Oxford University Press reviews

If you ask Oxford University Press what their stance is on a starting wage of $30k in NYC with unpaid OT expected but never acknowledged, or the fact that this non-profit makes a HEFTY profit that’s then sent back to Oxford University as a cash surplus (you know, since Oxford has historically been hard up for money...), or their long history of imperialism and racism, or how most of the editorial board meetings are simply a rerun of a Mad Men episode meant to illustrate how things were in “the past,” or the rampant violations of basic employment law or standard HR compliance, or the fact that the most prestigious and well-respected University press in the world is just...an utter disappointment to anyone with a love of teaching, writing, editing, or just...creating things that have a purpose and do something? Well, OUP’s answer would be: “Oxford.” Truly, that’s the beginning and end of their business strategy, let along their approach to community engagement—“Oxford. O-X-F-O-R-D.” You want to know why books published by OUP have ISBNs? Underpaid assistants. You want to know why these books have covers to show to the world? Longtime talent in the design department. You want to know who makes it so that these books are printed and distributed? Manufacturing. And still, OUP has one answer, and one answer only—and they know it will not be enough.

There's absolutely no diversity, the managers are incompetent at best and downright abusive at worst (it was mostly worst). I was yelled at, gossipped about, left off of emails and meetings, not because I ever received a poor performance review (I didn't, rather all my reviews were glowing), but because the editors and upper management are egotistical, self-centered, bratty, and resistant to feedback. I spent many, many days crying or having panic attacks at or after work. The office is permeated by white feminism, cisheteronormativity, and a flagrant condescension that floats through the air in a WASPy mist of passive aggression. Naive post-college kids, armed with fancy publishing course certificates and Daddy's extra income, come in week after week being told that they will move up, that being good at their jobs will take them far, that if they don't want to take the job for peanut salaries, then some other rich white kid living in Chelsea will be right around the corner and one day become the next star editor of Nobody Reads These Books, published Spring 2032. In reality, no one is promoted, the pay is beyond laughable even if you do move up, and the amount of money you'll spend on therapy to feed your emptied soul negates it anyway. No, in reality you'll spend a few years being verbally abused by crusty Eurocentric editors, each more pseudo-liberal than the last, before you realize you DESERVE BETTER and get out fast as you can for a real job.