Image: $1,000 Silver Certificate, Series of 1891 (National Numismatic Collection at the Smithsonian Institution)

Six years ago, I was spending my penultimate grad-school year on a Fulbright fellowship in Austria. My husband (then “partner”—sometimes I think I married just to avoid having to use that word) was back at home, working off the tenure track and on the job market for the third year in a row. He planned to visit me during the winter break, for the first and only time during that academic year. But we faced a dilemma: Should he come to see me for three weeks, and thus skip his annual convention, where first-round interviews for tenure-track jobs routinely took place? Or: Should he drastically shorten his overseas visit to a few days (again, the only time we would see each other over a period of nine months), on the off chance that someone might call? (By the time he received any interview invitations, it would be a week before Christmas, so waiting to hear was a nonstarter.)

I remain convinced that it was some form of Academic Murphy’s Law that ensured that his decision to skip his annual convention and visit me in Austria resulted in an interview request. I was sitting next to him in my freezing apartment when he returned the call with measured excitement. “I’m actually out of the country right now,” he explained. “Could we hold a videoconference instead?” The department manager could not hang up fast enough, and he never heard from that university again.

Half a decade later, I’m relieved to see that more departments, in a diverse array of fields, are choosing to offer alternatives to the traditional convention interview—or, bless their souls, to forego the first-round conference interview altogether, like they should, since, as many sane voices (and my own) have already opined quite loudly, it is no longer necessary.

However, it dismays me to report that some holdouts remain. Just last month, a reader provided me with a recording of a voicemail in which his interview for a tenure-track position was rescinded because he asked for a videoconference in lieu of traveling to Vancouver for this year’s meeting of the Modern Language Association. What that search-committee chair effectively did was confirm that some people still believe that anyone who can’t throw down at least $1,000 for a first-round job interview has no place in The Profession.

That is, frankly, inexcusable.

But wait, you might be saying. Aren’t you exaggerating that $1,000 figure? I mean, there are ways to save money; be frugal. If The Profession is important to you, you’ll find a way, right?

In fact, attending big annual academic conferences for the sole purpose of interviewingdoes cost $1,000—money that many candidates simply do not have—and now I can (informally) prove it.

This year, focusing on MLA fields (because it’s the world I know, alas), I decided to let attendees speak for themselves. I put out a call for two weeks, asking academics in an open-source Google survey to answer questions like: Are you going? How much is it costing you? Since the survey was anonymous and all questions were optional, and it had a robust but hardly representative response of 213, I can’t say it was scientific. But it’s better than nothing, and the results were four figures of grim.

Ninety-two of my respondents self-identified as non-tenure-track faculty or unemployed, and of those, 40 had partial funding (usually about $500) to cover the cost, one lucky soul had a full ride to MLA, and 51 ( well over half ) had not received a single cent of aid. Sadly, the unfunded group included all self-identified adjuncts, the group who earn by far the least and need full-time employment the most. All told, the average out-of-pocket expenses reported by these non-tenure-track respondents was $1,177.

well over half Grad students fared slightly better, if only because more of them seemed to apply for MLA grants (13 out of the 71 respondents reported receiving money from the association for conference-related costs). Still, 23 of the 71 grad-student respondents (slightly more than a third) reported that they had received no funds from any source. Of those who did get financial help, the amount of aid averaged $523. Three lucky stiffs got full support, if you count the one who reporting spending only $5 out of pocket (that’s some accurate calculation right there). Grad students reported that the cost they incurred to attend MLA— “just to interview”— averaged $1,023.

Let’s get to those tenured profs I apparently hate so much, 50 of whom were magnanimous enough to answer my survey despite my alleged constant and avowed hatred. Oh wait, they paid through the nose, too! A full 22 of them—many on the job market themselves, after tenure denials, for example—attended entirely on their own dimes. Yes, 12 of them were lucky to be funded in full (all presenting papers)—a much higher percentage than their contingent compatriots. But 16 were still out for some of the cost, and said their average out-of-pocket expenses were $1,067.

Oh wait, Over all, the average travel cost to Vancouver (factoring in those who used frequent flier miles, live in the area, or could drive) was a painful $625, and the average outlay for lodging (including, again, the respondents who bunked with family or friends, or crammed four to a room Mardi Gras style) was $410. Many attendees also reported having to renew passports and visas, food and in-town transport costs, and conference membership and registration. Of all those who paid anything out of pocket, expenses averaged $1,076.

Anyone with half a conscience should recognize these costs as a disturbing barrier to entry in a profession that already has too many. So how do departments continue to defend conference interviews?

I’m delighted to report that fewer people can now get away with saying they prefer to interview face-to-face, because they realize that makes them sound out of touch and ridiculous. Meanwhile, the MLA leadership has itself been outspoken about its preference to move away from the conference interview.

So who are the holdouts?

Some argue, with good intentions, that conference interviews were established to circumvent the old-school status quo, whereby Old Boy at University A called up his Old Boy Mentor at University B and said, “I’ve got just the man for you!”

@pankisseskafka @jennirach 70's: no internet, next to 0 women full profs or people of color, etc. Dept chair often decided whom to hire. — Rosemary G. Feal (@rgfeal) December 21, 2014

By forcing universities to undergo a transparent and uniform process—which sometimes involved dropping one’s CV to participating departments on-site and being called for an interview cold!—the conference interview valiantly fought the country-club style of academic hiring.

But times, friends, they have a-changed. Sure, it’s 2015 and we’ve still got no hover-skateboards, but the idea that abolishing the conference interview would directly result in the return of the Old Boys’ Network is exactly the kind of bananas false dichotomy that mucks up many an undergrad paper. This would, indeed, be a valid stance to take if and only if there were no viable (easy, free) way to recreate the conference interview, only without the hotel bed and the $1,000.

To put it simply, I agree with the leadership of the MLA that all first-round interviews should now be held remotely, free to candidates:

@pankisseskafka @jennirach A model I like: depts wld do all first-round interviews by videoconf; 2nd round at #MLA if they pay candidates. — Rosemary G. Feal (@rgfeal) December 21, 2014

If a hiring department wants to do a second round at the conference, that department should invite a shorter list of candidates to the meeting—and foot the bill (go ahead and pitch a fit—MLA’s idea, not mine). And, as always, the final round should be on campus, again funded by the hiring department.

Other than the often-extortionate Interfolio costs—and the price of some nice duds should an interview materialize (and, OK, the man-hours)—the academic job search should not cost candidates a penny. In fact, any department that demands candidates (and, for that matter, interviewers!) adhere to an outdated pay-to-play system should have its right to interview at the convention suspended altogether.