Is it Free Labor or a "Harmless" Academic Favor? How to Tell Which Academic Favors Are Worth Your Time

I recently made a reel on Instagram that went kind of viral. It was about a time a professor who mentored me asked me to prepare some class materials for them when I was not their TA or had anything to do with the class. In other words, this was free academic labor dressed up as a harmless "favor." They asked me, someone they had power over, precisely because they knew it would be hard for me to say no.

That video has become one of my most-watched reels, which tells me many of you have a story like this too.

But academia isn’t always that clear-cut. Plenty of requests land in a gray zone where something is being exchanged, even if nobody says so out loud. Research assistance translates into a professor inviting you to co-author an article. A senior colleague asks you to help organize a panel, and the panel looks good on your CV. Some of those are the best things that will happen to you in your career. Others are free labor with a flattering label.

The skill is telling them apart. This blog is about considering every small “favor” as a strategic decision about your time, the point being that you get to decide which ones earn it and which should be refused.

How do you know if an academic favor is worth your time?

Here are five questions you should ask yourself to evaluate whether this is something worth pursuing.

1. Does it build my CV?
A co-authored article with an established scholar gives you a publication, a collaborator, and a name that editors recognize. Formatting that same scholar’s bibliography just 'cause gives you nothing you can list. Before you say yes, try to name the line it adds to your CV. If you can’t, that’s instructive information.

2. Is anyone else being paid?
Look at who is getting compensated for this project. If the grant funds a research assistant, the conference organizers get a stipend, or the professor is paid to deliver the work, and you’re the only unpaid person involved, ask why.

3. Would my advisor do this unpaid?
If the answer is “never in a million years,” the request deserves a second look. The person asking has decided this work has value, and they’re asking you to absorb the cost in terms of your time/effort.

4. Did I get a real choice?
Could you say no and have nothing change? When the person asking writes your letters, sits on your committee, or controls your funding, “would you mind?” is often a directive in polite clothing. If refusing feels risky, the favor is not really a favor.

5. What does this cost me, and what would I do with that time otherwise?
Time is something everyone is short of in academia. For caregivers or new mothers in academia like I was, time is particularly critical. When your writing time comes in twenty-minute windows during naps, three hours of unpaid work for someone else may be most of your week. That’s the time you need for the article that does count toward your own career.

When does saying yes make sense?

Sometimes it makes complete sense. Yes can be the right answer when you can name what you’re getting: authorship, a strong letter of recommendation, an introduction to an editor, a skill you want to build, or a relationship you want with a scholar you admire.

If the payoff is only implied, ask about it. Something like “I’d be glad to help with this. Would it come with [name compensation you want]?” is a perfectly professional question. A fair collaborator will give you a straight answer. If the response is vague, or you get a “we’ll see,” you’ve learned how much the work is worth to them.

What about helping each other as friends?

Many academics read and edit each other’s work as part of real, generous friendships built on mutual intellectual respect. I’ve benefited from that kind of exchange, and that is its own return on your time. Your friends read your drafts and you read theirs, and everyone gets better.

I’m not talking about that here. I’m talking about situations where the return on your time and energy isn’t clear, especially when the person asking has more power than you do.

What if the answer is no?

You don’t owe a long explanation. A few lines that work:

• “I’m at capacity with my own writing right now, so I can’t take this on.”
• “I can’t do this one, but I’d be glad to look at it if it came with [authorship/a paid line/a clear end date].”

Neither one requires an apology, and neither one burns a bridge.

If you're a new mother in academia trying to navigate the expectations of chairs and advisors while desperately trying to feel like the scholar you were before baby, my coaching program offers the gentle and affirming support you need to prioritize motherhood and your career. Learn about it here.