The future of our universities🍋
Some observations on a civilised discussion featuring genuine enquiry
The symposium organised by the New Zealand Initiative and Free Speech Union to discuss “The Future of Our Universities” generated a civilised discussion characterised by genuine enquiry. A theme of Jonathan Rauch’s keynote address, unusually placed at the end of the proceedings, described an aspect of the symposium, that of academics talking to academics in search of solutions.
Perhaps it was more a common-room conversation than academics practising their crafts. While “disciplinary degradation” was identified as one of the current problems of universities, contributions to the discussion were characterised by freedom from disciplined thought, degraded or otherwise. There is, of course, a place for free-ranging discussion but the future of universities also requires the kind of focused thought exemplified by disciplined academic inquiry. (The distinction is related to that between political debate and policy development, both having their place but being distinct. The distinction was not obvious in a question which seemed to contemplate Cabinet making decisions — the quintessential political process — in a manner akin to an academic department deciding on syllabus content.)
What follows below is a collection of thoughts in response to the discussion on the day, clustering around the role and purpose of the university and its relationship to society.
The role of Research & Development in economic growth was treated in the discussion as an opportunity for speculation without reference to the very substantial literature on the subject. Familiarity with the literature might have induced some caution about assuming that all research stimulates an economic return, or that research-oriented institutions are those best suited to pursuing innovation. (We no longer have the Ministry and Foundation of “Research, Science & Technology” to remind us of the folly of merging two familiar labels, research & development, and science & technology and expecting the named entity to pursue the omitted “development”.) There is also a literature on curiosity-driven research, strategic research, and applied research, any of which may be the research that enables degree-level teaching to be done in an environment where knowledge is created as well as maintained and disseminated.
I think it was J.L. Austin who commented that the line between simplification and oversimplification would be the occupational hazard of philosophers if it were not their occupation, and he could have said the same of academics. So a question about “public good”, intended, I think, in the technical language of economics, was understood to be about the legal concept of “public interest” or even the common-language usage of “something I approve”. The core economic sense of “non-rivalrous and non-excludable” as an analytical tool for demarcating the spheres appropriate for public expenditure and private expenditure would have made it possible to take university funding out of the realm of “we want more”. “Under-funded” is a sure sign that thought has given way to slogans.
The “graduate premium” has not diminished
The notion that universities have too many students is one that I thought died in the 1960s with discussion of the Robbins Report in terms of “more means worse”. The discussion then seemed to terminate in agreement that it was true only of the quality of university staffs. At Nuffield College the economics and history students thought that applied especially to sociology departments; the philosophy students are presumably still trying to identify the disciplinary boundaries. Mike Grimshaw in “Can’t read, can’t write, can’t comprehend – & won’t think…?” seems to extend his (sociologist’s) vision to schools and to “a broken pre-tertiary education system, a broken international student recruitment system – and, an increasingly broken society.” Presumably he does not advocate abandoning compulsory schooling, or still more, limiting society to qualified entrants?
The discussion at the symposium led me to think in the other direction, that the comments on inadequately prepared students entering universities from schools would surely be paralleled by comments on university graduates if there were a quaternary education sector. They are by employers, but it was clear that non-academics would not be regarded as authoritative, and in any case, their behaviour is not consistent with dismissive rhetoric.
One comment in the discussion was insufficiently recognised. That was that the “graduate premium” has not diminished. Despite the increased proportion of graduates in the population, employers still find it worthwhile to pay them more. Interestingly, the same point was made in a comparable discussion of the “crisis” in “What’s going wrong with Britain’s universities?” (It is more evident in London than in much of the country; I suspect that in London signaling is more needed and understood, and the range of occupations relies more on graduate skills.)
Recognising that degrees have value to employers does not imply that university study is seen as “commercial”. On the contrary, stimulation of creativity is always to be welcomed. It may be achieved by vocational subjects as well as by humanities – book-keeping, history and mathematics were the school subjects that most stimulated me, and there was ready recognition at the symposium of the role of creativity in the sciences. Perhaps more depends on how subjects are presented than on their content. We should remember that many current “subjects” emerged as specialisms from wider areas of enquiry or in the borders of related areas, and expect evolution to continue. Examples include Political Science evolving from History and Philosophy, and Economic History from History and Economics.
There is indeed reason to wonder whether fashions will prove to be enduring, but the content of established disciplined is not fixed. Even a Bachelor of Tourism Management could be the platform for liberal education, although equally it might not be – but then nor might teaching in English or chemistry. And I suspect that the size of a university devoted entirely to creativity for which taxpayers or students would be prepared to pay is very small. We should remember the vocational element in divinity, science, law and literature as taught by the medieval university.
It would be useful to have more care about the terms “science” and “research”. “Truth-seeking” and “creation and preservation of knowledge” more accurately identify the proper concern and avoid an artificial distinction between science and humanities. Those terms also suggest that we should be alert to changes over time. I endorse the view that “Enlightenment values” are central to what I look for in a university, and that in many areas of enquiry, this is promoted by the approach through what Popper called “objective knowledge” (which may not be what is considered “objective” in an everyday sense). Application of logic and systematic employment of empirical observation, all knowledge being provisional and subject to further testing, is indeed a pathway to knowledge. However, unless we are prepared to give this stance some mystical or religious status — and I am not — it is hard to see how anything other than its utilitarian results distinguishes it from other values, whether mātauranga Māori or any other set of cultural beliefs. The distinction between “teaching” and “teaching about” is surely insecure.
Concerned with knowledge, not information
I am content to use the utilitarian value of “objective knowledge” to justify the claims of education on society’s resources. It is indeed possible that universities are as subject to “creative destruction” as newspapers, but universities are concerned with knowledge, not information. In the course of advancing, maintaining and disseminating knowledge, they provide students with opportunities to learn many different skills and abilities
We need the further concepts of excludability and rivalry to begin assessment of how the costs of education should be divided between direct beneficiaries and others. The current system of university funding, much amended over the years, began in the 1980s in an effort to reflect that thinking. (Along with the provision of public loans to enable students to pay the private cost only as they received higher salaries as a result of their learning. This was intended to free students, especially women, from parental control, and to ameliorate the influence of social disadvantage.) There would be funding for teaching and for research. For the former, the adoption of “student years” was never regarded as more than an approximation to what society as a whole gained from additional learning, but no better metric has been devised. It was immediately confounded by notions that some subjects were more “costly” than others, as though costs were entirely exogenous and relative costs were fixed at those historically experienced. (The University Grants Committee (UGC) identified realised relative costs with the “revealed judgement” of universities when they were actually the result of relative difficulties in recruiting for different disciplines.) The intent was that universities should have discretion in setting their prices. But they were not trusted, and their managements did not want responsibility.
The system design was that the funding of universities could be separated from universities’ management of their resources. Funding streams for teaching and for research would feed integrated teaching & research units. Of course, academic staff would scrutinise how the activities of individuals, groups and departments contributed to university funds and argue for their “entitlement” to the relevant funds. University managers would have to justify how they allocated resources. Over time, there seems to have been an abdication of management and a general sense that government centrally distributes funds within universities. The intention was probably idealistic; the UGC had been forced to disclose how the “bulk funding” of individual universities was calculated and that set up pressures for change (as well as generating highly fantastical rationalizations). Finding a funding system which gives the right long-term incentives will be a challenge to the Universities review group. But far from “managerialist” domination, university managers turned themselves into conduits for decisions made elsewhere.
The reverse of economic accountability
It was somewhat odd at the symposium to hear not only that universities are subject to “managerialism” but that universities “are inappropriately required to justify everything in economic terms”. The meaning of “managerialism” is not self-evident, but the principal complaints seemed to be that academics are no longer in charge and that there are too many non-academic staff. Certainly, unduly lengthy, detailed, and trivial “policies” and “procedures” have proliferated, creating a demand for administrators; and departments and faculties have declined in significance. That is the reverse of economic accountability. I am conscious that I can recall hearing in the 1960s that the university had become bureaucratic and impersonal but despite this being an old chestnut it's worth considering whether it may now be true? (On the other hand, I would be reluctant to give management responsibilities to somebody who seemed to confuse funding of research with the size of research grants to somebody whose salary originates elsewhere.)
The intention in the 1980s was to define “degree-level” as learning that enabled the learner to take control of their further learning. Whether or not the learning conferred skills that had practical utility, a degree signaled ability to continue as an independent learner. The notion that universities should combine degree-level teaching with research was derived from the belief that ability to transmit capacity for independent learning was facilitated by exposure to the process for understanding existing knowledge and recognising valid additions to it. Whether these beliefs constituted “objective knowledge” was not subjected to much rigorous testing. (In the symposium, there was no distinction between “universities” and “degree-level learning”. There should be. The days of a precious attitude of superiority based on terminology are far gone.)
The Education and Training Act is still accompanied by individual acts for each university and that they have provisions along the lines, “for the advancement of learning; and the maintenance and dissemination thereof by teaching and research there shall be a University called …” There is no doubt about the statutory purpose of universities. They have other social and practical consequences.
No unconditional license to pontificate
The term “critic and conscience of society” was introduced in the Report of the Working Group on Post Compulsory Education and Training 1988.1 The phrase was created by Wilf Malcolm, vice chancellor of Waikato University, and adopted in place of my convoluted drafting about the need for academics to use their expertise in the public interest, ensuring that their public pronouncements were based on their professional expertise. The catchy phrase was not intended to signal an unconditional license to pontificate.
That applies within the university too. Students should be free to learn; they should not be subjected to indoctrination. As we were recently reminded by Henry Ergas in “Universities offer course in self-serving cowardice”, Weber included freedom to learn among the four freedoms required for universities, the others being the freedom to make appointments on academic merit only, freedom of research, and freedom to teach. These freedoms are not unconditional and nor are they conferred entirely on individual academics. The freedom to teach may well be constrained by student demand that they be equipped to satisfy qualification requirements set by an outside body. Decisions about what to teach may be collective decisions of departments or faculties. Freedom to research may be constrained by departmental decisions about joint projects, and by access to equipment and assistants. Furthermore, rights are always balanced by responsibilities, and in exercising academic freedom, both students and staff have a responsibility to display seriousness, civility and tolerance.
Academic freedom is not entirely unique. Press freedom shares some characteristics, and so do the rights of assembly of many organizations. There is overlap with the general right of “free speech” which individual academics share with the population in general. While universities should refrain from declaring institutional views beyond advocacy for advancing, maintaining and disseminating knowledge, academics share freedom of speech within legal limits. As with membership of any collective organization, academics should be cognisant of how exercising their right to speech may impact on their colleagues. Just as public servants, when exercising their right to free speech, should ensure that they do not conflict with the political neutrality of the public service, so academics should be careful to respect the rights of their colleagues and students. Seeking authority from academic affiliation should be considered. Universities have an honourable tradition of respecting dissent, and in any case pursuit of knowledge must involve conscientious consideration and debate of conflicting ideas.
It is disconcerting that surveys report many academics feeling embarrassed or unable to discuss topics. “Embarrassment” may be of several kinds and mere unease about social constraints is not of much significance. But it is certainly concerning if academics fear that their senior colleagues require them to remain silent on public issues. Even if the restraints are self-imposed in a mistaken view of what is acceptable, that would be a departure from the appropriate “community of scholars” nature of a university. University leaders, both those holding formal positions of authority and those with established achievements and reputations, should show that respectful debate remains free.
Few institutions have prospered simply by resisting change
We should remain sensitive to possible changes over time in what society considers reasonable boundaries around free speech. We would not welcome revival of what were once considered appropriate blasphemy laws. Societies here and elsewhere seem to be evolving different ideas of how identities should be recognised and treated. Few institutions have prospered simply by resisting change. But we should certainly resist the notion that merely claimed possible emotional “harm”, usually to others, is a reasonable limit. Exploration of competing ideas is too important for such a limitation to be tolerable.
Evolution will continue
The symposium provided a good deal of thought about “the future of our universities”. More can be expected from evolution than from short-term imposed change.
By Gary Hawke
»»»» Related post: We expect too much from universities
Wellington: Government Printer, 1988.
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