When I rebooted this blog back in July I promised that now I was no longer SPNHC president, I would be able to tell it like it is. I’ve spent quite a few years thinking about the profession of collections care, but I’ve always had to temper what I really felt against my desire to attract new, talented people into museums. But now I feel the need to balance that with a healthy dose of reality, and so I present for your attention The Five Ages of Collection Management.
The twenties. Freshly minted from your undergraduate degree or from grad school, you secure a job working with museum collections. Your knowledge is pitifully deficient, but you are confident and energetic and eager to learn. You are genuinely baffled by the negativity of your more experienced colleagues, because this is the best job in the world!
The thirties. This is when you hit your stride, the combination of energy and a few years’ experience making for a killer one-two punch that will allow you to remorselessly drive through almost any obstacle placed in your way. You will reorganize, re-curate, and upgrade collections and revel in the belief that you are genuinely making a difference. You are a collections warrior. Nothing can stop you.
The forties. By now you’re starting to look for new challenges and potentially new positions. Strangely, most of these opportunities, if they exist at all, seem to involve lateral moves to similar jobs in different institutions. Your contemporaries in other professions have passed you by, and you start to get a nagging sensation that you may be in this job for a long time.
The fifties. Oh dear. You may have moved institutions one or more times, and maybe got an ad hominem promotion, but you’re still doing more-or-less the same job you did in your thirties. You now work for a curator who’s younger than you are, who’s looking to “shake things up a bit.” She’s eager to see you “grow” in your job. After more than twenty years, you’re wondering what’s left to grow.
The sixties. With retirement beckoning, you’re still there. That world-conquering enthusiasm has atrophied; you still love the collections, but now you’re only interested in being left alone to research the history of some of your more obscure collectors. Your supervisors are comparing you unfavorably to the younger generation of collection managers and wondering whether you could be persuaded to take early retirement to make room for someone younger. Where did it all go wrong?
Well first up, it’s possible that it may not have gone wrong at all. There are some people out there who enjoy their job so much that the thought of doing the same thing for forty years holds no qualms at all. If you’re fortunate enough to be one of those people, good luck to you and you probably don’t need to read the rest of this post.
For everyone else, there are some solid reasons why collection management isn’t much of a “career” in the sense that this word is usually understood. There are a very small number of jobs worldwide, and those jobs are fairly specialized. Perversely, this means that they’re not particularly valued, because there’s no job market – it’s not like your employer has to be aggressive with salary and other benefits, either to recruit you or to stop you moving on.
Once you’ve got a job, you’re likely to find yourself in a fairly “flat” (i.e. non hierarchical) management structure. Most collection managers (at least in the American system) report to a curator and if they’re lucky they’ll have a collections assistant working for them; many don’t. For a collections assistant, there is at least the possibility of promotion to collections manager, but if curators are tenured, academic positions in your institution then that’s probably as far as promotion in-house will go.
Some institutions recognize this and have mechanisms to reward staff in post, by giving them additional salary and responsibilities. Unfortunately, the reality of a flat management system is that someone always has to do the basic work, and if there’s no one below you, that person is you. So your career development is less like climbing a ladder, and more like doing a reverse bungee jump; however high you climb, you’re still going to have to pack those loans.
At the same time, paradoxically, our jobs are both highly sought-after and technically challenging. They tend to attract smart, well-qualified people. So the potential for frustration is high. There is also – as Beth Merritt recently pointed out in an excellent CFM blog post – the problem of entitlement; smart, talented people working for poor wages in a structure that has no potential for promotion often end up thinking that merely by turning up every day they are doing their museum a favor, because they could be earning more elsewhere. This is a particularly toxic situation and lies at the root of many of the personnel problems that affect museums.
So what can be done about this? Some responsibility, inevitably, lies with employers, who need to think more about how to motivate staff in the long term. This process needs to start before you even make a hire. Job descriptions for collection management positions commonly use a “kitchen sink” approach, defining every possible activity that might be associated with managing the collection and adding a catchall “and other duties as assigned” in case they’ve forgotten something. This essentially means that no matter how your job or skill set develops over time, it’s impossible to argue for a promotion.
It’s a common approach, but – to be blunt – it’s also cheap and irresponsible; cheap because it’s a underhand way of capping salaries, and irresponsible because it ducks the employer’s obligation to invest in developing their human resources. A more honest approach would be to accept that people develop their skill set over time and to create job descriptions and a salary structure that reflect this. There are not so many collection managers in your institution that this will break the bank, assuming that you actually build potential for salary growth into your budgeting.
Another thing that employers can do to motivate staff in the long term is to diversify their workplace experience. Mix things up – create multi-disciplinary groups to tackle specific problems, or consider rotating staff between different collections and operational units to diversify their expertise. It’s also important to challenge staff; assigning jobs to people that take them outside their comfort zone.
Related to this, one of the most effective tools for motivating staff is delegation. Effective delegation is not a way of dumping your low-grade or boring tasks down the chain to more junior staff. As a manager, your criterion for delegation should be tasks that you would actually enjoy doing yourself if you had the time. Give challenging jobs to your staff and trust them to get on with them.
However, it’s not simply the responsibility of employers. As a current or potential collection manager, you need to take responsibility for yourself. And the first step in this process is a reality check.
The fact is that if you take a job in collections, you're not going to be paid much and your prospects for promotion will be limited. Furthermore, if you adopt a non-curatorial, non-faculty track - at least in the USA - it is unlikely that you will ever be in a senior managerial role in your institution and so your ability to effect change will be limited. If this is a problem for you, you may want to consider another career path. There are other jobs in the museum sector that are better rewarded and have better prospects.
Having said so, there are many advantages to working in collection management. Setting aside the pleasure of actually working directly with the amazing objects we hold, the job is diverse and if you prove yourself competent the chances are you will be allowed a fair amount of latitude to develop your own interests. But you need to take a level of responsibility for doing this; it is unlikely that your employer will do it for you. And, realistically, you may have to do some of this on your own time.
One important way that you can gain additional training and experience – and this is a shameless plug – is to get involved in professional societies like SPNHC. The training, usually in the form of workshops, is the hook by which you can justify participation to your employer, but it’s involvement in the running of these societies that will give you exposure to activities and projects at a level and scale that you wouldn’t necessarily get in your day-to-day job (enlightened employers recognize this as well).
When I started out working with collections, I swore that I would never end up like the various institutionalized miseries that I encountered at work. I'm in the middle one of the Five Ages at the moment, and I will admit to feeling a little nervous. But I'm working hard at sustaining a diverse range of projects and activities in my job, because I've also come to realize that if I'm still here and miserable in my sixties, it will be far worse if I have only myself to blame.