Michael Klenk is Professor of Practical Philosophy at the University of Technology Nuremberg (UTN). He began his career in business before finding his way to philosophy almost by accident. In this interview, he reflects on the role of strategy, luck, interdisciplinarity, and long-term vision in building an academic career in the humanities, and shares what he learned on his path to professorship.

Michael, you’re a Professor of Practical Philosophy today. Let’s start at the beginning: How did you first find your way into philosophy?

My path to philosophy and a professorship was somewhat unconventional.

My first degree was a very practically oriented business degree, which combined study and employment at a medium-sized fruit and vegetable wholesaler in Stuttgart. This was good for me at the time: School had not really suited me, and what I wanted most of all was to gain independence, which this practically oriented study afforded. Plus, the concept of research and a career in academia was, at the time, foreign to me – I just did not know much about it at all and it did not play a role in my social world.

My later turn toward philosophy began almost by accident. During a semester abroad in Australia as a business student, I had a “free course” to fill and chose an introduction to political philosophy. That blew me away! It was like nothing experienced before, and the philosophical approach and way of thinking really resonated with me – it felt natural and like something I always longed for but never really knew it existed.

After that wonderful experience, I knew that I wanted to continue studying philosophy – and worldly pursuits as a manager at a company or whatever I imagined before had to wait. So, after completing my business degree, I did a one-year MA in philosophy at University College London, which was fantastic and which reinforced my desire to explore more about the world of research and studying. By now, of course, studying was much more suited to me, given the greater independence you have as a student.

After your MA, you eventually decided to pursue a PhD. How did that transition come about?

So, I knew then that I wanted to pursue a PhD to keep studying, but I wasn’t ready yet to apply for PhD positions, and so I turned back to business and worked as a management consultant for two years. This was a very interesting and instructive time in its own right and taught me many useful skills e.g. in terms of project management and work ethic that were very useful in my later academic work. During my time as a consultant, I also started the distance learning degree in psychology, because I wanted to better understand empirical approaches to studying human behaviour and morality.

My philosophy master’s, study in psychology, and work experience then came together nicely when I applied for and eventually got accepted for a PhD position in a research project on evolutionary ethics at Utrecht University in the Netherlands. On paper, the position was a perfect fit for my interdisciplinary background. Equally important, however, was that my prospective promotor, Prof Herman Philipse, was willing to take (what to some might have seem like) a risk: I only had one year of formal education in philosophy under my belt, and yet he hired me for the position. I am forever grateful for his trust, because this was an absolutely crucial moment in my career.

There is also a larger lesson here about my career milestones: one the one hand, I put in the work and brought ‘hard’ credentials to the table (e.g. doing the psychology degree alongside my consulting work, grades, etc.). These were necessary. But they were not sufficient. It is also true, and was necessary, that I was lucky to be at the right place at the right time to meet someone who would be able to see value in what I could offer, even if or rather because it was not just conventional.

Another milestone for me was that I succeeded in my PhD, enjoyed the work, and began, for the first time, to begin recognising academic research as a career option.

You mentioned that an academic career was not initially on your radar. At what point did you begin to see research as a possible long-term career?

Until about the last year of my PhD, I wanted to learn and study, but I never had an academic career on my mind. Basically, I thought that it would be lovely to spend some more years studying and learning, especially if I would even get paid for it, like on my PhD position! How wonderful is that! And what a privilege considering, for example, the experiences I had working in different industries before outside academia. But beyond the world of studying, I knew very little about academia and the possibility of earning a living as a researcher. I just knew that I wanted to spend more time studying philosophy and the PhD seemed like an excellent choice. I wasn’t at all sure whether I‘d be good at it, let alone make a career of it.

Then three significant things happened. First, my PhD was going really well. I got a distinction in my PhD, which is very rare in the Netherlands, and this – along with several other external validations – allowed me to begin thinking that I could have a shot in trying for a career as a philosopher and ultimately a professorship. Second, I continued to enjoy philosophy as an occupation. And, third, my approach to philosophy changed fundamentally. Up until this point, I had pursued philosophy for the sheer interest in the subject. Now, I wanted to put myself in the best possible position for a job.

However, I had now also spent enough time in academia to understand how competitive and uncertain academic careers can be. I knew enough excellent, motivated researchers that, for some reason or other – or, actually, perhaps no reason at all – did not have a stable position yet. That uncertainty was intimidating to me, so I wanted to set myself clear limits to somehow contain it. Although I felt that I had a career in business as a fallback plan, I also knew that, the longer I stayed in academia, the harder it would be to go back to an (attractive) business career.

You also spoke about setting clear limits for yourself in the face of academic uncertainty. How did you approach this uncertainty, and what did those limits look like in practice?

I made a commitment with myself: I would try my luck, but vowed to leave academia if I could not find a stable position by a set time (a position that could sustain stably ways what else became important for me, most importantly, family-life and some security about where we would live). Luckily, things turned out well for me. Out of my PhD in 2018, I got a teaching position, a postdoc in an ERC project (both at TU Delft), and a personal grant in quick succession. With the grant, I spent a year abroad in the US and Switzerland, and then landed a tenure-track assistant professorship back at TU Delft in 2020.  At TU Delft, I met amazing colleagues that trusted an believed in in me. This is especially noteworthy because, between my PhD and my postdoc work, I changed research topics quite significantly and, again, it took the right people to appreciate what I bring to the table and to put their trust in me even though, by some measures, I might have been an unconventional choice.

Of course, these positions were important milestones. But what is also significant is a change of mind I experienced during these years, because I think was crucial in my growth as a researcher. During my postdoc and early tenure-track phase, I was very much in ‘shotgun mode’ – chasing grants and publications in all directions, and on any topic that I found remotely interesting because I now understood – and became accustomed to – the incentives and norms of academia. I just kept myself very, very busy and productive.

However, after one or two years on the tenure track, I felt that this approach would lead to scientifically and personally satisfying results in the long-term. If I really wanted a career, long-term, I felt that I needed to change things up. Around that time, I was granted tenure at TU Delft in 2023, which gave me a sense of security and freed me of the (real or imaginary) need to produce outputs for the sake of my tenure evaluation and proving my worth as a researcher. Shortly after that, I attended the 2023 GSO leadership academy, which was the perfect environment to think long-term and to develop a vision for my research that would reckon with limited time and resources and my deepest interest.

You described a shift from being in “shotgun mode” to developing a more focused research agenda. How did you arrive at that long-term vision for your research?

I decided that I would focus all my energy and focus on what was then only one aspect of my work, namely the study of the ethics of (online) manipulation. I felt most interested in this work (I mean, studying manipulation means studying anything from nudging to propaganda and the ethics of interpersonal relations – and what could be more interesting than that?), and I sensed that I could still make a meaningful contribution. When I began to work on the topic, there was hardly any philosophical attention to manipulation but, at the same time, the potential future implications were already becoming palpable, e.g. in light of ethical questions around social media.

From that point onward, I began to build an international network and research programme around the study of (online) manipulation. I build momentum in this area with several publications, smaller grants, and group projects. I also consulted companies, and engaged in outreach around this topic. All of this eventually helped me win an ERC Starting Grant on the ethics of manipulation in 2024 and, in 2025, finally, I received the “Ruf” for my W3 full professorship as a Professor of Practical Philosophy at the University of Technology Nuremberg (UTN).

At GSO, we often encourage researchers to “set themselves up for lucky coincidences” through preparation and strategy. How do you reflect on the interplay between preparation, hard work, and luck in your own path?

As with my PhD position before, the required milestones were a combination of effort, ‘hard’ credentials and luck – being at the right place at the right time. To understand why, consider the fit between UTN and my profile. UTN is the first newly founded public university in Bavaria almost 30 years, and it aims to integrate the study of technology and the liberal arts and social sciences. It tries to do things in a new and perhaps unconventional way. It fosters interdisciplinarity. In many ways, I felt that this is what I stand for, and so I feel tremendously lucky that such a position came up at the right time.

Considering this last milestone, consider again what I could control and what was beyond my control. That this position came up, and that there were again people seeking to hire someone with a profile that is – by some measures – still unconventional for professional philosophy were beyond my control. All I could do was to put in the work and strive to build a competitive profile. That was crucial and necessary, but I hope is clear now, not sufficient for clearing that milestone. Not everything is within our control, not in life in general, and in no career; and perhaps especially so in academia.

Looking back on your career so far, what advice would you give to researchers who are considering an academic career?

What I would advise, and what helped me, is that one tries to be in love with the things that one can control, and to be conscious about which sacrifices one is willing to make for an outcome that is not a given. Ideally, one would just cherish every bit of the very process of working toward a professorship. This is unrealistic. As any work, it is hard and not always fun, especially if one wants to secure those things that are necessary to succeed in an incredibly competitive, international environment. But if it remains possible to make a conscious choice about what one is willing to give up in order to have a shot and otherwise, generally, enjoy the process, I think it remains an incredibly rewarding walk of life – even if a professorship would not come to pass.

Finally, besides formal milestones, meeting the right people and receiving their trust and support were incredibly significant and important moments in my career. In some measure, I am glad that me succeeding with my work as a philosopher is also a testament to their good judgement.

In your appointment process, what do you think what aspects of your profile were particularly important beyond your research achievements and publications? 

What mattered most was probably the fit between my profile and the mission of the institution. UTN places a strong emphasis on interdisciplinary research, international experience, and societal engagement, particularly in relation to technology and artificial intelligence. Over the years, I had developed a research profile at precisely this intersection, combining philosophy with questions about digital technologies, AI, and human behaviour.

My background outside academia may also have been an advantage. Experience in business and management is not always highly valued in traditional philosophy departments, but it can be useful when helping to build a new institution from the ground up. Similarly, while I lacked deep familiarity with the German university system, I brought extensive international experience, which aligns well with UTN’s ambitions.

As for the German appointment process itself, I learned many of its unwritten rules only gradually. During one of my first appointment procedures, I asked when the second-round interview would take place—a perfectly ordinary question in the Dutch system, where multiple interview rounds are common. The reaction from the committee made it immediately clear that I had been ignorant of how German appointment procedures traditionally work (there is normally no second-round interview).

That experience motivated me to learn more about the German appointment process. I found the book Black Box Berufung particularly helpful, and later benefited greatly from spending time at LMU Munich as a Humboldt Scholar. Conversations with experienced professors helped me understand many of the formal and informal aspects of German academic culture that are difficult to learn otherwise.

Many postdocs wonder when they are “ready” to apply for a professorship. At what point did you personally feel prepared to apply, and how did you assess your own profile realistically?

I think that this is a highly individual matter.  I applied for assistant professorships in the Netherlands shortly after completing my PhD and was fortunate to obtain one after about two years. Not long afterwards, I also began applying for full professorships, largely because there was a wave of new positions being created in areas related to technology ethics and AI. Openings for professorships at a given university might be a unique, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and so I felt that I had to give it a shot. Plus, I had been contacted to apply for one of these positions early on, so I took that as a sign that I might be ‘ready.’ In retrospect, I may have started somewhat early. I did not receive an offer from those first applications, and the process required a considerable investment of time and energy. On the other hand, it gave me valuable experience and helped me understand more about how appointment processes work.

Visibility and networking are often discussed as important factors in academic careers. What role did professional networks, conferences, collaborations, or academic visibility play in your own path to a professorship?

They were absolutely crucial. Some of my most important research projects, collaborations, and opportunities grew out of conversations at conferences, workshops, and research visits. These interactions helped me refine my ideas and become part of scholarly communities that I genuinely enjoyed being part of. When collaborations grew out of shared intellectual interests and personal fit, they were are amongst the most rewarding aspects of academic life. Crucially, I think it is important to approach networking as something substantive rather than instrumental. If I ever tried to network for the sake of it, I always experienced it as tiring, cynical, and ultimately no good. It has thus helped me to not think of it as networking as such, but to ask myself whom I’d love to talk to about some idea or project for its own sake.

The appointment process for professorships in Germany can feel quite opaque to many applicants. Was there anything about the process that surprised you once you experienced it from the applicant’s perspective?

What surprised me most was how differently candidates and committees interpreted requirements. Once I read up on the German appointment process, I had the impression that there were clear rules governing what a successful application or job talk should look like. While there certainly are formal requirements, I was struck by how much variation exists in practice, even within a given appointment process.

In some appointment procedures I was a part of, candidates were invited to give public talks, and it was possible to attend the presentations of other applicants. What surprised me was how differently people approached the same task. Some focused heavily on past achievements, others on future research plans, teaching, institutional fit, or broader visions for the field.

That experience gave me much more calm and confidence in presenting in my own way. Preparation matters, of course, but every committee has its own priorities, and some uncertainty remains unavoidable, so its better to not try to second-guess what a committee might want to hear, but to present what you genuinely think matters.

Based on your experience, what practical advice would you give to postdocs in the humanities who are currently preparing for professorship applications in Germany?

My most important advice would be to seek out mentors and senior colleagues who are willing to discuss career planning openly. There are certainly some basic requirements that one needs to satisfy, such as a strong publication record and various other criteria that are also highly field-specific. Beyond those fundamentals, however, academic careers involve a combination of strategic planning, persistence, timing, and luck.

I also think it is important not to lose sight of the reasons why you entered academia in the first place. Careers are built over many years, and sustaining motivation – and living a good life – requires more than simply meeting external expectations. Indeed, if one focuses only on meeting external expectations, then there are surely many careers that are more suitable and rewarding than being an academic. Doing research and teaching probably works best when one remains connected to questions one genuinely cares about.

As you’ve also mentioned, you were part of the GSO Leadership Academy. In what ways did this experience influence your professional development, leadership approach, or perspective on academic careers?

The GSO Leadership Academy came at a particularly important moment in my career. By that stage, I had already achieved a degree of stability through tenure and was beginning to think less about short-term career goals and more about the kind of scholar and leader I wanted to become. The Academy provided a wonderful environment for reflecting on these questions together with colleagues from different disciplines and career stages. Perhaps the most important insight for me was that time and attention are limited resources. Early-career researchers are often encouraged to maximise outputs, pursue multiple opportunities, and remain open to everything. While that can be useful at certain stages, and I feel it has been useful to me, up to a point, it eventually becomes necessary to make choices and develop a clearer sense of direction.

The Academy encouraged me to think more deliberately about my long-term research vision. It played an important role in my decision to focus much more strongly on the ethics of manipulation, which has since become the central theme of my research programme. More broadly, it helped me realise that I was at a point where, as an academic leader, I was free to not only focus on individual achievement but much more on creating environments in which others can do their best work. That is a perspective I now try to bring to my role as a professor.