Some thoughts while on strike for pensions and fair working conditions at UK universities

Staff at 68 UK universities are on strike over threatened pension cuts and unfair working conditions. So here I am again, on strike, sitting idly at home fighting the temptation to catch up on reading, finish *that* paper, or the (lesser) temptation to finish my marking or prepare the teaching that will resume after the strike.

And it is a difficult internal fight because, when it comes to research (and teaching too, mostly), academia is a vocation and a source of intellectual stimulation that is hard to resist. Sadly, this vocation and curiosity are in good measure the fuel on which the unfairness we are resisting keeps burning.

Universities (in the UK, and elsewhere) are only viable (or even profitable) organisations because they can access talent and dedication under often exploitative, and mostly below-market terms. It is well known that universities abuse the flexibility of (highly deregulated) labour markets to minimise payroll relating to teaching activities (eg through hourly-paid contracts or teaching only contracts not covering eg summer months). Universities also try to keep their ‘research competitiveness’ by eroding or simply dismantling progression systems for research-focused colleagues. Not to touch upon the derision of career opportunities in the professional services pathway. Even at the *higher-end* of the academic recruitment scale (lecturer and above), it is glaring that in many disciplines universities can hardly recruit at salaries that are a fraction of what industry can offer, and that the only reason they continue to recruit at all is either the attraction of academia as a vocation, or privilege that allows some (like myself) to take underpaid jobs because of other sources of privilege, or a mixture of both. All of this unavoidably leads to casualisation, gender, ethnicity and disability pay gaps, and inadequate and exploitative working conditions.

There is also the issue of Universities being made to run as a business in a very badly regulated quasi-market, with the most insane of the regulatory issues being the impossibility of sustainably operating under a fixed (excessive) fees income stream for teaching and dwindling research funding pots, while costs (should) raise (especially under high inflation scenarios, such as the one the cost of living crisis in the UK is evidencing). The only ‘way out’ that University managers (let’s not call them leaders, please) can find is to grow and try to find economies of scale (ie bums on seats) in courses with low infrastructure demands (and online/blended is helping them there), as well as to try to push costs down even beyond reasons, such as systematically offering below-inflation pay increases and seeking to chop pension costs. There is also the added strategy of sinking even lower down the exploitation chain and further resorting to labour under casualised and unfair terms and conditions.

Maybe somebody (in Government) thought that all of this could last because, as I said earlier, academia is a vocation and an occupation that can bring many (non-financial) rewards. But surely there are limits, and those were long exceeded.

What I do not understand, and may never get to understand, is why University managers do not realise that in pursuing their policies and doing the Government’s dirty job (of pushing UK academia down this unsustainable path), they are killing the institutions they are meant to steward (albeit in a timeframe that, they probably hope, will mean that their demise will not personally affect them).

Would it not be a more sensible approach to listen to staff and student concerns and *quickly* realise that the root of many problems is in the funding model, the poor regulation of the higher education quasi-market, and the exploitation and unfairness that underpins it all? Would it not be more sensible to galvanise the sector to lobby for a proper reform of the system that allows for its sustainable redirection?

I guess it would be, both better and more sensible, but it is certainly easier to continue cashing six figure salaries to try to firefight systemic issues … or so it seems. Shame on those who perpetuate the unfairness.

Doing your best, and yet feeling like failing -- let's talk more about challenges for academics be(com)ing parents

(c) Evangeline Gallagher/Guardian.

I have recently had a few exchanges with younger academic colleagues that have become parents. Given my own experience during the just over three years since I became a dad, I was not surprised (but still deeply saddened) to hear them express frustration at the lack of time to engage with research and intellectual stimulation in the way they wanted, and a consequent certain loss of their identity and sometimes sense of self-worth, and fears and worries about the impact that juggling new childcare responsibilities (which everyone found to be extremely fulfilling and rewarding, though) will have on careers and reputations, or even job stability.

What did surprise me, however, is that most colleagues felt that the situation was made worse because nobody talks about it, which fuels feelings of isolation and imposter syndrome (which I very much experience myself too), or can even push some to try to hide or certainly not volunteer the fact of their imminent or recent parenthood. So this post just tries to start a conversation and to say to each and every one of my academic colleagues facing a similar struggle, that I see you and I am always happy to talk about it. Please do reach out if you feel like it.

I am, of course, consciously aware of my privileged position as a middle-class, white, male professor, but I am also acutely aware of the fact that I got to this stage in my career before becoming a parent and I am also entirely convinced that I would not have progressed so quickly in academia if I had been a parent at a younger age. As a result of this, in my mind, I hold very complicated and contradictory thoughts and feelings: I have no reason to complain or to expect things to be any better, but I also do not deserve my position because it is one reflective of the merits and contribution of an Albert that no longer exists (the one always available, willing to overwork, to travel, the one that ‘was everywhere’ and was the first one to react to developments in my field). I feel bad that I cannot make the same sort of contribution I used to. And that is because I left it (and the reputation, prestige, or simply ego resulting from it) define me. I am no longer that person, so who am I and how can I still occupy the same space or have the same aspirations as the Albert that no longer is?

I am very happy that I took extended periods of shared parental leave to bond with and take care of my kids when they were babies, but I also struggled a fair bit during those periods of absence from academia. Especially during my second shared parental leave because I took it 'solo' (my partner went back to work) and I found myself craving some 'adult' / 'intellectual' conversation regularly. This led me to accept invitations to participate in training programmes and webinars during my period of leave, as I thought that would make the feeling subside. But, to the contrary, after each event I was left exhausted and feeling that I had both failed as an academic (my performances were well below what I would have liked due to sleep deprivation, mental rustiness and the unavoidable distractions of ‘zooming with a baby on your arms’) and, worse, that I had neglected my child and robbed her of some precious quality time.

And this has not stopped. To be 100% honest, I keep struggling with my new identity of parent academic (and increased imposter syndrome that comes with the need to say no even more than before, with the prioritisation of parent over academic) after having returned from the second leave a few months ago. I still have serious difficulty facing (and are yet to accept) the prospects of a more constrained academic life that really needs to be balanced with (a lovely) family. And this is not helped by the fact that I had set the bar so high for myself (both in my head and regarding institutional expectations), that I cannot but keep failing in my futile attempts at trying to clear it. I am honestly doing my best, and yet, every day, I feel I am failing.

When I can take a step back from those feelings (and it is hard not to swim, or even indulge in them), I can see that most of these feelings are probably in common with everyone else that becomes a parent and therefore sees their lives decentered (or recentered), but I think that perhaps this is particularly challenging for academics given ‘the way the system now works’ and the underappreciated role of self-confidence and self-believe in enabling us to perform our jobs at the level of ‘continuous and ever-increasing excellence’ expected from us.

I also think that the challenges are particularly acute for academics becoming parents because it is a major shock that probably puts a mirror in front of (most of) us that reflects how unsustainable and unbalanced our work/research/life was, although of course the challenges remain for academics being parents (at least for a good few years, I hear from most colleagues further advanced in their parenthoods).

And I also think this is probably only getting worse given the perverse dynamics of permanent assessment and benchmarking of our performance, as well as a de facto ‘up or out’ system where you are seen to fail unless you go from promotion to promotion in short periods of time — because, in the end, the social status of the profession has been degraded so significantly that there is a worrying perception that *just* having a permanent entry-level academic job (Assistant Professor or Lecturer, depending on the system) does not really recognise you as a weighty expert in your field (which it does, in my opinion).

So, here it is. At least I have emptied my brain. And I hope someone, somewhere will find some value in the reflection. And perhaps a conversation will start. I am here, and I am listening.

Some musings on COVID-19 academia & beyond

© Andy Maguire

Like every other sector, higher education is suffering the shock of the COVID-19 pandemic. We are still waiting to see whether the emergency transition to online teaching will work out and whether alternative assessments will deliver fair and appropriate results. This will forever be the ‘COVID-19 academic year’, but we still do not really know what it will end up looking like.

We are also yet to understand the deep implications of the pandemic on the functioning and sustainability of universities and academic communities around the world. The UK is perhaps in a particularly strange and vulnerable position due to the marketisation of its higher education sector, the associated waves of strikes over the last two years, the economic dependence on international student fees (mostly from China) and the global mobility of its top talent.

There will be temptations to go back to ‘normal’ or as close as possible to ‘business as usual’ (perhaps with an intervening sector-wide bailout). I would argue that, in many fronts, this should be resisted. The current shock to the way things were done should make us reflect upon what does not work in academia, what scrambling through the challenges of COVID-19 is teaching us, and what we want for the post COVID-19 academia. I have a few thoughts.

First, COVID-19 and the associated collective disorientation, fear and confusion in its immediate aftermath have created massive tensions in the governance of higher education institutions, with many of them displaying levels of dysfunctionality that will only be fully visible in the medium to long term. These challenges in governance and the vacuum or excesses (and sometimes, both) of decision-making and communications (with staff and students alike) have only been partially mitigated by the commitment and the collegiality of most, starting with those on the most precarious contracts, which are at the frontline of interactions with students. Only this attitude will carry us through this, for the unavoidable truth is that the worse is yet to come and it will be with us for quite some time. The sense of community that (the lucky ones, amongst which I am blessed to be) have been experiencing shows us something about the real meaning of academia. We must build on it.

However, making this commitment sustainable will require a very significant rethinking of the system of values and rewards in academia and, importantly, a levelling up of working conditions and an end to casualisation. ‘Citizenship’ is now the gold standard and the only way of keeping Departments/Schools afloat and, with them, the heavier University structures. This is a time where it may be all too easy for some to hide under the efforts of most. More than ever, keeping tabs with everyone’s contribution, demanding that senior colleagues pull our weight, and recompensing those that go above and beyond will be crucial. Only resilient institutions can get to the other end of this (and the next, and the following) crisis and the institution can only be as resilient as the worse-treated, paid and rewarded of its members.

Second, this crisis has shown how most of our lives are unbalanced from a personal/work life perspective and the fragility of the support structures that allow us to overwork, oftentimes to the point of neglecting our closest and dearest, as well as ourselves. The unavoidable ‘reduction in academic productivity’ that has come with the pandemic — except for some, specially in the fields of knowledge of more direct relevance, of course — should make us reflect on whether we are all doing too much, and also perhaps too little. We should take stock of what is it we think is at the core of our function as academics, as members of a scholar community. We should also take stock of all the things we would ordinarily be doing but cannot do anymore due to time constraints, or other reasons. Perhaps the current prioritisation can tell us how to refocus our efforts and how to reshape our jobs — and perhaps our personal lives — so we have a better balance.

Third, the crisis has grounded (almost) everyone. Yet, academic activity has not stopped and we are all getting used to a volume of online activities we would never have dreamt of. From the perspective of the need for academia to get serious about climate change and transitioning to a truly environmentally sustainable model, this can be one of the silver linings. I know it is unrealistic to expect everyone to join me in my pledge not to fly for work, and I understand that the reasons why that would not be feasible or fair remain. However, I think that now that we have all been forced into the exercise of 'trying it out’, we should collectively adopt a position of restarting as few activities requiring travel (and in particular flights) as possible. To a certain degree, this can also apply to distance learning, as we will very soon have accumulated significant experience in online teaching, which should make us rethink the traditional structure of campus-based degrees (not to abandon them, but to consider a better mix of presential and online activities, as well as broadening our horizons to part-time and distance-learning as potentially more inclusive options).

Finally, but this is less new, the crisis has once again brought into sharp relief the inadequacy of the methods of academic research publication and dissemination. When push comes to shove, peer review procedures can be dispensed with or minimised, publication is carried out in open access and dissemination is maximised as a true attempt at discharging the social responsibility of those with the relevant knowledge, a platform and available resources. It has been heartening to see so many specialists team up and work on the modelling and analysis required to inform public health policies, as well as robust scrutiny of political (in)decisions and other valuable interventions. There is plenty that resonates with what the academic mobilisation around Brexit already showed. This really seems to me to be the day of reckoning for the current model. May the movement to make academic textbooks and then parts of the catalogue backlist freely available online by some publishers serve as evidence that knowledge can no longer be kept behind the crumbling paywalls.

There surely is more to reflect upon and many more changes that are desirable for a post COVID-19 turn of the academy for the better but I would be satisfied to see an increase of the sector’s resilience by securing all its members and aligning the systems of incentives and rewards to what makes us collectively strong and puts us in a position to discharge our social mission sustainably; a rebalance of the personal and the professional in a sector where jobs tend to also be people’s passions (at least for the lucky ones, such as myself); a transition to a net zero emissions academia by 2025 at the latest; and a move to open access, agile and quality-assured publication and active and engaging dissemination of academic research.