The Ethics of Writing Recommendation Letters
We all have to do it. Let's try to do it right.
By Joe Schall
The Dick Van Dyke Show offered many mini-lessons in good behavior, cautioning us about eavesdropping on our neighbors, sticking our big toe in the bathtub faucet, walking near ottomans, and—in episode 108—writing recommendation letters. In that episode, Neil Schenk, an old pal of main character Rob Petri, asks Rob to write him a positive recommendation letter for a job, playing on Rob’s guilt about owing him an ancient favor. The hapless Rob waffles, feeling he can write only a neutral letter at best, leading Neil to write his own letter, which he manipulates Rob into signing. In the end, of course, the morally straight Rob opts to tell the truth to Neil and his prospective employer. Because it’s the world of the sitcom, Rob and Neil’s old friendship is nevertheless preserved. In the real world of academia, almost every professor must regularly write recommendation letters. Although the ethics of the act are seldom discussed and rarely studied, at least two dissertations—both in the 1930s—tackled the subject of faculty recommendation letters. A 1936 study, A Scale for the Evaluation of School Administrators’ Letters of Recommendation for Teachers, quotes actual letters written to recommend public schoolteachers. Note the directness and delightful irony in a few selections:
“Some people in this section have questioned her deportment on certain occasions. . . . I feel that she might do better work in another community.”
“Miss N came to us a year ago. She has been in three different systems in the four years of her experience. . . . We don’t feel that we should prevent Miss N from continuing her annual change.”
“His pupils are fairly well interested in their work, but never excel. I believe you could procure his services at his present salary.”
“Please destroy this letter when you have read it.”
This last quotation is my favorite, both because it openly betrays the recommender’s concern that the letter not “fall into the wrong hands,” and because the reader of the letter obviously did not comply with the request. Even this small sampling demonstrates just how times have changed; it is hard to imagine writing a letter today with this kind of commentary and candor.
In some ways, however, things have stayed just the same. The following observations from a 1935 study, Letters of Recommendation: A Study of Letters of Recommendation as an Instrument in the Selection of Secondary School Teachers, remain pertinent today:
a. The writer of testimonials and letters of recommendation is likely to view his task lightly.
b. The writer for mere accommodation will often exceed his knowledge or falsify it.
c. There is no way of checking against errors.
d. Bias or carelessness of the writer is a factor.
e. The writer may overstate or underestimate the case of the candidate.
f. The writer may simply make inadequate statements perfunctory in character.
Before we sit down to write our next recommendation letter, we can address these problems by considering the relevant ethical issues.
Ethical Responsibilities
None of us got where we are professionally without the help of recommendation letters written on our behalf. Most of us therefore feel obliged to write letters for students whenever they ask. We do so recognizing that hyperbole in recommendation letters is common practice and vaguely fearing that the letter might somehow end up in a student’s hands. Both credible praise and effective criticism are, however, part of our responsibility. Although it would be difficult to prove, I suspect that students who waive access rights to their letters rarely see them and seldom raise a fuss when they do see them—if we manage the circumstances properly. Further, we’re not obliged to write letters simply because we’re asked to do so.
Both faculty and students have certain protections built into the letter-writing process. Academic policies (and common sense) tell us to avoid making potentially discriminatory comments about race, gender, sexual orientation, politics, or disability. In 1974, the Family Education Rights and Privacy Act gave students the right to inspect letters written about them. Later, the Buckley Amendment gave them the option of waiving access and required them to let their references know if they so chose. Confidential letters of recommendation are now the norm, and for good reason. All parties are more comfortable when a student opts for a confidential letter, and such a letter will likely be perceived as more honest. Thus, we typically urge students to waive their access rights by assuring them that doing so is the standard practice held in much higher favor by employers and selection committees.
A 2002 study by the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, Evaluation and the Academy: Are We Doing the Right Thing?, suggests a dual ethical responsibility to students and to the evaluators reading recommendation letters. On serving the needs of the evaluators: “ A rephrased Golden Rule is the best guide: write to others the kind of letter of recommendation you would like to receive from them.” Although by definition a recommendation letter will always be positive, recommenders serve their students and academia best by writing a letter in which praise is measured and exacting, where superlatives are backed up by examples, and where statistics about student ranking or quality are used with consistency and great care.
Praise and Criticism
A letter of recommendation lives or dies on its examples and evidence. Among the best ways to present credible, concrete examples about a student’s accomplishments are to (a) compare the student to others, especially peers, graduate students, or professionals; (b) comment on the student’s role in your classroom dynamic; (c) offer the student’s grade, academic record, or other quantitative measure used for evaluation; (d) quote from a paper the student wrote or otherwise interpret the student’s qualitative work; (e) discuss the student’s contribution to a team or in a lab setting; and (f) discuss the student’s favorable contribution to the recommendation letter or application process itself, highlighting evidence of professionalism.
Amid your specific examples, keep in mind that letter writers should address general qualities that employers or selection committees like to see in candidates, such as initiative, trainability, scholarship, enthusiasm, leadership, self-motivation, adaptability, imagination, and communication skills.
To criticize artfully and appropriately when writing letters, consider the following suggestions:
a. Examine whether the application materials directly call for criticism. Many times, recommendation forms will invite your honest assessment of a candidate’s weaknesses. Take this as a sign that careful criticism is desired and cite that invitation as you give the critique.
b. Limit your criticism to one paragraph (probably late in the letter), and be direct and affirmative as you offer it, avoiding ambiguous comments that seem to be veiled criticisms. Even phrases such as “to the best of my limited knowledge” or “I suspect that” may be read as negative, no matter what praise follows. Better to say “his research skills are not yet proven with lab experience,” or “her teaching will improve once she gains a higher level of confidence.”
c. Avoid highly negative comments (looked on with as much suspicion as exaggerated praise), hedges, unexplained asides, and irrelevancies.
d. Discuss your criticisms with the student, note the response you get, and indicate right in the letter that this discussion and response took place.
e. Openly tie your criticism to your sense of ethics as a letter writer. Define yourself as a holistic evaluator.
Student Participation
I believe in partnering with the students for whom I write recommendations. I begin by asking their opinion of their accomplishments and shortcomings. Usually, they don’t praise themselves enough (although some overdo it, and I must provide a more mature perspective), and focus too intently on their weaknesses. Such a discussion fosters honesty between us and enables me to write a more evenhanded letter; I sometimes even include a student’s self-reflection as part of my text. Also, if I must write a limited or neutral letter for a student, I can admit that more easily if we’ve already had an open discussion.
Many letter writers smooth the process by developing a set of practices and policies for writing letters. Some professors state their standards and protocols right in their syllabi. Some invite students to write a summary of their accomplishments that can be adapted and incorporated into a letter, making it easier to generate detail. Some even allow the student to see a “blind copy” of the letter before or after it has been sent. The safest practice is to consider each case individually, based on your own comfort level and the student’s maturity.
The Need to Bow Out
Sometimes, the kindest, most responsible thing we can do for a student is to refuse to write a letter of reference. Most faculty members try to warm a student to this idea subtly, suggesting that they are too busy, that they’re not sure what to say, that there must be others who can write a more positive letter, or that they simply don’t know enough about the student, whom they might have had in class years ago. Savvy students will usually recognize such responses as the faculty code for “no,” but the savviest might offer you a resume, suggest a meeting, or send an e-mail to help you generate positive detail for a letter (a few have won me over by doing so). The pushiest students might insist that you really are the best recommender they’ve got, and that your letter is critical to their very existence.
Assuming that you still don’t want to write a letter, here are some good reasons for not doing so, which you might share with the student:
a. Your limited support of the student doesn’t match the weight of the opportunity—for example, in the case of a national scholarship or top graduate program—and your neutral or unsupportive letter might only do the student unintentional harm.
b. You really know nothing beyond the student’s recorded grades, and you’re not inclined to get to know more, for reasons of time or temperament.
c. You genuinely dislike the student, for good reason, perhaps because of bad classroom behavior such as chronic lateness or missed deadlines.
d. You’ve had encounters that indicate deep depression, unusual personal problems, or a level of anxiety that would affect the student professionally.
Admittedly, offering some of these reasons means you are sitting in judgment, and many faculty don’t feel comfortable sharing their true rationale with students. But good students always have options about whom they can ask for letters, and poor students and students in trouble need to face up to how they got there. Faculty who say no for good reason suffer less than those who agree grudgingly to write a letter, then feel conflicted in the act of giving praise. Like it or not, some students do need to accept no for an answer.
Joe Schall is Giles Writer-in-Residence in the College of Earth and Mineral Sciences at Penn State University. He is author of Writing Recommendation Letters: A Faculty Handbook, from which his article is adapted.
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