-types are getting stronger.
We end up with the situation where scientists in academic jobs are enriched for those good at politics and playing the game, and we lose brilliant minds to companies. Companies also do their part, and offer alluring salaries and job security (I've had quite a few recruitment attempts for wonderful companies, and almost left academia on several occasions).
With the folks in academic positions being political (and sometimes downright manipulative), it's no surprise that some make terrible mentors. Their success quite often relies on extracting work from postdocs that will never have their success. Sadly, there's no incentive for symbiotic relationships sometimes. Luckily, finally, I have met mentors that are exceptions to this, and are nerds like me (and quite frankly, keep me in the sciences). But it took a long time to find such mentors, and other very smart people are not so lucky as to find these types of mentors and they leave the sciences. Sadly, this enriches for more bad mentor types. I think the role my mentors' mentors had is huge too; often my mentors talk about how important their mentors were.
>I think many of the best scientists have been nerds, and many smart nerds really don't see the utility in playing the political tenure game.
I think this is 75% of the "problem". It gets worse because the smart nerds who do like to play the political game are often so solipsistic and selfish that they are really spectacularly atrocious managers, many of whom take a scorched earth attitude to solving their scientific problems. This becomes a vicious cycle as that becomes the percieved way to act within the culture.
At Harvard it really is easy to stop worrying, if you have an open mind.
As a mathematician, I know excellent academics who narrowly missed getting tenured at MIT and Princeton. They were highly in demand, and are now happily working at other top-20 universities.
(ed: I am in math, and described what I observed. I see elsewhere in the thread that mdwelsh observed the opposite.)
You are right that being a mathematician at Harvard, it hardly matters if you get tenure or not. (In fact, for a long time you basically had to win the Fields Medal to get tenure in math at Harvard). Harvard is nowhere near as well known in Computer Science, and is more of a "top 20" rather than "top 5" school.
This article is great because the author has an authentic voice and explains how she achieved a measure of success without succumbing to outside pressures or norms.
It's a good framework for thinking about any high stress, competitive career track. Ultimately, stress/pressure greatly affect performance and peoples' perceptions of you, both of which are paramount in ascending hierarchies.
First off, it's inspiring and courageous to write candidly about such a topic. Including the epiphany: That what I can do, is try to be the best whole person that I can be. That mindset would be helpful outside academia too.
But the more I read through stories like this the more I become convinced it's important to fool yourself: to convince yourself there's no pressure. As if the act itself unblocks some kind of neural pathways that allow you to do things you wouldn't have let yourself do otherwise.
The author might be a lot more courageous that they think, even if they hadn't realized it at the time: "But its not because I have extra courage. Rather, by demoting the prize, the risk becomes less."
Anecdotally, a professor once told me (when they look back on their tenure track) that it now seems irresponsible to them that they were devoting such little time to revising journal papers or writing such few grand proposals. (I got the feeling they were doing things that don't scale). Another said they were sure upfront they'd fire them at the end, so they tried to enjoy they ride while it lasted. Both of them got tenure.
Another thing this story shows is how logistics become manageable if you try. Like the approach to give the other person a weekend day off as counter-balance to you going on an extra trip is probably what prevents you from going astray. It's the right sort of tension. You pay twice for a workday like that (one for the trip, one for parent duty), so you now have a concrete measure to make that decision rather the vagueness of "it will help my career".
On the "stop taking advice" idea: when I was a grad student (and postdoc), I kept notes in a personal wiki. I had a page entitled "Things Other People Have Suggested I Do". I didn't do most of them. Even more so, it was such a liberating feeling to look at it and tell myself, "I don't have to do any of that crap, I have my own research plan."
I have to say, that my graduate degree was salvaged because I took the advice of a grad student, a postdoc, and an assistant professor (and totally blew off my advisors/committee). So, not all advice is bad.
It's unbelievably easy and condescending for someone who has a tenure-track junior faculty position at harvard to call it a "seven-year postdoc". However, the advice is generally good.
I do however take issue with this: "I guess my hope is to add one more option to the list, which is covering your ears and making up your own rules." No... That shouldn't be a hope. You should just do it.
Even if not all of the aspects that she wrote about may related to everybodys problems, it's a very good read because it allows to relate to her situation. Being a post-doc in CS myself and having two kids I exactly know how hard it is to juggle everything. In addition, I think that many of the comments here try to interpret the article as a list of advices and treat them as such. But If you read carefully you would have seen that this is especially something she didn't want to.
My key take-away from this post is that: Yes, the system is designed for young, childless PhDs who are willing to put 80hs/weeks into work and robot-like follow the advice of others. But, it does not have to be like that. It's paramount to remember everyday why you are doing this job and why you love research and teaching.
I highly recommend reading The Talent Code by Daniel Coyle. The essence of the book as well as this article are interesting in that the more relaxed you are the higher your productivity and interestingly enough you can only learn/do so much in a day. The point being, likely not pursuing the tenure track made her more productive and allowed her to form better relationships, making her one of the better junior faculty (or at least one of the more pleasant).
I like the idea. When you free yourself from undue external pressure creativity comes out. This doesn't work for everyone. You have to be very prescient to avoid all advice. Being smart and in computer science allows one great backup plans. (Tell the 7th year English professor not to worry)
I think the key to nailing this her way is to become a time management nazi and to be profoundly efficient and productive in every category. And that is where most of us fail unfortunately.
Another thing to take away from that: hire someone with kids if you have the option. Maximum output of intellectual work is achieved with a 30-40 hour working week. The author settled on a 50+ hour working week, which is higher than optimum, enough to degrade her judgment and productivity - but only somewhat, not catastrophically; she was still able to get good work done. It's clear that without children, she would have settled on a substantially longer working week, probably enough to destroy her judgment and the quality of her work.
Asking somebody at a high-tenure-rate, second-tier school to treat their tenure track position as an extended post-doc is essentially asking them to have a failed career, on the other hand.
(it's worth noting that Harvard has actually changed tack recently, such that they're increasingly promoting junior faculty...the above is still true regardless, at least for the time being)